Showing posts with label poetry. Show all posts
Showing posts with label poetry. Show all posts

Tuesday, January 6, 2015

Brown Girl Dreaming, Jacqueline Woodson

Title:  Brown Girl Dreaming
Author:  Jacqueline Woodson
Publisher:  Nancy Paulsen Books
Year: 2014
Pages: 336
Genre:  Memoir, Told in Verse
Themes:  Black History, Family, Racism, Civil Rights
Age Range:  5th Grade and Above

Summary:  from Goodreads
Raised in South Carolina and New York, Woodson always felt halfway home in each place. In vivid poems, she shares what it was like to grow up as an African American in the 1960s and 1970s, living with the remnants of Jim Crow and her growing awareness of the Civil Rights movement. 

Review:
I have loved all of Woodson's books, and this one is no exception.  Her prose always read more like poetry to me, so I was glad to see this book is told in verse.  Growing up in both the Jim Crow south and the Civil Rights era north, Woodson was in a unique position to witness racism and discrimination in both its over and covert incarnations.

While her growing awareness of the Civil Rights movement and its affect on her daily life is central to the novel, at its heart this book is about a young girl with a complicated family, trying to figure out where she fits in the world.  Being of two worlds often made her feel like she never really belonged to either, being too country for the urban northerners and too city for her rural family.  Woodson points out the many ways she felt like the "other", and the subtle and not-so-subtle signifiers of her "otherness"-her speech patterns, her family configuration, her desire to write stories, despite not always being the best student in school.  Woodson speaks lovingly of her grandparents, who symbolize stability and permanence.  Her feelings about her mother and father are just as loving, but less grounded.  Her father is not a part of her life, her mother leaves to find work in the city, eventually pulling her and her siblings away from their grandparents' home.  And, of course, with aging grandparents come the sad reality of declining health and death, which deal a blow to the fragile ground upon which Woodson builds her sense of self.

I think that only the most mature, sophisticated fifth graders would be ready for this book, not because there is anything objectionable in it, but because I think the narrative structure and the sometimes oblique references to the events that shaped the Civil Rights movement would be lost on someone without sufficient experience to understand.  But this book, which won the National Book Award for Young Adult Fiction for 2014, is certainly accessible and appropriate for use in middle or high school, and is gorgeous and moving enough to speak to adult readers as well.



Friday, February 7, 2014

Inside Out and Back Again, by Thanhha Lai

Title:  Inside Out and Back Again
Author:  Thanhha Lai
Publisher:  Harper Collins
Year:  2011
Pages:  272
Genre:  Poetry
Themes:  War, Family, Immigration
Age Range:  3rd-6th Grade

Summary:  from Goodreads
For all the ten years of her life, Hà has only known Saigon: the thrills of its markets, the joy of its traditions, the warmth of her friends close by . . . and the beauty of her very own papaya tree.
But now the Vietnam War has reached her home. Hà and her family are forced to flee as Saigon falls, and they board a ship headed toward hope. In America, Hà discovers the foreign world of Alabama: the coldness of its strangers, the dullness of its food, the strange shape of its landscape . . . and the strength of her very own family.
Review:
The story of Ha and her family is told through a series of free verse poems.  The story moves from Saigon at the end of the Vietnam war, to Guam, to Alabama, where Ha and her family are sponsored by an American man and his reluctant, cold wife.  Lai does a beautiful job evoking what life in Saigon was like right after the Americans left, creating a sense of foreboding an uncertainty that is unsettling.  Things don't really improve when Ha and her family finally board the ship for Guam...it is overcrowded, with no privacy and very little food.  When they finally reach the safety of the American naval base, their relief is quickly replaced by more uncertainty about their future.  Only families that are sponsored by an American are allowed to relocate in the US, and Ha's family has to wait until someone comes forward.

Ha's family reacts in different ways to their leaving Vietnam.  One brother is angry and hostile towards the move, one is looking forward to going to living in Bruce Lee's homeland.  One takes a very Zen approach, not really appearing to care.  Ha's biggest worry, one shared with her mother, is that their father, who has been missing in action for three years, will never be able to find them if he tries to come home.  But Lai makes it pretty obvious that the family really had no choice-if they wanted to survive, and not just survive but have a chance to thrive, they had to leave Vietnam.

Lai also does not shy away from showing us just how ugly the American attitude was towards Vietnamese refugees was in the weeks and months following America's exit from Southeast Asia.  People in the small town where Ha and her family land were indifferent and best, and downright mean at worst.  Ha's frustration over feeling dumb in American schools is palpable, and for good reason.  Her inability to speak English gets in the way of even the most basic human transactions, and as a result people can take advantage of her and her family.  Luckily one of her brother's speaks English, and the family is able to communicate their basic needs to their sponsor, but that doesn't help Ha make friends, or her mother find work.  Even when people think they are being kind, Ha and her family have such a different perspective on life that they don't always take the gestures in the way people intend.  Fortunately for Ha, their sponsor introduces them to a former teacher who tutors Ha in English, despite the fact that her son was killed in Vietnam.  This book provides a great opportunity to teach poetry as a narrative form, and there are lots of chances for cross-curricular connections in social studies.

Monday, February 25, 2013

October Mourning, by Leslea Newman

Title:  October Mourning
Author:  Leslea Newman
Publisher:  Candlewick
Year:  2012
Pages:  128
Genre:  Poetry
Themes:  Social Justice
Age Range:  7th Grade and Up

Summary:  from Goodreads
On the night of October 6, 1998, a gay twenty-one-year-old college student named Matthew Shepard was lured from a Wyoming bar by two young men, savagely beaten, tied to a remote fence, and left to die. Gay Awareness Week was beginning at the University of Wyoming, and the keynote speaker was Lesléa Newman, discussing her book Heather Has Two Mommies. Shaken, the author addressed the large audience that gathered, but she remained haunted by Matthew’s murder. October Mourning, a novel in verse, is her deeply felt response to the events of that tragic day. Using her poetic imagination, the author creates fictitious monologues from various points of view, including the fence Matthew was tied to, the stars that watched over him, the deer that kept him company, and Matthew himself. More than a decade later, this stunning cycle of sixty-eight poems serves as an illumination for readers too young to remember, and as a powerful, enduring tribute to Matthew Shepard’s life.

Review:
This year, the elementary literacy coordinator for my school district (and good friend!) included the list of Stonewall Awards winners in her yearly round-up from the American Library Association.  This fact in and of itself-that a district-wide newsletter about award winning books for children and young adults should include the winner in the LGBT category-highlights exactly why Matthew Shepard deserves to be remembered.  It's been 15 years since he was beaten and tied to a fence, all for the fact of being gay, and in that time our country has changed enormously in regards to how gays and lesbians are perceived and portrayed in our society.  Matthew Shepard wasn't an activist, he didn't set out to change the culture, but what happened to him in a small city in Wyoming touched the hearts and minds of the nation.

Newman's poems are haunting, brutal, lyrical, painful, and hopeful in turns.  At varying times during the cycle she becomes the fence, the police, the parents, the killers, and the nation.  I was frequently brought to tears by the imagery she creates, based on the actual accounts of people familiar with the crime and with Matthew himself.  Newman, a pioneer in writing about gay themes for children, has given us in October Mourning a set of poems that can help to educate a new generation of youth into the circumstances of Shepard's life and death, and the profound impact that it had on the rest of us.  The world has changed so fast, and children and youth growing up today may have no idea how we got here...Newman's poems reflect a part of our shared history-albeit a painful one-that should never be forgotten.