George

George

by Alex Gino



Some people are born into a body they don't identify with. George is a girl who is born in a boy's body. Throughout the book she refers to herself as "she", identifies as a girl, but is looked upon as a boy since she was born with the boy body parts.

When people look at George, they see a boy. But George knows she’s a girl.

George thinks she’ll have to keep this a secret forever. 

Cliched single mom and macho older brother fade into the background, but, George's best friend Kelly stays tight through and through. Kelly is fine with George identifying as a girl. When auditions for class presentation of Charlott'e Web is announced, George immediately wants to play Charlotte, the female spider, and not Wilbur, the male pig.

The book is a quick read, but the message will linger long after the last page is read and the book is put away.

Theater as a backdrop for this story is fitting as where else can George pretend to be who she really is.

When George's brother and mother finally realize and accept it, there is not much brouhaha over George's gender identity. George is who she is. Except, she wants to go by Melissa, that is her name, that is what she wants to be called.

The ending is perfect, where Kelly lets George/Melissa try on her girly clothes and they both go out into the world (to the Zoo with Kelly's uncle, to be precise) and for the first time George is comfortable with being true to herself.

The resident 11-year old read it casually one weekend and had a few questions to ask about this book, which is a positive sign for me.


[image source: http://www.alexgino.com/george/]

Tangerine

Tangerine
by Edward Bloor


Tangerine is an uplifting multi-threaded story, featuring a young protagonist who has a strong sense of self-worth, that combines rite-of-passage with sibling rivalry, race issues, environmental concerns, football mania, minority communities and more, told brilliantly, without stodgy pontificating or sappy sentimentality.

Seventh grader Paul Fisher moves to Tangerine County, Florida, with his family to start a new school year at Lake Windsor Middle School (LWMS), leaving Houston and his friends behind without too much drama. Overshadowed by his older brother Erik, who is the center of the Erik Fisher Football Dream that his parents have intricately woven and diligently pursued thanks to Erik's phenomenal placekicking, Paul is left to his own devices most of the time, ignored, and underappreciated despite his superb goal-tending abilities for his school soccer team.

Paul wears thick glasses to help him see better. His brother originated this story of Paul staring at the solar eclipse for too long and thus losing his visual acuity. Paul is not sure that story is true, but, he dare not challenge his brother as Erik is quite the mean-spirited bully who hides it well around his parents. His parents don't seem too forthcoming to clarify this vision issue either.

Between the stench of the muck fires that would never go out, and the swarm of mosquitoes that thrive in the swamp created when misguided folks tried to douse the muck fire with gallons of water, life in Tangerine County is not all pleasant. Add to it the very real danger of being hit by lightning, as well as drowning in a sinkhole while sitting in the classroom, life can be positively dangerous.

Indeed, when during football practice, one of the kids of the high school football team is struck by lightning and dies, folks just take it in their stride and don't even suspend practice the next day, carrying on as if nothing can be more important than NFL dreams.

And yes, the sinkhole gobbles up quite a few of the portable classrooms of LWMS, with the kids just barely escaping death. If all this seems highly improbable, think again.

Paul Fisher is furious that his mom demanded a tour of his new school explicitly declaring that he is "legally blind", a tour that was not offered willingly by the Principal at the outset, but was reluctantly given owing to Paul's limitation. She goes so far as to sign him up for IEP as if to emphasize the "visually handicapped" idea, which as it turns out, disqualifies him to play in LWMS's soccer team, despite being the best goalie that a team can hope for.

"I followed slowly, angry at Mom for calling attention to my eyesight. She wanted a tour of the place because she's nosy and wants to see everything for herself. It wasn't because I can't see, because I can. I can see just fine."

Though Paul is visually impaired, he has never considered it a disability. He has sharp insight and perception when it comes to people around him, especially his parents who always seem focused on the wrong things while ignoring the important things staring at them. His thick glasses has never stopped him from being a first-rate goalie for his school team so far. Nor has it stopped him from being deeply observant and profoundly astute for a kid his age.

"But I can see. I can see everything. I can see things that Mom and Dad can't. Or won't."

Or won't. That is the key.

The plot thread of the Tangerine Middle School (TMS) kids and their community where, as Paul puts it, "the minorities are the majority," is superbly developed. As a result of the sinkhole incident, Paul gets an opportunity to change schools, and he voluntarily opts to go to TMS, known as the middle school for troubled youth, while LWMS is for the so-called elite.

Paul makes himself fit in at TMS and works hard to get on the soccer team, even if not as a starter. The citrus farming with its threat of freeze, the bare minimum subsistence, the hardworking Cruz family, the all-too-painful story of Antoine Thomas and his sister, Shandra... There is so much going on in this book that one cannot just put it down and walk away not knowing how it all works out...

Rather than reveal all the lovely details, I think I'll stop here, allowing myself a few more words to gush about this book. While some situations may seem a bit contrived for the dramatic effect, the book is very realistic in terms of relationships, rivalries, priorities, lifestyles -- conditions of life -- in what appears to be an idyllic place that was once the Tangerine capital of the world. Paul is memorable and I can't help but hope that kids in his situation have that level of understanding and maturity to handle what life throws at them. Paul reaches for the light when he could have abandoned levelheadedness and sought the dark. He looks for the positives, not faults, he never complains and he knows what's right even if his own family doesn't acknowledge it.

[image source: EdwardBloor.net]

The Worst ... Ever... MG Books by Dave Barry

The Worst Class Trip Ever (#1)
The Worst Night Ever (#2)
by Dave Barry
illustrated by Jon Cannell
published by Disney-Hyperion


On and off, famous authors of adult fiction have written children's books. Crows of Pear Blossom  by Aldous Huxley is a short sweet story made into a lovely picture book illustrated by Sophie Blackall. There's Chitty Chitty Bang Bang by Ian Fleming, Haroun and the Sea of Stories and Luka and the Fire of Life by Salman Rushdie, Up in the Tree by Margaret Atwood, Old Possum's Book of Practical Cats by T.S. Eliot...

Terry Pratchett's Tiffany Aching series is brilliant: no patronizing, no condescension, no preaching, no lecture, and no softened 2D flat characters either. But then again, just because the protagonist is a 9 year old when the series starts out, doesn't mean it is necessarily for nine year old readers.

However, of late, there seems to be an explosion of middle grade fiction by best-selling authors of the adult crime/mystery genre - like, the I Funny Series by James Patterson  and Theodore Boone series by John Grisham -- and they seem to receive mixed reviews overall.

Dave Barry's columns were quite an inspiration in my younger days -- besides being side-splittingly funny at times, they brought a unique perspective to everyday things. So, when I stumbled upon Barry's middle grade fiction, I had to bring them home and see if they still held the same magic.

Wyatt Palmer, an eighth grader at Culver Middle School in Miami, is a likable protagonist. His heart is in the right place and he strives to steer clear of trouble. But, as is the case with such heroes, trouble finds them, spurring them into action, leading to a series of (un)fortunate events that end amicably enough but leave a wreck in their wake.

The Worst Class Trip Ever has this ridiculously exaggerated plot where Wyatt's best friend Matt Diaz is kidnapped, possibly by terrorists, while on their class trip to Washington D.C. Wyatt and Suzana, the girl he is crazy about, have to rescue Matt by handing over a deadly device to the terrorists. As over-the-top as it sounds, it is not meant to be taken seriously thanks to the easy-going comic tone and insane fast-paced happenings that lead to Wyatt breaking the collar bone of the President of the United States, and yet managing to come out smelling of roses in the end.

The Worst Night Ever happens a short while after the ill-fated class trip that inadvertently made Wyatt a hero. He is now  a freshman at Coral Cove High School, with a despotic principal and a pair of over-sized bullies by the name of Bevin Brothers. The trouble again starts with Matt who brings his ferret to school even though it is strictly against the rules. Of course, without rule-breakers and bumbling incompetents, there wouldn't be much of a story to tell. Anyway, Bevin brothers appropriate Matt's ferret and take it to their home. Wyatt hatches a plan to steal it back from them and incidentally uncovers a secret  involving the Bevin family in illegal exotic-pet trade.

Written in Wyatt's voice, readers get to see his point of view and get to know his friends as he sees them; and at times, Wyatt speaks directly to the reader which takes us readers inside the story as we commiserate with his predicament.

The 11 year old seemed to enjoy the book, especially because it was rather over the top and, at the same time, quite entertaining and funny.

[image source: davebarry.com]

Save Me A Seat

Save Me A Seat 

by Sarah Weeks & Gita Varadarajan


Joe Sylvester and Ravi Suryanarayanan. Two kids starting fifth grade at Albert Einstein Elementary. Two kids from completely different backgrounds, cultures, corners of the world. Two kids who just want to fit in. Two kids who are unlikely to become friends.

Written alternately from Joe's and Ravi's perspectives, by two authors, the book unfolds the first week of school where Ravi is a brand new kid, not just to this school, but to America. His family has just moved to New Jersey from Bangalore, India. His paternal grandparents came along as well. His mom is a homemaker while Ravi's dad works full time.

While Joe has been in this school since KG, he has always felt an outsider thanks to his APD (Auditory Processing Disorder) which makes every single noise in his environment equally stimulating and distracting and so is unable to focus as needed while tuning out the unwanted sounds. His mom takes any work she can to supplement the family's income, while his dad is on the road a lot with his trucking job.

Dillon Samreen is a typical spoilt, rich ABCD - American-Born Confused Desi* - another name for U.S.-born kids of Indian immigrants, who craves attention and seems quite popular, thanks to his clothing and antics. [*Desi = Indian]

It's a regular school story, centered around the lunch time in cafeteria. Each section of the book is named the day of the week staring from Monday and ending in Friday. And that's not all, each day of the week is further qualified by the cafeteria lunch served in Albert Einstein Elementary. "Monday: Chicken Fingers." "Tuesday: Hamburgers." and so on. And, sure enough, Dillon is the villain-of-sorts with his bullying and insensitivity and selfishness.

Rather than elaborating on every moment of each day of school life through the week, the book focuses on hand-picked incidents that strike an emotional cord, tailored specifically to elicit poignant responses in readers, both young and older. The clever device of picking up the same incident from Joe's perspective where Ravi left off the narration previously (and vice versa) is done seamlessly and brilliantly. So that, without exchanging much dialog with each other, somehow Ravi and Joe are easily connected, destined to end up together as friends.

Bridging the cultural diversity, the book offers fairly authentic perspectives into Ravi's and Joe's lives without espousing a favored position. Touching upon subtle disability (ADP), we see a bright kid, Joe, from a working-class family, struggling to make friends and share what he can offer. Being from a very different culture, we see Ravi's food and demeanor as authentic to his upbringing so far, with a sense of eagerness to please and to excel even while limited by a hard-to-follow accent.

With two authors bringing their own unique perspectives to the characters, the book is innovative and brilliant. Veteran Sarah Weeks tugs at our heartstrings with effortless ease, while Gita Varadarajan brings rich sensory information about Indian culture through credible characterization of Ravi's family and their interactions.

Being an American of south Indian origin, there were quite a few aspects that resonated with me and, of course, quite a few that grated my nerves. Which is not a bad thing for a book like this, for an adult reader like myself.

One thing that irked me was that Ravi's grandmother says, "Be proud of who you are and remember where you come from. If you are not careful, you'll turn into one of them. Your grandfather didn't slave in the tea plantations so that his only grandson would become some rude, overweight, beef-eating cowboy."

While I do not advocate ever forgetting one's roots wherever that may be, the words, "don't turn into one of them" rather rubbed me the wrong way. As if Americans are all uncouth and unworthy somehow, at least according to grandma, by being overweight cowboys. I perfectly understand the spirit in which it is written, but, even the resident eleven year old was irked by it, being an American with south Indian heritage.

On the other hand, Joe's dad says, "Immigrants. They're visitors in this country; who do they think they are, pushing us around?" when referring to Dillon, an American kid of Indian origin. But, Joe points out that Dillon was born in America and that Dillon's dad is a reputable doctor.

There's nothing wrong with blending in and absorbing the host culture without losing one's own beliefs and identity, picking the best of both worlds. At the same time, are guests wrong to expect the host culture to be open-minded in welcoming them? And then again, is it truly a host-guest situation or a host-parasite relationship that creates this fear and mistrust? Rather than always trying to find fault and be derisive about cultural practices and affiliations different from one's own, is it possible for us to accept and appreciate aspects of various cultures without trying to prove why one is somehow inherently better than the other?

Also, towards the end when grandpa helps Ravi gather a few leeches for his Personal Reflection project, I cringed initially thinking why would grandpa equate Indians to leeches - blood-sucking parasites that drain the hosts and move on?  But then, grandpa states, "These leeches are a reminder of who we are, and where we've come from, Ravi, and of all the hardships we've endured to get here."

Rising from a humble tea plantation guard who protected the workers from these nasty leeches, grandpa is proud that his son worked hard to gain recognition for his intellectual abilities and was sent to U.S to contribute his knowledge and expertise for the better world, so that his grandson can live the American Dream, such as it may be. But, their fairly upper middle-class background was not convincing enough to justify this speech about leeches. However, when I realized that it is drawn from author's own personal experience, it came together quite all right.

Ravi's family moved from Bangalore in South India, and Ravi calls his parents 'Amma' and 'Appa' which are south Indian (particularly, Tamil) terms for 'mom' and 'dad'; however, he also calls his grand-parents 'Perimma' and 'Perippa' which is rather unconventional as those terms also refer to Aunt and Uncle - either mom's older sister and her husband, or dad's older brother and his wife. Not that it affects the story, as families can choose to call grandparents in whatever traditional fashion they adopt, but as a Tamil-speaking reader, it was rather an interesting point for me.

I hope this book is chosen as a must-read for fifth graders in school. It is a fairly quick read. Plenty to discuss. The resident 11 year old, who is exposed to south Indian culture, found it an entertaining read. Even if it was written with Ronaldo from Brasil or Ridwaan from Somalia, instead of Ravi from India, the story would have rung true, and that's the diversity in books that children need to be exposed to. Back of the book has Joe's glossary and Ravi's glossary, plus recipes of Joe's and Ravi's favorite foods.

Having finished this book one weekend evening, after tucking kids in bed, I knew I wanted both the kids to read it. So, I took charge and read this book out loud to them. Slowly, in installments, till my throat went hoarse, I read it aloud to the captive duo every chance I got.

Both kids immediately took to Joe, wondering why Joe does not seek an adult intervention when Dillon screams in Joe's ear on purpose. That is cruel and unacceptable. Their argument: If Joe is not confrontational, it is fine, but, he should not condone that behavior by keeping quiet about it and trying to find a subtler way to get back. How will Dillon learn that what he does will not be tolerated if he does not get any consequence for such an unacceptable act of torment? How can it be tattling when asking an adult for help after being unable to deal with such behavior? Joe tried the appropriate method of using his words and making it clear he doesn't like it, but if Dillon still continues his bad behavior, then why can't Joe seek help from adults? Surely that's not tattling, is it? Why keep it from your parents and teachers and thereby protect Dillon?

And both kids found Ravi to be quite sweet and easy to befriend if he was in their classroom. Being familiar with some of the foods Ravi brings to school, the kids were furious when Dillon called Ravi  "Curryhead" and told him that his food stank and that he stank. The 8 year old was horrified that Dillon would get away with such an insensitive and inappropriate comment. Or that Dillon's cronies would laugh when hearing such hurtful words.

Clearly, the authors knew what they were doing! I wish I could gather all the neighborhood kids and read this book out loud to them. Between Chloe in India, It Ain't So Awful Falafel, and Save Me a Seat, I think there's plenty for kids to think about beyond their own small world.... along with books like Percy Jackson and Divergent and Books of Ember, of course.

[image source: Scholastic]

It Ain't So Awful, Falafel

It Ain't So Awful, Falafel

by Firoozeh Dumas

Publisher: Clarion Books (May 3, 2016)

I have been trying to stick this book under the noses of whoever will tolerate such liberties, urging them to read it, just so they can derive the immense satisfaction that I did from a book so superbly written that it makes me hope that world peace is easily achievable if only all books were like this.

Of course, I do that a lot with every well-written book, be it Middle Grade, YA, or Adult, fiction or non-fiction, that has come my way.

Yes, this is a Middle Grade fiction, not a heavy literary tome by a Pulitzer winner.

I first got introduced to Firoozeh Dumas's writing through her memoir-of-sorts, Funny in Farsi. Being an Iranian American who lived through the Iran Hostage Crisis as a youngster, Firoozeh is both wise and pragmatic, always ready to state what she feels is right with just the right touch of humor that takes away the edge and makes you ponder on the realities of the situation. Her writing is honest and brilliant -- she spins poignant moments into funny yarns that are moving, heart-warming, vivid, and masterly, all at the same time.

Zomorod Yousoufzadeh is looking forward to starting middle school right after this summer break. Although born in Iran, she has been in the US for a few years now because her father's job brought them to America and has kept them here. The story starts with her family moving from Compton, CA to Newport Beach, CA.

As we enter the story, Zomorod starts calling herself Cindy, after the littlest Brady Bunch kid that everyone loves. Why?

“It’s not like I’m trying to pretend that I’m not Iranian. I just want people to ask questions about me when we meet, not about where I’m from.”

Obviously, "Zomorod" is not an easy name to pronounce, and is way too weird-sounding, plus she simply wants to fit in and belong here. "Hi, I'm Cindy" shifts the focus from her nationality to herself as an individual, compared to "Hi, I'm Zomorod."

Cindy's dad, an engineer, was sent to the US to collaborate on building oil refineries. He has studied in the US before and speaks English just fine (but for the accent) and is looking forward to doing the best he can in both his professional and personal life, and loves to speak eloquently about Iran and oil refineries with whoever is (un)lucky enough to start a conversation with him. 

Her mother on the other hand speaks barely any English (except hello and thank you) and feels isolated as a result, but still refuses to learn English and prefers having Zomorod as her translator. What's Cindy to do? Except to tell us readers that she loves her parents very much but that she'd rather keep them hidden till she feels that they are no longer embarrassing to her. Typical tween!

The book hinges on Cindy/Zomorod. She  carries the book on her young shoulders with panache. She relies on her inherent sense of humor to tackle life's weird encounters when nothing else would work. With a steadfast fellow bookworm, Carolyn, for a friend, Cindy manages to balance her parents' expectations with her own need to belong, while navigating the student life at Lincoln Junior High, and discovering Girl Scouts, Halloween, and Taco Nights at Carolyn's.

Pivoting around the Iran Hostage Crisis, Firoozeh shows us the dark side of our own weaknesses and fears that prevents us from standing up for what we know is right -- how our perception gets easily clouded by collective hysteria. With her sharp insight into human nature and her firm belief that people around the world are not that much different from each other, Firoozeh, through Zomorod's dad, assures us that, "...people like that are not truly horrible; they just need a geography class, a passport, and a few foreign friends."

The little nuggets about hospitality culture and the universal language of food can easily be applied to Indians just as well as it applies to the Iranians in this story. In fact, some of the characters in the book could just as well be from India, they'd slide right into their roles just as easily. Which attests to the fact that human beings everywhere are not all that different from each other once we take away the language and the food and the geographical borders -- humans seek the same thing: a sense of community, safety, security, and to live their lives as best as they can.

This splendid story mingles family, politics, and immigrant experience, with friendship, self-identity, and coming-of-age angst while addressing paranoia, xenophobia, and intolerance with wry wit and gentle humor.

I can easily see this book becoming required reading for all fifth graders so they can peek into the cultural nuances from an immigrant child's perspective, even if the story is set in the 1970s and 80s. When the resident 11 year old avid reader started chortling at every other page, saying, "Mama, listen to this:..." and proceeded to read passages from the book back to me, I knew I could ask for nothing more from a book.

Speaking from personal experience, I see Zomorod's self-identity as dual, such is the nature of immigrant children -- they manage to extract the best of both worlds and come out a better version of themselves in the end, holding on to what centers them from their own heritage while being open to new experiences and putting out new roots that will anchor them in their current domicile.

[image source: HMH Books]