I love this time of the year. New classes are exciting. Meeting new faculty members and new students is invigorating. I also welcome the shift from summer heat to the moderate fall weather. On top of all of that, it is book award season. On Tuesday, September 12, 2017, the longlist for the National Book Award for Young People's Literature (NBA) was announced. It was almost perfect timing. I was planning a post about the representation of race in the history of the first twenty years of this important and prestigious award.  So, I found myself scrabbling a bit to include the new information.

About a month ago, an article that I worked on with two graduate, Yunying Xu and Myra Infante Sheridan, was published. We were asking a simple question: How is racial/cultural diversity evident or not in the awards representing Young Adult Literature. As we explored the question, we focused in on the first twenty years of the NBA. That provided us with 20 winners and 5 books that made the short list each year for a total of 100 books. Many of us who teach and research Young Adult literature advocate for diverse books. We know that the representation is improving since the early research in 1965 by Larrick's “The All-White World of Children’s Books." Are the statistics significantly better? There is a sense that the publishing world is doing better, but what are the numbers? Each year the Cooperative Children's Book Center posts information about this issue.  However, there is very little actual documentation of the statistics as this issue directly relates to Young Adult literature. More has been done to document the disparity among children's literature.

After some trial and error, writing and rewriting the article was published in Taboo: The Journal of Culture and Education in Volume 16 issue 1, you can find the whole issue here.  For direct link to our article,  Where Are the People of Color? Representation of Cultural Diversity in the National Book Award for Young People’s Literature and Advocating for Diverse Books in a Non-Post Racial Society click here. Yes, it is a long title, but Taboo loves them.

Most of the post will be visual. Each cover image is link to Amazon where you can read reviews from readers and, in most cases, read excepts from reviews from professional review sources. 

In the article we advocate for diverse books and state the data about how diversity is represented among the 100 books and the 20 winners. In this blog post, I focus on the 20 winning books. In this first section, I show the covers of the nine books that have diverse characters.

All nine of the books are fantastic examples of quality literature. Don't misunderstand, I think the other 11 books are also great. Some of my favorite books are in that group. For example, most people get tried of me talking about True Believer and When Zachery Beaver Came to Town. And, on Thursday afternoon, my students will be discussing Holes.

The point of the paper, however, is to focus on representations of diversity. All of the books above feature a diverse main character, but not all of them are written by diverse authors. There is a whole debate about how and if writers should represent characters beyond their own experience and ethnic background. Again, the point of the paper is not to argue that issue, but to simply report the facts. Below, are the five diverse authors who wrote one of the winning books. Each image below is linked to the authors webpage with one exception. Victor Martinez is no longer with us and his image is linked to a Wikipedia page.

Neither the paper or this blog post should be interpreted as a critique of the work of any of the committees. We respect the hard work that it takes to sort through all of the books and to collectively arrive at a winner. Hopefully, the data can serve as a place for the conversation to begin as we discuss the need for diverse books. 

The blog post points briefly to the diversity among the 20 winners. The article deals with all 100 books and provides some context for the discussion around diversity in Young Adult literature and the a brief discussion about how diversity is being address in our current cultural milieu. In addition, to the discussion in the paper we have also provided a spreadsheet of all of the data that will be archive on the blog here for anyone who is interested.
In the final section of today's post you can find the current longlist for the NBA. 

The current longlist for 2017 has a great deal of diversity. As someone who teaches YA literature and research representations of diversity in this area, it is a very exciting list. I have read some, but not all of these books. My reading list for the next few weeks become a bit longer. The links below take you to a review on the Publishers Weekly website. (I good website to have bookmarked, by the way.) The cover images are linked to a place where you can by the book and see reviews by readers. I know that Sharon Kane and other teachers will be talking about these books in their YA courses over the next few weeks.

What Girls Are Made Of by Elana K. Arnold (Lerner/Carolrhoda Lab)
Far from the Tree by Robin Benway (HarperTeen)
All the Wind in the World by Samantha Mabry (Algonquin)
You Bring the Distant Near by Mitali Perkins (Farrar, Straus and Giroux)
Long Way Down by Jason Reynolds (Atheneum/Dlouhy)
I Am Not Your Perfect Mexican Daughter by Erika L. Sánchez (Knopf)
Orphan Island by Laurel Snyder (HarperCollins/Walden Pond)
The Hate U Give by Angie Thomas (HarperCollins/Balzer + Bray)
Clayton Byrd Goes Underground by Rita Williams-Garcia (HarperCollins/Amistad)
American Street by Ibi Zoboi (HarperCollins/Balzer + Bray)

I think the committee has done a wonderful job and I look forward to the short list in a few weeks. May some of the blog's readers would like to send in their comments about this list and the short list when it is released.
​Until next week.

My daughter was born on Christmas Eve. She was my first baby, and her older brother and sister were excited to meet her.
 
Did you catch that? I know it doesn’t make sense, but it is my family’s story. My first baby was my third child.
 
A year and a half before her birth, two precious toddlers became a part of my family through the foster care system. When my biological daughter was born, she was 100% their sister, never knowing anything else, yet legally she was merely another kid who lived in the same home they were placed in.
 
One day a judge signed a piece of paper. That paper made them “our children” and made the baby “their sister.” That paper had an extraordinary amount of power to clean up the mess and uncomplicate their web of family members.
 
Except that it didn’t.
 
Despite the language, despite the legality, they still have two moms and two dads and lots of grandparents and aunts and uncles and cousins and siblings. The paper made everything official and legal, but in reality, it changed absolutely nothing. Three years have passed, my eldest is now nearing middle-school (be still my mama heart), and life has failed to uncomplicated itself.
 
My experience is far from unique. In 2015 there were 427,910 children in foster care in the U.S (Full 2015 Report) . That number continues to rise. In my own home state of Montana, as of December 2016 there were 3,396 children in foster care (Adopt US Kids). In a state where the current population of youth under 18 is 113,353 (MT Population), that means almost 3% of our children are in the foster care system. There is no denying that these kids are in our classrooms and in the social networks of our students. Yet their experience is relatively unseen in the literature we teach. If students are expected to see themselves in some way in YA lit., what literary mirrors are available for foster-youth? How are they being represented to other readers? 

Runaway by Wendelin Van Draanen

​There are many things I love about this text. Although problematic if read the way I do in terms of youth agency and autonomy, it can also be read as the story of a young girl who overcomes unimaginable obstacles, never gives up despite the hardships she faces, and ultimately finds somewhere she belongs. I believe it would be particularly interesting in class discussion because of the difference in genre (it is written as a series of journal entries) and the importance of the English teacher for Holly’s growth (because, honestly, I am a bit biased). 

The Guardian by Joyce Sweeney

​Of the four texts, The Guardian is the most action-packed, complete with supernatural elements, motorcycles, an ex-con, and a kidnapping. But more than that, it demonstrates how much the complicated web of family can impact the foster-youth, albeit in extreme and unlikely ways. This text would work well in a classroom for many reasons, but the ambiguity of the title is something I would refer back to in order to keep students curious and engaged. Who exactly is the “guardian” that the title references? The answer remains unclear, even to the end. 

One for the Murphys by Lynda Mullaly Hunt           

​Although in many ways the most predictable text, this novel succeeds in one primary way: of the four texts, this one is the most self-aware of its presentation of “foster-kid” as a stereotype. Throughout the text the foster-youth is continuously comparing herself to the stereotype and trying to decide how, or if, she fits within it. For this reason, though the others have more depth in a literary sense, One for the Murphys may be the best starting point for addressing the way foster-kids are viewed in our culture and the inaccuracy of viewing people through a stereotype. (For interesting comparison, see also articles discussing the power of “stereotype threat”, such as this one by Claude Steele and Joshua Aronson.) 

Touch Blue by Cynthia Lord

​From a strictly literary standpoint, of the four listed I most recommend Touch Blue. This novel is filled with deeper threads that are begging for discussion and analysis: the significance of the island location, the metaphor of the Monopoly game, the “depiction of rurality” (as discussed in this previous YA Wednesday post by Dr. Rob Petrone and Alli Behrens), the power of superstitions, the reversal of the child-to-adult narrative, and many others.  

Though each of the above texts could provide a valid starting point for the discussion around foster-youth, the simple and didactic nature typical of YA creates some potential problems that must also be addressed.
 
Despite the seeming variety, the storylines are very similar:

1. Something traumatic happens to put the youth in foster care.
2. The youth character doesn’t feel like they belong.
3. The youth character somehow rebels against the authorities.
4. The youth character realizes that life is better if they accept their place.
5. The end assumes everything is tied up neatly and they all live “happily ever after.”

 
In every one of these texts, the foster-youth is made to submit (willingly) to the systemic authorities before their lives can improve. It is only through giving up their agency that they are able to exercise any true agency, for it is at this exact moment in each of the texts that the foster-youth are able to claim any lasting change in their own lives.

Of course, for the most part, we want our youth to submit to their various authorities (particularly to educational authorities since that makes classroom management much simpler). However, I like to believe that as educators we want to teach our students how to think rather than what to think. This includes acknowledging that not every situation is black and white, but the grey line is one they must often consider. Sometimes submission will not, in fact, make everything better. Sometimes subversion is necessary. Sometimes...well, almost always, things are just not that simple.
 
Second, the assumption of “happily ever after” can be problematic, particularly for young readers who almost see themselves in the text. It can provide hope, but if their situation is not neatly worked out like those in the texts (it won’t be) I fear it can actually fuel a sense of hopelessness and self-loathing. “What’s wrong with me? Why don’t I get the happy ending?” Despite finding and reading books about foster-youth, few foster-youth will find their experiences in the texts. Based on my own experience with foster and adoption, it just doesn’t work the way it does in the books.
 
I believe the most successful approach to these texts would be acknowledging and addressing these concerns head on. Make each a topic of class discussion, and have students critically consider the benefits and drawbacks of the after-school special conclusions in not only these texts but much of YA literature, both in their tendency to teach a lesson that reinforces common power structures and the way everything wraps up so nicely in the end. ​

My kids are no longer in foster care. As of May 2014 they are part of our forever family. They may no longer be “foster kids,” but for the rest of their lives they will always be kids who were adopted from foster care. I want them to see their stories in the literature they read, but I want them to read them critically and avoid believing any narrative that is either too directive or too simplistic. As an educator I want students to see the texts not only as mirrors and windows, but also to understand that the view they get from each is a singular window to a singular situation, and not necessarily an accurate representation of the experiences of any individual or group. However, if we can get them to read critically, these books are great for beginning the conversation about the foster system and those who are most directly affected by it.
 
A final plea: If you are an author, please consider examining the foster-care system and creating a strong story around it. We need more options, particularly for an older YA audience.

Shauna is an adjunct professor at Montana State teaching writing and literature. She taught high school English for five years and this is her second year at MSU. She can be contacted at: ​mrs.s.stephens@gmail.com 

Angela Insegna is back as a guest contributor after only six weeks. What can I say? She had another good idea and I had to fit it in. You can read her earlier posts here and here. Angela is one of the people I go to for inspiration. The first time I reviewed a syllabus for one of her courses, it changed how I thought about the relationship between young adult literature and popular culture. Maybe one day we will have her write about she constructs a syllabus that deals with both. in this post, she talks about how art is valued in in the narrative of young adult literature. It reminded me of an article for The ALAN Review written by Connie Zitlow and Lois Stover entitled Portrait of the Artist as a Young Adult: Who is the Real Me. The project lead to a book, here is the link. Of course, Angela takes a new look at the topic. Hey Angela, any plans for a book down the line? Take it away, Angela.

My students organically noted the parallels between both artistic boys, which led to in-depth discussions about the inherent value of art and the portrayal of young male artists in these texts.  Art was not the province of boys, who were to be more utilitarian, full of common sense, they noted.  They spent a whole class period discussing ways that Jesse’s father might complete his sentence about what “old ladies” were doing to his only son. Art then became a gendered vocation, even though most of the touchstone figures in painting, writing, and music are men and both high school and middle-grades curricula situated under Common Core standards do not offer gender-balanced readings.  More specifically, art and artistic endeavor in Myers and Paterson’s texts were gendered and determined by class.  Jamal and Jesse live in socioeconomically challenged households.  Jesse’s material concerns—his family cannot afford paper or “real paints”—indicate that artistry may be reserved for those who have leisure time and wealth.  Jamal likewise thinks about acquiring art supplies for a special occasion like Christmas: “he would ask Mama to buy him some real paints, not like the watercolors that you got at McCrory’s.  And a real paintbrush, too. . . . Maybe even two, a big one that was flat on the end and a little one with a point.” Both boys also, my students noted, have friends who encouraged them and responded positively to their talents:  Leslie for Jesse, Tito for Jamal.  These peers counteract the adult viewpoints, spurring both adolescents on towards refining their skills.  

Following the Ariadnic golden thread of art’s representation in YA evolved into a project for me, especially with the advent of STEM programs which, at first, excluded art as a valuable province.  Some discounted it because they assume artists cannot thrive in the marketplace.  But for some adolescents in #YArt-centered texts, drawing affords much-needed escape from untenable emotional—not economic—situations.  In Barry Lyga’s The Astonishing Adventures of Fanboy and Goth Girl (2007), Donny Marchetti designs his own graphic novel with the goal of attending a Comic Convention and presenting it to his favorite artist.  His artistic outlet allows him to better handle school bullying, his parents’ divorce, his new “step-fascist,” and the widening gulf between him and his pregnant mother.  Lyga’s text does not provide actual images alongside the conventional narrative, though the themes of using artistic endeavor as an escape and as a vehicle towards self-identity exist on every page of Donny’s tragicomic narration.  Sherman Alexie’s The Absolutely True Diary of a Part-Time Indian (2007) also illustrates the importance of artistic endeavor for adolescents via the character of Arnold Spirit.  In the first few pages we learn how Arnold views drawing, as he ruptures the novel’s ubiquitous humorous tone to state, “the world is a series of broken dams and floods, and my cartoons are tiny little life boats.”  Like Donny, Arnold is bullied.  Born with encephalitis, he is picked on because of his large head and small body.  Cartooning provides him with an opportunity to share—and process—his experiences. Readers of this novel are the benefactors of 97 of Arnold’s images, drawn by Ellen Forney.  

In two more #YArt novels, artistic production allows for survival in the face of traumatic events.  In Ruta Sepetys’s Between Shades of Gray, set during Stalin’s Reign of Terror, 15-year-old Lina Vilkas’s family is detained by Soviet police and sent to Siberian labor camps.  Lina, who had been preparing to go to art school, must now survive harsh winters and inhumane treatment. Because the family is separated from her influential Provost father, Lina resolves to use her artistic ability to get word to him of their condition.  She draws on a handkerchief which she then passes to another in hopes that, eventually, her father will receive the message she has drawn on it.  Later, for extra rations, Lina draws for one of the Soviet commanders.  Her mother encourages Lina’s drawing, though it is dangerous to do so in the camps, because “the world has no ideas what the Soviets are doing to us” and the drawings she produces act as a living record of the events.  Finally, her memories of the art of Edvard Munch sustain her during the crucible.  For Lina, artistic endeavor is linked to sustenance, physical and mental.  

In Brendan Kiely’s and Jason Reynolds’s novel All American Boys, Rashad’s artistic ability enables him to survive after he endures an unjust beating from a police officer.  Rashad contrasts his life to that of Bil Keane’s Family Circus, since uses the familiar circle as his frame to provide a point of view.  He explains, “the circle changes how you see it. Like what are we looking through? A telescope?  A peephole?  The sight of a gun?”  Like Lina, Rashad also admires an artist:  Aaron Douglas, of the Harlem Renaissance.  To move through the trauma he has experienced, Rashad uses art.  To provide others with a view into his life—a peephole, if you will—he draws.  Thus, also like Lina, art provides Rashad with a way into and out of hardship.    

​Despite the central role they play in intellectual and personal development, the arts are under assault in the United States.  President Trump proposed eliminating the National Endowment for the Arts (NEA), the National Endowment for the Humanities (NEH), the Institute of Museum and Library Services, and the Corporation for Public Broadcasting in March of this year.  While the House rejected the proposed eradication of these agencies, they did approve in July a $5 million dollar cut to the already-beleaguered budgets of both the NEA and NEH during fiscal year 2018.  STEAM programs honor the arts, seeing them as integral to a well-rounded education and, more importantly, for harnessing the creative impulse.  However, we must make certain not to see the arts as a stepping stone to the sciences as some STEAM programs may be tempted to do.  Instead, art stands alone, inspiring and encouraging reflection or reaction.
 
Studying YA’s complicated representation of art, artists, and artistic production over time creates a panoramic snapshot of cultural attitudes towards artistic endeavor.  Adolescents and teachers alike can ruminate on these depictions as they determine art’s position in their own historical moment. 
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What other YA texts represent art?  Follow this golden thread with me by commenting here or using the hashtag #YArt on Twitter, Instagram, or Facebook.  

Dr. Kia Richmond is this week's guest contributor. Kia and I have know each other for a long time. She was one of the very first people I meet as a graduate student. When I started following YA scholars at conferences, Kia was there. When I showed up at CEE gatherings at NCTE and at the CEE conferences, Kia was there. Kia has always been a source of support and you can count on her to welcome people into the academic communities of NCTE, CEE, and ALAN. Thanks Kia. She has been on sabbatical and writing a book. Today she shares some of the insights about YA literature and how it portrays Mental Illness.  

Research from the National Institute of Mental Health (2015) reports that one in five youth aged 13-18 experience a “seriously debilitating mental disorder.” Based on conversations with teachers in public schools across the U.S. and on my service on the board of directors of a regional nonprofit focused on helping troubled youth, I would say that number seems a tad low. 
​
Since I started my career as a professor over sixteen years ago, I have included young adult literature featuring characters with mental illness in my humanities and English Education courses (see “Using Literature to Confront the Stigma of Mental Illness”). I bring in YA lit because books written specifically for teenagers offer our future educators insights that are not always accessible through reflections on their own schooling, textbooks by experts on pedagogy, or field experiences at local schools.
 
This year while on sabbatical, I am completing research for a book forthcoming from ABC-Clio/Greenwood Press (Mental Illness in Young Adult Literature: Exploring Real Struggles through Fictional Characters). While reading selected YA novels purchased with a research grant from Northern Michigan University, I have reflected on many of the benefits of including books about mental illness in high school and college classrooms. Here, I will highlight two issues:  
 

• YA lit can demonstrate how our language signifies our beliefs
• YA lit can showcase authentic symptoms of mental illness

​In many books that feature characters with mental disorders such as schizophrenia or depression, readers will notice a variety of terms for someone who has a mental illness (used by an individual with the disorder to refer to the self as well as by those who are talking about others). Here is a sampling of some of the terms used by the characters in Your Voice is All I Hear and Freaks like Us (both about young adults with schizophrenia) as well as Get Well Soon and It’s Kind of a Funny Story (both focused on teenagers with depression):
 
insane, apeshit, crazy, nuts, weird, lunatic, depressed, psychotic, anxious, delusional, sick, freaks, impaired, alphabets, fucked up, mental patients, screwed up.
 
A few of these (such as anxious or depressed) are authentic terms for mental illness as identified by the Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders (5th ed., APA, 2013). However, the majority of the terms are slang – mostly negative labels or insults, and whether used by the character with the mental illness or someone else, the results are typically the same: isolation, disapproval, or (self-) doubt. 

How we talk about individuals can affect how we treat them (public stigma), and how we talk about ourselves can influence how we treat ourselves (self-stigma). Research in psychology reports that there are many stereotypes about individuals with mental illness; often, they are considered incompetent, dangerous, and responsible for their own illnesses. If someone with a mental illness applies such beliefs to the self, that person can develop lower self-esteem, which can in turn affect how the individual behaves and feels.

In Labeling people as ‘The mentally ill’ increases stigma, Darcy Haag Granello, a professor of counselor education at The Ohio State University, describes a study on the use of terms such as “mentally ill” and “persons with mental illness” and confirms that words influence our attitudes, which guide behaviors. Likewise, researchers in London (Diana Rose, Graham Thornicroft, Vanessa Pinfold, and Aliya Kassam) have identified 250 different labels used to stigmatize individuals with mental illness. Their study highlights that young people have a lack of factual information about mental illness and points to media, family, and peers as sources for the derogatory terms learned.  

​Educators and others who work with adolescents should talk about the vocabulary used in YA novels and discuss how negative terms can influence beliefs and behaviors and perpetuate stigma. Doing so could help to counteract the abundance of the pejorative terms used in the media and elsewhere, and perhaps could change how individuals with mental illnesses are treated by themselves and others in their lives. ​

One of the reasons I am reading YA books about mental illness is to evaluate whether various disorders are authentically represented in the stories according to descriptions of the illnesses in the DSM-5 (Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders, 5th edition, 2013). Though I am still in the beginning stages of my research, I have found in the books I’ve read thus far that the majority of the symptoms characters have are represented accurately.

For example, in a series of email exchanges with her friend Connor, eighteen-year-old Isabel (narrator of Amy Reed’s novel Crazy) vividly describes her symptoms of bipolar disorder. Over a seven-month period, Izzy takes readers through alternating moods of mania and depression. Reed’s portrayals reflect many of the symptoms common with bipolar disorder such as:  

• depressed mood
• feelings of worthlessness
• feelings of grandiosity
• sleeplessness
• bursts of talkative energy
• impulsivity
• increased irritability
• intense goal-directed activities
• extreme involvement activities with potential for negative results.

 
In one of her manic states, we can see Isabel’s increased energy. She says she is on a “different frequency” and rambles that “space and time have spikes and gravity shifts around one moment you’re flying and the next you’re a pancake on the highway and the cars are running over you one after another after another and it doesn’t hurt.” When she is in a depressed state, Izzy feels worthless: “I am a parasite on this world. I suck the life out of the things I love…Somebody shoot me. Somebody put me out of my misery.” Thanks to these kinds of descriptions, and Connor’s responses to them, readers get a better understanding of bipolar disorder.

In Neal Shusterman’s award-winning novel Challenger Deep, fifteen-year-old Caden Bosch exhibits symptoms of schizophrenia that align well with the DSM-5’s list for that disorder, which can include:

• racing or jumbled thoughts

• a pressing need to pace or walk around
• auditory and visual hallucinations
• paranoia.

 
Caden thinks another student at school is trying to kill him, and believes that “hissing sprinklers” are actually snakes in disguise. He believes he is on board a large ship headed for the Marianas Trench, sailing with a captain (with an eye patch) whose parrot has “an eye patch and a security badge.” Because he has difficulty differentiating between reality and fantasy, Caden’s descriptions of his symptoms –and his journey - take on multiple meanings. Shusterman tells readers that the story is not a work of fiction because the “places that Caden goes are all too real.” The author’s own son experienced mental illness, and Shusterman tried in the novel to “capture the descent” into “the deep.” His goal for the book is to help individuals with mental illness feel less alone and to help others to develop empathy for those who “sail the dark, unpredictable waters of mental illness.”
​
Jessie Hatcher, the fifteen-year-old narrator of Motorcycles, Sushi, and One Strange Book, authored by Nancy Rue, consistently displays realistic symptoms of inattention and hyperactivity-impulsivity, both of which are associated with Attention-Deficit/Hyperactivity Disorder (ADHD). She has difficulty concentrating and describes her mind as running nonstop like a hamster on a wheel. Additionally Jessie has trouble:

• being forgetful and disorganized
• appearing not to listen when spoken to directly
• being easily distracted
• blurting out answers before questions are completed.

These kind of behaviors are in part the reason for Jessie’s struggles in school and with relationships, and perhaps why she self-identifies herself as a “ditz-queen-airhead-moron.” Jessie’s story is focused on managing the symptoms of her illness while changing her self-labels to more positive ones, thanks in part to her father and a mysterious book filled with Biblical messages.
 
All three young adult characters described above – Izzy, Caden, and Jessie, receive treatments such as medication, therapy, and/or hospitalization for their mental illnesses after being diagnosed by medical professionals. Readers, especially young adults, should be cautioned not to try to diagnose themselves, their friends, or relatives by using lists of symptoms in novels or elsewhere. Likewise, teachers and other adults should not assume that the symptoms shared by teens in YA novels are consistent across all youth; like all illnesses, symptoms vary from individual to individual. All readers, however, can turn to YA literature texts such as these to learn more about those who have mental illnesses. 

In her YA Wednesday blog about Thirteen Reasons Why, North Carolina State University English Education professor Michelle Falter calls for us to be brave: “Braver than we ever have been. Brave because our students are braver than us, and are ready to talk” about issues such as “drug use, alcohol, rumors, social media, bullying, depression, rape, and yes…suicide.”

Bringing in books about mental illness to high school classrooms means that issues such as depression, schizophrenia, bipolar disorder, and ADHD will be discussed. Teachers might feel unqualified to handle such discussions. However, in an Education Week article in 2014, Thomas J. Cottle and Jennifer Greif Green say that teachers don’t have to become “experts in diagnosis or treatment” nor do they need to “assume the role of therapist or counselor.”

Talking about characters with mental illnesses is not a new concept - think of the suicides in Romeo and Juliet, depression in Hamlet, and PTSD in The Things They Carried. We are already doing some of this kind of work. Great articles on young adult literature – including articles related to psychological issues and mental illness – can be found in The ALAN Review, Study and Scrutiny, and the Journal of Adolescent and Adult Literacy, as well as in NCTE journals such as English Journal, Voices from the Middle, and English Leadership Quarterly. Additionally, a 2016 book by Dean A. Haycock, Characters on the Couch: Exploring Psychology through Literature and Film, offers insight into 100 well-known fictional characters from books and films.

By doing a bit of research and being willing to have the conversations (being brave, as Falter recommends), educators and others invested in helping youth can challenge the stigma associated with mental illness.
For additional resources, visit these web sites:
​
http://stopthestigma.org/
http://www.bringchange2mind.org/
https://www.nami.org/Find-Support/Teens-and-Young-Adults
https://www.jedfoundation.org/
http://youth.gov/youth-topics/youth-mental-health

This fall I will be teaching an undergraduate Young Adult literature course for the first time in about four years. I am excited about the opportunity. It will be my first time teaching the class since I have started the blog. I am going to make the course planning and resources as transparent as possible. In fact, I will encourage other classes to take a glance at our activities from time to time. Parents or teachers can feel free to follow our reading schedule and comment on their readings. Five of the weeks will be free choice selections based on a genre. I readily admit that I favor contemporary realistic fiction, memoirs, verse novels, non fiction, and historical fiction. Those will be adequately covered in the assigned texts. (See the link to the course's required readings here.) I do take a critical approach through most of the class that focuses on the issues of race, class, and gender. I believe that scholars and teachers of this literature should be able to apply a critical lens to their readings, these happen to be mine, but students in my class can use the lens they choose.

While using critical lenses is important, I also believe students should be exposed to the various genres in the this rich world of young adult literature. I read sporadically in all of these, but would not claim the expertise in these areas that I know some of my colleagues have. Rather than assign a text in each genre, I have selected ten in each as examples that the students can choose from. They are, of course, allowed to explore and select another text as well. The wonderful librarians in the Teacher Development & Resources Library are also compiling added resources for each category as an extension of the course resources. (Thanks Amanda and crew!)

This will be primarily a visual post. I don't want to make to many comments on the books. I want them to explore the reviews of the books on their own with deciding which one I might prefer over the others. Of course, feel free to add a comment about which book your might choose or recommend to others.

You do notice that I left out The Hunger Games and Divergent series. I am sincerely hoping that my students will at least know about these through the films. Please add your suggestions and or definition of the genre.

Graphic novels are rich part of young adult literature. There some great books that I didn't include and I can't wait to see what my students select.

These category seems to be growing and, I believe, is becoming more difficult to define. I avoid books that are linked to mass market series-- Wimpy Kid, Percy Jackson, Theodore Boone, Alex Rider, Stranded, Comeback Kids, and a host of others. I actually like many of these and I hope kids are reading them. I think teachers should know them and support them. At the same time, I wanted to point future teachers to books that might have stronger literary quality and belong, less frequently, to a mass marketing category. I also writers like David Lubar shouldn't be neglected. Maybe I should do a whole post on just how funny I think he is.
​

There was a time when I read a great deal of fantasy fiction. I think the field is rich and the description of the what counts as fantasy and what doesn't is confusing. It will be a task that my students will have to wrestle with in a few short weeks.

I also struggle to define science fiction. Many of the books listed here might also be listed in the dystopia category.  Does it have to involve space or time travel, imagined machinery, genetic manipulation, or worlds in a galaxy far, far away?

Thanks for following. I am interested in how many of you will approach teaching these genres. I would love emails or commentaries.

Until next week.

Steve 
stevebickmore@gmail.com 

Years ago, as I was just finishing graduate school, I heard a wonderful talk at the ALAN workshop. This lovely woman in a sari discussed her new novel, Climbing the Stairs, and I knew I had to start reading it that very minute. Several years later, I had the chance to meet Padma and she has become one of my favorite people in the YA community. You can read an interview with her here. In this Friday edition of Dr. Bickmore's YA Wednesday Padma talks about the verse novel.  Thanks Padma.

​A Time To Dance was my first foray into the world of verse novels. When I heard my protagonist, Veda, speak (in my head), I knew she demanded a verse novel.
 
I was terrified. What business did I have writing novels – and that too verse novels?
It’s the same kind of terror I feel as I write this blog post, because my doctorate is in oceanographer, not literature. Yet, just as I felt compelled to write A Time To Dance in verse, I feel compelled to share my view of what a verse novel is. Partly because, a while ago, I heard a brilliant verse novel described as the work of a “prose writer” – and this comment was meant to be derogatory.
 
Given my training as an oceanographer, I didn’t quite grasp this; I agreed that indeed, it was prose poetry.  I hadn’t fully understood that “Poetic prose” is a complement, whereas “prosaic poetry” is decidedly an insult.
 
Since then, I’ve come to realize that there’s a strange hierarchy in my new field, where poems occupy the top spot. I hear editors insist that every poem in a verse novel they’ve edited is worthy as a stand-alone piece. I also meet verse novelists who consider themselves poets and feel poetry is a worthier contribution.
 
I don’t subscribe to such hierarchies. Is An Na’s A Step From Heaven less powerful or less literary than a verse novel because it’s written in powerful prose vignettes?
Not at all!

Whether a work is poetry or prose is not some kind of value judgment.  Nor should it be. Poetry and prose and verse novels are 3 different forms. Poetry isn’t inherently nobler than prose. A verse novel shouldn’t be judged by the yardstick we use for poetry or the yardstick we use for prose, although a good verse novel is informed by both these parent forms.
 
In writing A Time To Dance, I was encouraged by many contemporary poets: Richard Blanco, Scott Hightower, Peter Covino, Peter Johnson, and, to a lesser extent, Greg Pardlo. It was when I sat in on a workshop that Pardlo conducted at the Ocean State Summer Writing Conference, that I became convinced that verse novels are a different species, related to but not the same as either prose or poetry. 

Pardlo discussed the idea that poems may be classified into lyric, narrative and dramatic/persona poems. Lyric poems, as I understand, are poems in which language is incredibly important; narrative poems are those in which there is movement, as in storytelling; persona poems are those in which a person’s character comes alive.
 
This classification, I realized, is not unlike one way we might classify prose. Lyric poems bear a semblance to novels of ideas; narrative poems to novels in which plot takes center stage; dramatic/persona poems to novels where the plot is really a plot of character.
 
It appears that lyric poems are for the most part in vogue these days; the other forms are still extant, but considered somewhat older (and, I sometimes get the feeling they’re also considered less important). Interestingly, however, we also live at a time when we value character growth, arguably far more than even plot, when we read literary novels.
 
A verse novel, to me is a hybrid form – a style of expression where lyricism is incredibly important; where poetic elements (such as rhythm) have a far greater role to play than they do in prose. However, unlike lyric poems that are emotional or intellectual snapshots that do not seek to tell stories, verse novels must tell stories. Each verse may capture an emotionally rich moment; yet it must bear a relation to the whole – it cannot and usually does not – stand alone.
 
Our job as verse novelists – our primary duty – is to tell the story. To keep the plot moving, not to transfix the reader so the reader is made to feel that he or she must stop and admire each piece – the way he or she might dwell on a poem. We walk a tightrope, trying to balance plot, character and lyricism; and if we allow the lyric element to take over fully, then we are writing a series of poems, not developing a verse novel.
 
Verse novels may be composed of exquisite pieces – each of which one may delve into and enjoy independent of the others – to a certain degree. But because a verse novel attempts to tell a story (unless it’s an experimental post-modern push-the-envelope piece of work), it must unite and thread and move the reader along. A verse novel is a map that directs the reader on an intellectual and emotional journey. In a verse novel, however, understanding (of plot, character, emotion) builds almost always, as one progresses. Even if the plot is non-linear, the order in which the author chooses to place the verses is immensely important – and in this way, the verses depend on one another. They must work together as organs function together in the human body.

In contrast, one may open a book of stand-alone poems, randomly, dip into a page and then ruminate – without necessarily missing a vital insight. Although poems in a collection may be arranged for a particular effect, reading them in order is rarely fundamental to understanding and experiencing the collection.
 
Another way to envision a verse novel is to think of a book as a piece of visual art. Reading a book of poetry is like walking through a sculpture room in a museum; while the sculptures may be related in terms of theme, each exists in isolation (although the viewing experience may be enhanced because they’re all present in this room together). A verse novel is one sculpture – one magnificent sculpture – in which we may admire the way each element is carved; but ultimately, the object of the sculpture is to be viewed as a whole. If each part of a sculpture demanded too much attention, it would, in fact, detract from the ability of the sculpture to be enjoyed as a single object.
 
Or, and I can’t help but use another metaphor – whereas a verse novel is like a bouquet of flowers in which each beautiful blossom is arranged to create a certain effect, a book of poetry is a floral field. 

​That, by the way, is a fine choice. It’s been done and done brilliantly. Two of my favorite books for young people – Marilyn Nelson’s My Seneca Village and Nikki Grimes’s One Last Word are enduring examples of poetry collections, centered on a theme. They are marvelous books of poetry; I do not consider them verse novels. They paint pictures; they captivate our minds and hearts; they illuminate characters; but they do not tell stories in the traditional sense. Or if they do, they tell stories in a manner radically different from the storytelling in a novel. Marilyn Nelson’s Carver: A Life in Poems is another such example of a marvelous book of poetry that provides a deep insight into the life of George Washington Carver and leaves us with a lasting impression of his life and times; but it is, to me, a book of poetry, not a verse novel. 

On the other hand, Nikki Grimes’s Garvey’s Choice is a verse novel. As are Holly Thompson’s Orchards, Thanhha Lai’s Inside Out and Back Again, Jeannine Atkins’s Stone Mirrors: The Sculpture and Silence of Edmonia Lewis. Kwame Alexander’s The Crossover, the verses come together to create a crescendo that is akin to a novel’s climax. In verse novels, the scenes cumulatively form a plot arc just as in fiction narratives.On the other hand, Nikki Grimes’s Garvey’s Choice is a verse novel. As are Holly Thompson’s Orchards, Thanhha Lai’s Inside Out and Back Again, Jeannine Atkins’s Stone Mirrors: The Sculpture and Silence of Edmonia Lewis. Kwame Alexander’s The Crossover, the verses come together to create a crescendo that is akin to a novel’s climax. In verse novels, the scenes cumulatively form a plot arc just as in fiction narratives.

Verse memoirs are, in my opinion, also stories about actual events, told through the medium of poetry. In the moving memoir, Brown Girl Dreaming by Jacqueline Woodson, we experience character growth just as we would in a novel. Similarly, in Margarita Engle’s Enchanted Air, our feeling is of having been told a rich, beautiful, story in sensual, lyrical language.  While these books are classified as nonfiction, they are structurally similar to verse “novels.”
 
Other verse novels fall in different places along the spectrum from straight prose to outright poetry. For instance, one may argue endlessly about Sandra Cisneros’s classic, The House on Mango Street. I’ve heard this book described as prose, poetic vignettes, prose poetry, and poems. And doesn’t Kimberly Newton Fusco’s Tending to Grace blur the line between poetry and prose? Does it matter, so long as we are moved by the words? 

​When we write for young readers, we cannot, nor should we, sacrifice the structure of sentences at the altar of lyricism the way a poet writing for a grown up audience may (and perhaps even ought to) do. If we choose this degree of obfuscation, we force our readers to follow a course that is set up like a hurdles race; not a clear track. Does this make us prose poets? Does this make our verses “broken line prose”? Are we inferior because we wish to sing a story, the way bards of old sang ballads?
 
I don’t really care. I do care that my verses keep my reader listening to my story. I do not want my reader to stop and drink in each verse in a verse novel; in a book of poems, I would want to the reader to ponder each verse. Nor, I might add, do I wish, when I write a verse novel, to write a “page turner” – prose is probably far better suited to fast-moving plots paced so that the readers heart races. In writing a verse novel, I want my reader’s heart to beat at a different rhythm than when I write in prose. My aim in writing a verse novel is different than in writing a book of poems or writing a prose novel – not least in terms of the speed and direction in which I hope to propel my reader. This is neither better nor worse than a poet’s aim or a prose novelist’s aim – it’s just different. 

Award winning American author, Padma Venkatraman, has worked as chief scientist on oceanographic ships, spent time under the sea, directed a school, and lived in 5 countries. Her 3 novels, A Time To Dance, Island’s End, and Climbing the Stairs, were released to multiple starred reviews (12), received numerous honors (> 50 best book e.g. ALA, IRA Notable; Booklist, Kirkus, NYPL, Yalsa BBYA; IBBY outstanding; and several state lists), and won national and international awards. She gives keynote addresses, serves on panels, conducts workshops, and visits schools and author festivals worldwide. Visit her at: ​www.padmavenkatraman.com

This week's guest contribution is Sharon Kane. I have been learning from Sharon for quite awhile now. Every time I talk with her I learning something new about teaching or researching young adult literature. She has been a great friend the Dr. Bickmore's YA Wednesday and you can read her previous posts here, here, and here. Take it away Sharon.

​On a Monday afternoon in June, I was in my office, happily preparing for my graduate level YA literature class.  Students would be bringing their reflections on the day’s assigned text, The Smell of Other People’s Houses, by Bonnie-Sue Hitchcock.  The story is set in Alaska, a couple of decades before my students were born, so I knew they’d see it as historical fiction. (Actually, they had earlier read Meg Medina’s Burn, Baby, Burn, set in New York City in the late seventies, so we had already traveled back in time.) I pulled books from my shelves that were set during various time periods, then dragged them in bags, boxes, and suitcases into the classroom.  After our discussion of The Smell of Other People’s Houses, including comments on the setting as it related to the plot, I placed my copy on the ledge of the white board in the front of the room, and wrote “1970” above it.  I told students we would be making a literary timeline with the books I had brought in. Then I sat down and watched.    

​There was rich discussion as students looked through the books for evidence of a year or a time period.  Some titles were obvious: Christopher Paul Curtis’s The Watsons Go to Birmingham, 1963; Chris Crowe’s Mississippi Trial, 1955; Laurie Halse Anderson’s Fever 1793. So helpful! Students reminded each other of the dates of World War II and the Civil War as well as the Renaissance; the Industrial Revolution; the Great Depression; and our country’s first Women’s Rights Convention in Seneca Falls in 1848. They decided to place books set in the twentieth and twenty-first centuries along the front of the room, while stories set earlier than that would go on tables along a side wall. I had pictured a long, linear time line, but students started a vertical layering of books whose settings overlapped. I heard comments such as, “I never realized Michelangelo and Leonardo da Vinci were contemporaries!” “I LOVED Karen Cushman’s novels when I was a kid!” “I was obsessed with books about the Great Chicago Fire, so I know this book goes here-- 1871.” “We read Rita Williams-Garcia’s One Crazy Summer last semester, so we know that took place in 1968. Do you see another book about the Black Panthers that we could put with it?”  

​When we were finished, students said they had a better understanding of how historical events related to each other in terms of time, and some began planning a similar activity for their own classrooms, representing various grade levels.  They liked seeing fiction and nonfiction books about the same topics sitting together. Gary D. Schmidt’s The Wednesday Wars is set during the 1967-68 school year, and the companion book, Okay for Now, takes place during the 1968-69 school year. It made sense to them to place biographies of John Lennon and John Glenn, along with informational books about the Civil Rights Movement and the Vietnam War, alongside those novels. 

​That evening, we never took a break.  Students just refused to leave the project.  But, at 8:00 p.m., after taking pictures with their phones, they reluctantly disassembled our literary time line and helped me lug books back to my office before leaving for home.  I was tired, and hoped to get part of my hour-long commute completed before dark.  

​I looked forward to coming back to campus on Wednesday, when I could use the same books to facilitate Part Two of my lesson on setting. We would imagine our classroom as a world map, and place the books accordingly. The front of the room would be labeled “North.”  Tables could be used for continents and countries; the floor could represent the oceans.  I thought about the books that took place in the 1930s, all clumped together on Monday.  Now they would be sorted by geography. Jen Bryant’s The Trial takes place in New Jersey in 1935, while the happenings of Out of the Dust, by Karen Hesse, occur in Oklahoma during the previous year, and Mildred Taylor’s Roll of Thunder, Hear my Cry tells a different story of 1934 in Mississippi. Al Capone Does my Shirts, by Gennifer Choldenko, is set on Alcatraz in 1935. The Berlin Boxing Club, by Robert Sharenow; Boys in the Boat, by Daniel James Brown; and Triumph: The Untold Story of Jesse Owens and Hitler’s Olympics, by Jeremy Schaap, all take place in 1936 Germany; they could stay together, but would be an ocean away from the books mentioned in the preceding sentence.  Our room would look completely different with the books organized by place! We would talk about global literature and diversity; we would be able to see where my collection has holes and needs work.

​Alas. On Tuesday, the fire code enforcers made a surprise visit to my office.  What I saw as wonderful resources for teaching about setting, they perceived as “clutter” and “combustibles.” I was cited for violations and warned that the situation must be abated immediately. I dutifully went in and put my beautiful books back on the shelves. 

​I admit that at first I felt a tad like Big Brother was watching me. But YA literature has taught me to take on others’ perspectives. Now I realize that the inspectors were doing their important job, just as I was doing mine.  I even grew to be grateful that they chastised me with a visual that I could work into this post on “Setting.”   Maybe it will help some of you, my colleagues, to feel better about the state of your offices, knowing that at least yours hasn’t led to a criminal record.  Or maybe you’d like to boast about having way more books than I have; feel free to send in pictures of your office libraries. We could make a collage. Imagine the literary time line and world map we could make with our combined YA favorites!
I love my office.  I love young adult literature. I love my students. I appreciate the TIME I spend teaching, and my favorite PLACE is the classroom. I hope you enjoy whatever SETTINGS you are in right now, whether in literature or real life. (Oh, wait, aren’t they one and the same?)

A few week’s ago I asked a couple of question on Facebook and through an email blast. They were: What are you reading this summer? and What new books might you add to your syllabus? 
​
Thank you. I had more responses than I could respond to or that I can repeat here. The most frequently mentioned book was The Hate U Give. It is next on my “to read” stack. It has been there for a few weeks. I am almost done with A. S. King’s terrific book, Still Life with Tornado. Both books have great reviews and come highly recommend by readers I trust. Indeed, both of these books showed up as answers to my query.  Angie Thomas’s debute novel has a future. After all, both Jason Reynolds and John Green provide a vote of confidence on the cover. That puts her in pretty good company.

​I have to admit, I took a break from YA and read a few books from the list of authors I read to relax. Here is a glimpse of some of the books for my summer indulgence. I had to catch up with Walter Mosely’s Easy Rawlins series so I read Rose Gold. I also checked off the 15th novel, Endangered, in C. J. Box’s Joe Pickett series. (If you don’t have time to visit the wild country of Montana or Wyoming, you can read about it right?) I also caught up with Dave Roicheaux in Creole Belle, James Lee Burke’s nineteenth novel tracking the adventures of Dave Robicheaux and Clete Purcel in and around New Iberia and New Orleans. This represents a few of the series that I dove back into this summer. The good news, there is a more recent novel in each of these fine series waiting for me at the library.   

Let's see what people are reading. Again, I had a great response. I settled on four readers who had an industrious and interesting lists. In the future, I will come back to what might go into a future syllabus.

Niki Allanah Blaylock listed the following on her bookshelf: Mosquitoland, (David Arnold); Three Dark Crowns, (Kendare Blake); Wolf by Wolf, (Ryan Graudin); Every Day,  (David Levithan), History is All You Left Me (Adam Silvera); and (Jeff Zentner)'s newest book, Goodbye Days. I have got to say, I love Niki’s list. I have read about half of these and love them. I highlighted Zentner’s The Serpent King as a YA Wednesday weekend pick a couple of weeks ago. The  rest are added to my list of books to read.

​One of the blog’s great friends, Katie Riemersma Sluiter, has been reading some great books as well. Her list includes: Between the World and Me (Ta-Nehisi Coates); Everything, Everything (Nicola Yoon); Speak (Laurie Halse Anderson), and Forgive Me, Leonard Peacock (Matthew Quick). Coates’ book has had a large affect across the United States. For those of us in English Language Arts community it might be even more impactful. There has been an ongoing discussion about diversity in classrooms, in books, and in educational policy. Yoon’s book is still on the rise with the release of the movie and her second book, The Sun is also a Star is also fantastic. Speak has a track record in the world of YA literature that would be hard to match. However, if you ignore the rest of Anderson’s works you are making a big mistake. Quick is one of my personal favorites. I was glad to see Forgive Me, Leonard Peacock on the list, I think it doesn’t get enough attention.

​Raven Jade is one of my former students at LSU and is now teaching in the Baton Rouge area. She is an industrious fireball and responded with the following:  "I've been reading YA retellings of fairy tales and myths. I'm opening up the year with a unit on archetypes, so I was hoping to find some fun examples of adaptations to spur discussion. So far, I've read Entwined--retelling of the 12 Dancing Princesses (Heather Dixon), Cruel Beauty-Cupid and Psyche (Rosamund Hodge), The Percy Jackson series (Rick Roirdan) The Goddess Test series-Persephone and Demeter (Aimée Carter), A Forbidden Wish-Alladin (Jessica Khoury), and A Promise of Fire-Greek myths (Amanda Bouchet). I know I'll be having students identify archetypes in YA, but I haven't decided if I'll have them actually read anything specific yet." I absolutely love it when I find new teachers working hard to create exciting curriculum for there students. Thanks Raven. Keep track of your efforts and you can report in a future blog post.

 For my final choice I share what June Pulliam sent. June teaches in the English department at LSU. She frequently teaches young adult literature and is an expert in horror fiction. You can find her past contribution to this blog here and she is scheduled for another post for Halloween 2017. I thought her summer reading was diverse and very interesting. Her response: “This summer I am reading Mississippi Trial, 1955, by Chris Crowe; American Street, by Ibi Zoboi; Bar Code Tattoo, by Suzenne Weyn, and When Dad Killed Mom, by Julius Lester. I haven't made up my syllabus for the fall yet, but I think I might include Randa Abdel-Fattah's Does My Head Look Big in This?” Her list reminded of old favorites and suggested others that I need to add to my list.
 
To conclude, I want to that everybody else who sent in reading suggestions. There are quite a few more books we could talk about, but time evades me. By far, the most common suggest is the The Hope U Give. If you haven’t read it, it is clearly time to join the party.

Working in the world of Young Adult Literature is a joy. I am constantly reminded about the goodness of the people in this community. I began hosting guest contributors since August of 2014 and during the past three years these contributors have addressed issues that address teaching strategies, topics of potential research, and, most importantly, the difficult issues that adolescent deal with in their everyday lives. If you are planning a YA course for this fall or if you are just interested in more actively discussing books with students, I hope you will revisit what the guest contributors have produced. This week’s contribution is a perfect example of an academic who cares about the issues that adolescents confront. Dr. Gretchen Rumohr-Voskuil has contributed several times before and has now become a valued colleague and collaborator. (You can revisit her previous posts here: Beyond How We Were Taught: Using "Book Love" to teach YA Literature Methods.,   ALAN16 Memories and Stories, and Trending Now: YA, Current Events, and Taking Action.)
This week Gretchen discusses eating disorders. Thanks once again Gretchen for another thoughtful post.

During my sophomore year of college, I kissed my then-boyfriend (and now-husband), Karsten,* goodbye as he embarked on a semester-long internship in Washington, D.C. He was strong, confident and smart, and in our time together we’d enjoyed a healthy lifestyle, shopping at the Farmer’s Market, cooking meals together, and taking runs around campus and along the shores of Lake Michigan.  I eagerly awaited Karsten’s return, yet when he stepped off the plane, he was a mere shadow of his former self.  In only 16 weeks, His sturdy, 170-pound frame had been whittled to a frail, almost skeletal 145 pounds.  Not only had Karsten learned about politics in D.C., but he had also developed an eating disorder.  When he wasn’t working, his time was spent counting fat grams and running.  Throughout the following weeks and months, Karsten exhibited many symptoms of disordered eating: an irrational fear of certain types of foods; irritability around grocery shopping, meal preparation, and meal times; a rigid, exhausting, and all-consuming workout schedule. Many of his friends, who expressed support for his initial weight loss of a few pounds, were now gravely concerned with his new appearance and behaviors; several asked if he was seriously ill.  Thankfully, with time, interventions from friends and family, and the support of a nutritionist, Karsten overcame his eating disorder. I am grateful that my beloved husband maintains a healthy weight (along with a reasonable, joyful eating and exercise regimen) today.
 
According to the National Institutes of Health, eating disorders, which include anorexia nervosa, bulimia nervosa, and binge-eating disorder, affect 2 percent of males and 3.5 percent of females.  Karsten is one of 30 million people who will deal with a “clinically significant” disorder during their lifetime, according to the National Eating Disorders Association. Given the stigma of mental health issues such as anorexia and bulimia, many eating disorders go unreported, making the likelihood of this disease--albeit closeted--even higher. In short, many of our young adults have, or know someone with, an eating disorder. Such prevalence leads me to wonder:  What eating disorder-related texts are available to our young adults? 

A quick show of my cards: I realize that for certain young adults, especially those with similar disorders themselves, books about eating disorders can be what some call “triggering,” as they could provide additional information, or even encouragement, regarding the “hows” of the disease.  Teachers should be aware of this concern, yet also consider Louise Rosenblatt, who argues that literature situates such issues “outside us, enables us to see them with a certain detachment and to understand our own situation and motivation more objectively” (40).  In other words, books can offer perspective, especially when the reader can “live” through characters’ thoughts and decisions.  In addition, when responding to any kind of literature,  teachers must keep multiple lines of communication open (so as to intervene when necessary), discussing literature collectively and individually and offering various opportunities for students to respond to literature in personal ways, especially through writing.   With Rosenblatt’s wisdom as well as our goal of open communication in mind, below I offer some recent and classic eating disorder-related young adult books.

I read The Art of Starving by Sam J. Miller, likely among the most recent YA book about eating disorders, in one afternoon.  Miller, a survivor of an eating disorder himself, describes hunger as “a pack of wolves, starving and mad running through [the] bloodstream, gaunt ribs showing through mangy scabbed fur, fangs bared at every shadow” (163-164) as he tells the story of Matt, a gay teen who feels that his eating disorder gives him special powers.  Told with suspense, tenderness, honesty and magical realism, The Art of Starving brings awareness to male eating disorders and their relationship to sexual orientation.

Wintergirls by Laurie Halse Anderson is another possibility.  Anderson captures the attitudes, habits, and feelings of Lia, who struggles with anorexia while grieving the bulimia-induced death of her best friend, Cassie.  This book is disturbing in all the good ways, holding the reader in suspense, frustration, and empathy for Lia.  Wintergirls continues to help me--and my students-- to understand the complexities of eating disorder recovery.  For those who enjoy Wintergirls, Meg Haston’s recent novel Paperweight explores similar themes.

Butter (Erin Jade Lange) was a great Summer of 2016 read, and I found that it increased my compassion for those dealing with binge-eating disorders.  Telling the story of lonely, obese, suicidal “Butter,” who plans to eat himself to death in front of his Internet audience, this book also explores online bullying, “catfishing,” and society’s treatment of people who are overweight.

Nell’s Quilt by Susan Terris was one of the first YA novels I read.  Terris places her story in turn-of-the-century Massachusetts, where Nell delays her marriage to an undesirable man by promising that she must first finish her quilt.  While Nell works on her project, she slowly eliminates certain foods--and eventually all foods, wasting away.  When I first read this book at the age of 13, I assumed that Nell perished at the end, and I still remember descriptions, events, even phrases. Since rediscovering this book (and related critical work) for this blog post, I’ve learned that Nell actually survives at the novel’s conclusion.  It’s interesting how my perspectives on eating disorders as well as my skill with close textual analysis have developed since I was a young reader.

A book that I plan to read this summer is Believarexic by JJ Johnson. Reviewers have noted that the novel’s protagonist, Jennifer, grows stronger in body, prose, and typeface (!) throughout this uniquely formatted book.  In fact, Johnson focuses less on Jennifer’s eating disorder and more on her recovery, making this a strong read for those concerned about “triggering” literature. 

A book that doesn’t match the content of the novels above, yet explores the societal roots of disordered eating, is Julie Murphy’s Dumplin’. This book considers the many ways our society promotes thinness above all other qualities.  In addition, considering that I am a mother of four daughters, this book has helped me think about how I model body positivity in my home.  Most of all, though,  I am delighted with Willowdean, a self-proclaimed fat girl who is perfectly happy with her body until she attracts the affection of handsome, popular Bo.  Wishing to re-establish confidence in her own body, Willowdean enters the Miss Clover City beauty pageant and, along the way, finds support in new friendships and discoveries.  This book is a strong choice for anyone desiring to help others celebrate all body types.

For those desiring nonfiction, Thin by Grace Bowman and Elena Vanishing, co-written by Elena and Clare B Dunkle, are good choices.  Both memoirs bravely and honestly explore the causes of the writers’ nearly fatal anorexia, as well as their long recovery.

Those wishing to add additional titles to their reading lists or classroom libraries can consult this list from Goodreads.
 
I concur with Joan Kaywell that books save lives.  May the above books help readers understand what eating disorders are, recognize symptoms of eating disorders in themselves as well as their peers, and connect them to people and resources that can bring healing and joy to themselves and those they love.
 
*shared with permission
Gretchen Rumohr-Voskuil
Associate Professor, Aquinas College
ghr001@aquinas.edu

Hi all. Once again we have a contribution from Georgia McBride's network. Georgia works tirelessly for the benefit of the reading lives of children and adolescents She is the operator of Georgia McBride Media Group (GMMG). This is the home of Month9Books, Tantrum Books, Swoon Romance, and Tantrum Jr.  This post is written by Chris Ledbetter, one of authors in the Month9Books. Take it away Chris.

As a former teacher, I can say with certainty that the quickest way to get a student to eye roll one eye while the other one glosses over into a haze… the quickest way for them to fall into a dribble-on-their-desks, sleep-through-the-bell, and be-late-to-next-class slumber… is to tell them the lesson is about history. That’s not completely true. But close enough.
 
I can hear the groans now. And the teeth sucking. And the sighs. Wait… is that my own PTSD? But I digress.
 
Everyone knows that if you don’t learn history you are doomed to repeat it. Usually, that only applies to the bad things. Or at least, that’s the selling point. Repeating good things is not necessarily doom, last I checked. I wish I could be doomed to good, positive things. Sign me up!

​History has many lessons to teach our youth. (And frankly, our older generations, as well.) But it’s all about the delivery system and, dare I say, the presentation. The best restaurants use healthy amount of pizzaz in their plating of food, and for good reason. To some youth, reading about history is like sitting down to a plate piled high with nice, perfectly healthy vegetables. Your parents can sing the praises of the veggies until their cheeks turn a nice shade of azure, and those sad little veggies still won’t taste better and they will have zero cool factor and even less street cred.
 
Seriously, who wants to be that kid who pulls out a baggie of celery stalks and baby carrots when everyone around them is mowing down pizza and fries? But as I said, it’s all in the delivery and presentation. Now, there are actually sneaky ways to get your kids to eat veggies. They’re hidden in juice box blends, apple sauce, and even pasta.

​Lesson: You have to Make Veggies Fun Again.
 
And that is how we can get youth, reluctant or not, to consume history… we hide it in plain sight behind an expertly eye-catchy and well-designed cover, and within a tightly plotted, unputdownable story with unforgettable characters. Who doesn’t love a good story? It’s like when you eagerly anticipate talking to your favorite uncle at Thanksgiving because you love the tall tales. And he’s got a million of ‘em. The very best history teachers are the ones who can teach it in such a way that the people throughout history become characters, each being the protagonist hero or heroine in their own plotline. That’s what makes them truly come alive.
 
Similarly, the YA author’s job in historical fiction, as well as any other story, is to transport the reader, dropping them in to a lush, fully realized, three-dimensional landscape with characters and stories so compelling that the reader completely forgets that they’re reading about history. They’re learning without even knowing it, similar to how Karate Kid learned his martial art craft by waxing the car and painting the fence.
 
Sometimes a YA story will dive into the head of a historical figure to offer a close view of what it might have been like to be that person in that period. Other times, authors will create a character that bears witness to real historical events. The end result is that the reader arrives at the end of the story with a deeper understanding of time, place, context, and significance. In that way, it’s similar to sliding on a virtual reality viewer and taking a walk through a particular moment in history… all the while having fun. It’s just like when you serve your child their favorite spaghetti and meatball dish made with veggie-infused pasta and of course, a primo red sauce chockablock with veggies they never even saw coming. 

Thanks Chris. Chris tries to practice what he advises in his new novel, The Sky Throne. It has been released this April, 2017. It is described as a YA Zeus origin story. You can read about it and by it here.

I really think Chris is on to a good idea. We have several other guest contributors who have addressed making the history and YA connection in early posts. My colleague and occasional coauthor, Dr. Paul Binford has written twice for the blog. His first post was Revisiting Emmett Till’s place in Mississippi State History and his second was Before the Dust Settles. Another post that builds on historical fiction is by Mary Warner. Her post helps us see how our students can help make voices from the past come alive: Discovering (Rediscovering) Karen Hesse’s Witness and Its Multi-genre Potential.

To finish up this week's post I am providing a slide show of several non fiction or works of historical fiction that I think are fantastic. Enjoy.