A Reflection on YA Lit

The end of the semester is upon us once again and, as classes wrap up and final papers are turned in, I find myself wondering how it is possible for semesters to go by so quickly. Re-reading my original blog post, back in the days when I had no idea what I was doing, I thought it appropriate that I should spend a brief moment reflecting on the last four months. I was uncertain of my YA lit class for the first couple of weeks. I am not an education major and some aspects of the class dealt with issues that are relevant to those pursuing a career in teaching English to teens. However, I quickly came to enjoy the class and I would save my YA reading for my "fun" homework, the homework I would do on Thursday evenings when I couldn't bring myself to do any other work. Furthermore, I have learned a lot from this class and I will share some of that with you.

First of all, my knowledge of YA literature has increased exponentially. Before I had no idea what YA lit encompassed. Now, I feel that I have a much better grasp on the genre, even as I recognize the boundaries are a little blurry. My appreciation for YA lit has also grown. I have been fortunate enough to read some truly great novels, novels that deal with difficult topics. YA lit doesn't avoid the dark side of growing up or the hard situations that teens often deal with. It is not mere over-simplified sugar-coating of important issues. Rather, many authors have taken great risks, and continue to do so, pushing the boundaries of our thought. For this, I am grateful.

Secondly, I have gained a deep appreciation for all those on the front of the YA lit "movement." There are a lot of great, hard-working authors, librarians, critics, and teachers out there who deserve our praise and gratitude for the flourishing of YA lit and the increased interest it has rightfully been given. The enthusiasm with which many teachers have embraced YA literature and the risks some have taken in bringing innovative ideas to the classroom is truly remarkable. The effects that such a shift could have on the willingness of students to read are potentially great. The growth of YA lit is exciting and it would not have been possible without all those who devoted themselves to raising awareness as to its merits.

Lastly, there are going to be some very good English teachers teaching the next generation. The enthusiasm that my teacher-to-be classmates displayed and their interest in being the best teachers possible is amazing. I was blessed with some very good teachers in my day and sometimes a good teacher makes all the difference. Seeing so much willingness to teach and help students among my classmates makes me smile because I know that there will be many teens who benefit from their commitment. Even though I am not an education major, they taught me a lot about being invested and enthusiastic about whatever it is I end up doing.

I know that I will keep reading YA lit along with all the other reading I do. The stories are engaging and explore themes that remain revelevant to my own life. Besides, I take pleasure from reading YA and see no reason to stop doing something that I love.

Exciting News

Maizy and Sundance (Sundance is the one that looks like he could eat her)

Hey friends! My family recently welcomed into the home a new puppy and so I thought I would share her with you. At first, Sundance did not know what to think of her and so employed the aloof tactic, basically ignoring her and refusing to acknowledge her existence. However, he seems to have resigned himself to the fact that she is not leaving and has decided to make the best out of the situation. So now the two are friends. We decided to name her Maizy, and by "we" I mean my dad. For about one day we called her Nala. However, my dad apparently can't remember Nala and kept calling her Nola. He complained it was too hard to say and made an administrative decision to change it to Maizy. I ask myself, a.) has he never seen Lion King, and b.) how is Maizy any easier to remember? Well, for those of you who like the movie Uncle Buck you may remember that Maizy was the name of the little girl. I prefer to associate it with the fact that she looks like the color of a maize (or corn) field. This naming debacle, I am forced to think, is what happens when I am not at home to supervise things. I left Sunday evening to drive back to school and her name was Nala. I receive an e-mail Monday night saying the name has been changed due to extenuating circumstances. However, I am forced to remember that I named Sundance and no one liked it at first and now it is generally recognized as the best and most appropriate name ever. So, I can only hope that Maizy turns out to be an equally good choice.

Alcoholism, Disillusionment, and Trying to Survive

I just finished reading A Door Near Here by Heather Quarles. The novel won the Delacorte Press Prize, a prize given to the best first novel for young adults by an author. In fact, the book was Quarles's Master's thesis for graduate school--a pretty great read for a Master's thesis.

I fondly remember being a teen and enthusiastically anticipating every weekend my parents left my brother and me alone at home. It was glorious. An entire weekend to do whatever we wanted, as loud and as late as we wanted, with no one to demand quiet. We loved every minute of it. While this set up is fairly great for two days, being left alone for months is not. This is exactly what the Donovan children face when their mother loses her job and retreats to her bedroom, only to emerge to go to the store for more alcohol. All of the sudden, 15-year-old Katherine is running a household and, along with 14-year-old Douglas and 13-year-old Tracy, trying to keep life normal for their 8-year-old sister Alisa. However, as food runs out, laundry piles up, and bills go unpaid, things seem to be slipping out of Katherine's control. On top of everything else, Alisa, a big fan of C.S. Lewis, begins to obsess over finding the door to Narnia so that Aslan can cure her mother. Terrified that to alert any adult to their situation would result is Child Services contacting their distant father and sending Alisa, who has different father, to a foster home, the three struggle to keep up appearances as things begin to unravel. As the situation declines, a kindly religion teacher tries to help, but Katherine is determined to keep him away. In a moment of desperation, she makes a decision that could cost the man his career only to realize that she desperately needs his help.

A Door Near Here is a poignant reflection on the damage that alcoholism inflicts on children of alcoholics left to fend pretty much for themselves. However, it also deals with spiritual struggle. Katherine, like many teens and adults, does not believe in God. When Alisa tells Katherine that Aslan is the "king of the animals and children in all the worlds...like God." Katherine thinks, "Hopefully more reliable than God." She is disillusioned by God, a legitimate sentiment for someone whose life is falling apart despite her best attempts to keep her family functioning. When she meets Mr. Dodson, the new religion teacher, she describes him as a religious fanatic due to his belief in God, which he associates with Alisa's belief in Aslan. In the heat of their discussion, in which Mr. Dodson shared his childhood nightmare of having an alcoholic father who beat his mother, Katherine exclaims "But you say that you believe in God? How did God let that happen? If there is a God, how come he didn't fix your family? How come he didn't save your mother from your father?" Mr. Dodson falteringly responds that God gave us free will, and that it is not that God leaves us alone, God just doesn't fix everything. Katherine, however, refuses to relent, ending the conversation by stating that "It doesn't help to believe in God. We have to help ourselves." This is a common sentiment, one which most every individual raised in a faith tradition asks at one point or another. The problem of evil and suffering in our world is an immense stumbling block to any belief in a benevolent deity. One need only look at the headlines of a newspaper to see that the amount, intensity, and duration of suffering in our world is horrendous. Where is God in ethic strife or sever malnourishment or the homeless man on the corner of Grand and highway 40? This "spiritual crisis" or disillusionment, or even just an overwhelming realization of suffering, is a common human experience that is often neglected in young adult literature. In fact, this is the first YA novel that I have read where the theme even surfaces. Yet, often the high school years are the time for such questioning and criticizing of accepted beliefs. That this novel addresses the topic at all is refreshing and, quite frankly, authentic. Despite the increased secularization of the world, we still live in a primarily religious society where the majority of people affiliate with some group or another, or if not, remain influenced by the religions surrounding them. It is a topic that deserves more space.

This novel engaged these issues without focusing on them as the central plot so don't get turned off by my preaching. Really, the spiritual crisis is ancillary to the bigger issue of trying to survive on one's own with no money and no parents. It is, as School Library Journal writes, "heartbreaking and beautifully written." I read it in one sitting because I had to know what happened.

An Inclusive Reality: My Most Excellent Year

My Most Excellent Year by Steve Kluger is a refreshing read, a feel good story narrated in an engaging manner, guaranteed to elicit some laughs. Told through a series of journal entries, e-mails, and letters, the novel follows the lives of three high school students: the avid and obsessive Red Sox fan T.C., his "brother" Augie who has a flare for live theatre, and new student and daughter of the Mexican ambassador Alejandra. Each member of this eclectic trio relates the events of his/her freshman year as they deal with first loves, following dreams, and expanding the notion of family.

This novel is truly a breath of fresh air after reading so many novels dealing with the dark side of humanity and the screwed up lives of teens. The novel presents an alternate picture of high school reality, one in which students basically get along and teens have good relationships with their parents. It also presents a picture of what an inclusive society might look like. The novel blurs boundaries. T.C. and Augie are recognized by all as brothers as the two merged their families. However, the two are not biologically brothers. T.C. is white and the son of Pop while Augie is Asian and the son of Mom and Dad. Yet, the two families are for all purposes one. They do holidays together and vacations, and each boy has a bed and wardrobe at each house. Later in the novel, T.C. befriends a 6-year-old deaf child who gradually melts into the family also. Furthermore, Augie is gay and no one cares. His father at one point states, "Has this generation finally made [the I'm gay conversation] superfluous?" In our society, not yet. But in My Most Excellent Year, Augie is gay without the stereotyping or the angst often caused by other people's negative reactions. Everyone already knew anyway and he is able to be himself. He can still excel at soccer, swimming, and lacross and run the school musical. He is not ostracized from the jock world simply because of his sexual preference.

Kluger presents a picture of what an inclusive reality that accepts people and that is not defined over and against the other but rather alongside the diversity could look like with out falling into mere idealism. The novel is not naive. It merely suggests that superficial differences that often create pain and difficulty for those who are often seen as outcasts or odd need not be an unchangeable reality. A little open-mindedness and willingness to accept people as they are, to revel in the diversity, has enormous consequences on inter-personal relationships and, hopefully, on society as a whole.

If you want of taste of Steve Kluger as an author, check out his website at http://www.stevekluger.com/index.html. It will give you a taste of what this book is like.

Running from the Law: We Were Here

We had a pretty heated discussion in class last week over the novel We Were Here by Matt de la Pena. The novel follows the story of sixteen-year-old Miguel after he gets sent to Juvi and then a group home for committing a crime. His counselor tells him to keep a journal, and so he does, even after he escapes the group home with fellow "delinquents" Mong and Rondell. The three begin a journey to Mexico with little money, only the clothes on their backs, and just the stars to sleep under. In the midst of adventures, Miguel begins to realize that fleeing from the past doesn't change it, doesn't erase it. Instead, he must figure out how to deal with it if he ever wants to really live.

The debate raging in class centered on the relatability of the novel. Can your average high school student relate to this novel about a half-Mexican, lower-class criminal who ends up in the system? It seems to be a very narrowing demographic, many people stated. Well, I am not Mexican, I am not male, I've never been to Juvi, and I've attended private schools my entire life and I had no difficulty relating to this novel. Granted, most of the time, my perspective in the story was not from Miguel's position so much as from his counselor. Not because I am a counselor but because the counselor was outside of the story. He never experienced Miguel's situation and yet he empathizes with him and desires only to help. However, because I had access to Miguel's journal, I had insight into his life that the counselor never had. I could understand Miguel more deeply. There were also times when I understood Miguel perfectly. There's a famous author named Salman Rushdie and after he wrote his novel Midnight's Children he said people came up to him on the streets of India and told him, "I could have written that." This, he said, is the greatest compliment because it shows you've touched on something real. There were parts of this novel I could have written, even if I could never have told the story. It is not my story, but Matt de la Pena touches on something real, a reality that may not be entirely my own but reality nevertheless.

One of the most poignant and striking aspects of this novel is that it critiques, or at least raises important questions about, the justice system in the U.S. It is no secret that our justice system is flawed and that minorities take the hit. In fact, while African Americans account for only 12% of the population, they account for a staggering 44% of all prisoners. A ridiculous 1 in 9 black men is in prison. (If you don't believe me, here's a link to the human rights watch http://www.hrw.org/legacy/backgrounder/usa/incarceration/ or the New York Times http://www.nytimes.com/2008/02/28/us/28cnd-prison.html) Clearly the Justice system has a problem. Minorities are prosecuted and sent to prison at a much higher rate than the white population. In We Were Here, at Miguel's group home there are three African Americans, two Mexican Americans, one Asian American, and one lone European American. Why, one is forced to ask, are the number so skewed? Miguel is just your average teenager, how does he wind up in Juvi? The theme of race runs through the entire book, exposing both the subtle and explicit racism of our culture and the destructive consequences it has on our youth, ourselves, and our society. And it does so from an under-represented but much needed voice.

This is a great read. It is engaging, fast, and sucks you in, leaving you wondering just what Miguel has done and if you're going to see him differently when you find out. It also allows an insight into a perspective that is often neglected, the "juvenile delinquent." It's definitely worth the time.

Embracing the Reality of Fantasy

I recently read what is now one of my favorite books of the semester, Graceling by Kristin Cashore. Katsa lives with her uncle Randa, the king of Middluns, one of the seven kingdoms governed by seven capricious and often warring kings. Randa usually remains neutral because he has a very dangerous tool which inspires fear in his own people as well as neighboring nations, a tool that can cause instant death and cannot be stopped. The tool is Katsa. Katsa is graced. Her one blue eye and one green eye reveal to the world that she has a special talent. Some gracelings excel in cooking or mindreading but Katsa's grace is different. Her grace is killing, as she discovers as a child when she accidentally kills a man. Her uncle exploits her grace, and rumors of her deeds, done at her uncle's bidding, assure that most people fear and avoid her. However, Katsa begins to realize that she can use her powers for her own motives, and that perhaps she need not be the king's dog. And so, Katsa creates the Council, a gathering of people who devote themselves to rescuing people from the destructive whims of the kings. When Katsa rescues the kidnapped grandfather of the prince of Lienid her life begins to change. She meets the prince himself, Po ,who's grace for fighting gives her the first competition she's known. The two quickly become friends as they work to uncover who's behind the kidnapping and why. But soon it becomes obvious that things are far worse than imagined and that even Katsa, the most powerful, may not be able to protect herself from the one behind it all.

I love fantasy. Love it and I am not ashamed to admit it. A lot of people hate the genre, take for example my roommate Micha who has been sitting next to me for the last five minutes bashing magic and dragons as she waits for Gossip Girl to come on. She claims that fantasy is not real, as if reality consists solely of what we experience ourselves. I happen to disagree. Fantasy is not about the unreal or the nonrelevant. It touches to the depths of human life and experience just as realism does, only in a way that stretches our imaginations. In a way, it requires no more imagination than reading any other novel requires. All novels require the reader to put him- or herself in the place of individuals from different cultures, different time periods, and different social/economic worlds. Fantasy does the same thing. Fantasy offers us different worlds from our own but the problems and struggles of the characters are similar. Katsa's world is one with many different cultures, each with its own customs and each ruled by a leaders who are often quarrelling. Katsa herself must deal with being different, and being ostracized for something that she never asked for and cannot change. More importantly, she must learn what power is and to whom it belongs. At the beginning of the novel, Katsa is controlled by her uncle, being sent to commit heinous deeds that she does not want to do. He owns her by bending her will to his. Gradually, she realizes that she cannot be owned by anyone but herself. It is an awakening of sorts, a realization as she begins to question just who she is and what her grace actually does. She finds her own power within, her ability to exercise it independently of another, and even in the face of betrayal can control her grace and make her own decisions. Her own grace is first feared but then embraced as she realizes that that which haunts her is the very thing that will lead her to finding herself, finding others, and ultimately living the life she desires, not one dictated to her. None of these themes are "fantasy," they are all reflected in real life, they are a fundamental part of human experience. By putting them in fantasy, however, our minds are opened beyond our own narrow assumptions and preconceptions of the real as we realize that reality has a flexible quality. It is far bigger than we ever imagined. Reality is not merely my world at SLU, its the collective experiences of the world, often revealed in literature, in all its multifaceted cultures and beliefs. So sometimes the lines between fantasy and reality are blurred, if you can just get over the apparent differences that people seem to focus so singlemindedly on and embrace the similarity.

Graceling is not the complex fantasy world of Lord of the Rings. Its actually quite normal except for graces and the fact that its set in a different world, an almost medieval world. So don't let the fact that it's fantasy turn you off immediately because its really an easy transition. And there is a companion book, not a sequel but set in the same world, Fire that I haven't read but intend to.

Here's her blog, if you are interested. http://kristincashore.blogspot.com/