When Phoebe Yeh Makes a Recommendation, I Typically Stop Everything To Read (She Hasn't Served Me Wrong Yet & I Am Thankful)

It was wonderful having Phoebe Yeh in our audience at NCTE, especially since I read Dear Manny a few weeks ago - the 3rd book from Nic Stone in her trilogy. In Boston, my students and I were presenting on Patricia Park's influence of our work through her YA novel, Imposter Syndrome. Later that night, Phoebe wanted to be sure I had a copy of Mahogany L. Brown's A Bird In the Sky Means We Can Still Breathe, which comes out in March, 2025. I told her I did have a copy, and I would prioritize it as soon as I got home. Coupled with this is Yolanda Sealey Ruiz's voice message, "Crandall...we need to do something together on Mahogany Brown's new book." The message came, actually, as I was sitting on my couch reading it. We've already pitched our idea - we will now wait. 

When Jason Reynold's penned Ain't Burned All the Bright I was quick to distribute 50 copies to 50 friends for my birthday. It was a Covid 50th and I threw a birthday party with my birthday brother in Indiana, Paul Hankins (via ZOOM, of course).  A Bird In the Sky Means We Can Still Breathe is crafted in a similar vein, but with more stage presence, theatrics, and voice of character. Each page feels like it can be performed and I love the chorus quality of the book (reminded me of For Colored Girls Who've Considered Suicide. The words are meant to be read out loud.

What was most punching about the story, however, are the voices of children abandoned, orphaned, jailed, and fostered during the Covid-19 years, and the stories they had to tell as the nation worked through an international flu that some wanted to deny and others used to destroy. Those living in poverty took the biggest hit and the numbers don't lie. Loss was everywhere and tremendous.

As I was reading and thinking about where Browne's book could land historically, I thought of Hesse's Out of the Dust and Anderson's Fever 1793. Of course, the covid pandemic is much more recent and, because it was not fun, something we all can easily dust from our immediate memory. I had to stop and think, in fact, how long we were at home and how we adapted. Because of the National Writing Project network, I've been used to a ZOOM life much longer than most. I knew who to connect with and how. What I forgot, however, is the in-home survival strategies, as Chitunga returned from graduate school (denied his graduation) and Edem was living home, too, after everything in Iowa shut him down. We survived, but it wasn't easy (that's when Karal became accustomed to being walked three times a day because each of us had to get out of the house and all of us were frustrated. On weekends, I'd walk Karal 8 miles - to the beach and back - simply because I could and I needed to be with fresh air.

What resonated with me most in Browne's poetic/versed/theatrical storytelling was how she brought representation to kids that were not on the radar of also living through the pandemic...kids who lost family members, lived impoverished lives, had incarcerated parents, and were the last to receive help. They, too, had to find a way towards hope and the title of her book says it all. 

I have all of Mahogany L. Browne's verse novels on my shelf and definitely will be keeping this one and sharing with students in YA Literature (and I have a particular teacher in New Haven in mind who would appreciate a class set...her kids are change makers, too).

And it's a Friday. I appreciate it, but I'm tired of always thanking God for another Friday. I think we all need a month of Fridays or even a year. But I will count my blessings that another is upon me and carry on as I always do. And now there are 5 other post-NCTE books to be read...they are lined up beside me like patient warriors. I'll get to each as I can.