Tag Archives: sexual abuse

Turning Point by Paula Chase

by Paula Chase
Overall: 5 out of 5 stars

13-year-old Rasheeda is not looking forward to this summer, her first without her best friend, Monique, since moving in with her aunt in The Cove. Though the take ballet together, only Monique and Jamila, the best in their class, were selected and given scholarships to attend Ballet America, a 3-week intensive in another city. That leaves Sheeda home with just Tai, Mila’s best friend, and her church friends, a group which is splintering for different reasons. Oh and Mo’s brother Lennie, who is flirting with Sheeda like crazy.

Sheeda struggles with her precarious placement on the edge of adulthood, chafing against her aunt’s strict rules, but also seeing that they are there for a reason. There is an incident when an older boy, Lennie’s cousin, touches her in a way that she doesn’t like, and Lennie doesn’t stand up for her. He says, “I wouldn’t have let him hurt you,” and internally her response is, “He did hurt me, though.” Chase stops just shy of making explicit the connection: emotional harm IS harm. Harm doesn’t need to be physical or visible to be harmful. I think for 6th-8th grade readers, it might have been worthwhile to have stated this. But either way, that scene is very important and I’m glad it’s in there. It would be a great example to male readers of why consent is so important – and so murky sometimes.

The other important storyline is Mo and Mila off at the ballet intensive. They are grateful to have each other, and especially be roommates, because they are the only two Black girls there. (Curiously, their identities are not held up against anyone else marginalized, like say any boys, for comparison, but the storyline is rich enough on its own.) They share a bathroom with Katie and Brenna, who are White, and of course race, and racism, comes up. Mo is cast in the “angry Black woman” role and explains very clearly why she is frustrated by Katie’s and Brenna’s actions and words. Unfortunately, this does put her, and Mila to a lesser degree, in the role as Katie and Brenna’s teacher, but I think the microaggressions are very well shown. In a somewhat parallel situation to Sheeda’s, Mo is hurt by Katie’s failure to come to her defense in a hurtful situation – again, one that the other person didn’t recognize as hurtful.

I could go on and on about this book and the other relationships in it, but the only other one I want to mention is the one touched on most briefly: Sheeda’s relationship with her mother. I think the most telling way that Sheeda grows up is that she wants to hear her mother’s voice just to comfort her, and her mother is unable to give her any genuine attention. From the moment she answers the phone, it is all about her and her problems and her anger at Rasheeda’s aunt (her sister). Sheeda hangs up after a while, and seems to understand that her aunt is who she has, who will care for her in all the ways. Even if they don’t always agree, she’s her mother now.

The Ship We Built by Lexie Bean

by Lexie Bean
Overall: 5 out of 5 stars

This is the story of a fifth-grader who feels more like a boy than a girl. Throughout the course of one school year, Ellie / Rowan / many other names sends diary-like letters to an unknown reader via balloon, spending allowance money on the balloons and waiting by a special rock to see if anyone responds. (Spoiler alert: someone does eventually respond, at the very end.)

This is a big year for Rowan, who has had a falling-out with their former best friends and also shares in their letters hints of sexual abuse from their father. As Rowan explores their gender identity, they become more aware that what their father is doing is not right or normal or okay. Rowan’s year is so quiet; they stop speaking, and through the epistolary format we get so little of the dialogue that populates most novels, leading to the quiet feel. Mr. B, Rowan’s teacher, doesn’t say much to Rowan about their ever-changing name on their homework, except maybe to Rowan’s mother at parent-teacher conferences. This prompts Rowan’s mother to take Rowan to a psychologist and also forbids them from seeing their new best friend, Sofie. Rowan’s mother thinks Sofie is a bad influence for accepting Rowan as they are, and Rowan continues to see her anyway. The end of the book is satisfying and positive without wrapping up absolutely all of the pieces and feeling unrealistic.

There is also Sofie’s storyline, with her father’s arrest and prison time. Sofie’s family is “darker skinned” and she has “curly black hair” but to me is otherwise racially ambiguous. Rowan notices her father, Richard, get watched in a store, and is upset with Sofie that he was racially profiled and arrested unfairly. His arrest impacts Sofie’s life as she starts missing more and more school to watch her baby sister while her mother works, which in turn affects Rowan’s life because they miss their only friend in a profound way.

I have noticed something of a trend in children’s books lately where the best friend character always says and does the exact perfect thing, making them seem wise beyond their years. Now, some kids are like that sometimes; there may even be kids who are like that all the time. But it feels more like the author just making that character act as their stand-in in the story, and that’s how Sofie seemed to me sometimes.

On a more positive note, I loved all the Michigan references! Everything from Faygo Redpop to Yoopers to Michigan/Michigan State rivalry references was great. This is a historical novel, set in 1997-98, and I loved most of the references that put me right back there (though there were a few too many for my taste; not all of them served a purpose to the story).