by Jasmine Warga
Scott County Library hardcover 332 pages
Published: 2019
Genre: YA realistic fiction
This is one of this year's Maud Hart Lovelace award nominees. Tween Jude has to leave Syria with her pregnant mother while her father and brother stay in the increasingly dangerous situation at home. Her father wants to keep his head down and avoid trouble, but her older brother wants to fight injustice. In America, Jude tries to figure out her identity and place. This story is told in prose poetry style and is beautifully written.
Page 16 - "It still feels strange to ask my brother this question. His presence at ghadah used to be as certain as the sunset, but now that has also changed."
Throughout the story, unfamiliar words are used. I opted to not look for a glossary (included on page 333) and just used context clues. (ghadah = "the big family meal of the day, usually lunch")
Page 23 - "Fatima and I had never been to that movie theater or any movie theater and we tried to pretend not to be stunned by the soft red velvet seats that are so dense you can make a handprint in the fabric or the wide flat white screen that is larger than anything I'd ever seen."
When Sammy (a visitor) took Jude and Fatima to a movie theater in Syria, the girls are amazed at what they experience. Reading this made me think of how much American kids take for granted.
Page 49 - "I am learning how to be sad and happy at the same time."
This was so sweet. Jude is sad to be leaving home and half her family, but she is joyful upon learning that her mother is pregnant with a new baby.
Page 70 - ". . . I hear the warning in my aunt's voice. That is something powerful enough to transcend oceans: a mama's ability to say something without actually saying it."
Jude and her mom move in with her mom's brother and family. The American daughter Sarah struggles with sharing her home, school, and time with a girl who barely knows English. But moms - they can speak volumes with their looks and tones.
Page 92 - "Just like I am no longer a girl. I am a Middle Eastern girl. A Syrian girl. A Muslim girl. Americans love labels. They help them know what to expect. Sometimes, though, I think labels stop them from thinking."
This made me a little sad because I think it can be true. Label something or someone and close your mind.
Page 129 - "As I leave her room I think of the Arabic proverb that says: She cannot give what she does not have."
Here, Jude is thinking of her cousin Sarah. Astute observation.
Page 161 - <Spoiler alert!!!>
"But on the day Mama tells me that Issa is gone, the sky is bright, and I'm happy because in math class my teacher, Mr. Anderson, asked me a question in front of everyone and I got the answer right. In English. In front of everyone."
I read that and thought, Oh no! Issa died! But then I kept reading and found that he had gone to Aleppo, where the fighting was more fierce. And later, it's a very happy moment in the story when Jude gets to see him and video conference with him. Her brother meant so much to her. It was also such a Murphy's Law thing - on a day when things are going so well and she's so happy . . . bad news.
Page 168 - "I search every day for a clue about why I deserve to be here in Aunt Michelle's kitchen, safe and fed. When so many others just like me are not."
Ouch. Again, I don't think most American kids realize how incredibly blessed they are.
Page 221 - "On the day of tryouts, there are so many people in the auditorium and all of them have racing hearts and sweaty palms. There is enough energy in here to power a train, an airplane, a small country."
Yes, I can imagine all that middle school energy . . .
This was a lovely book. It was also educational in many respects.
