Teen Librarian Recommendations

 

Obie is Man Enough by Schuyler Bailar

 

 

Description: A coming-of-age story about transgender tween Obie. Obie knew his transition would have ripple effects. He has to leave his swim coach, his pool, and his best friends. But it's time for Obie to find where he truly belongs. As Obie dives into a new team, though, things are strange. Obie always felt at home in the water, but now he can't get his old coach out of his head. Even worse are the bullies that wait in the locker room and on the pool deck. Luckily, Obie has family behind him. And maybe some new friends too, including Charlie, his first crush. Obie is ready to prove he can be one of the fastest boys in the water--to his coach, his critics, and his biggest competition: himself.

 

Recommendation: First, an admission. I “met” Schuyler Bailar at an American Library Association conference back when I was working on my degree to become a librarian, and though I had the book that had his first published short story in it, when I heard he was publishing a novel, I knew I needed to read it. He’s just a genuine, kind man and I immediately liked him. And the book, which I found out he was working on then, is an own voices book. Obie is mixed race – Korean and white. And while he worried quite seriously about whether his Catholic Korean grandparents would reject him, he is profoundly lucky as a trans young man in that his entire family are tremendously supportive. Of course, that doesn’t mean life is easy. What I enjoyed most about Obie’s story is his relationship with his English teacher, a woman many might call odd who works with Obie every week after school to improve his writing, which at novel’s start is less than stunning. Her support of Obie’s growth might be the most important he has, as she is his rock at school, where he must avoid the bully who was once his friend, and watch the girl who was once his best friend abandon both him and herself in an effort to fit in. While Obie’s first passion is swimming, and his drive to excel in swimming against other boys is foremost in his mind and the book, his growth outside the pool is both as well-investigated and as important.

 

Punching Bag by Rex Ogle

 

 

Description: Punching Bag is the compelling true story of a high school career defined by poverty and punctuated by outbreaks of domestic abuse. Rex Ogle here describes his struggle to survive; reflects on his complex, often paradoxical relationship with his passionate, fierce mother; and charts the trajectory of his stepdad's anger. Hovering over Rex's story is the talismanic presence of his unborn baby sister. Through it all, Rex threads moments of grace and humor that act as beacons of light in the darkness. Compulsively readable, beautifully crafted, and authentically told, Punching Bag is a remarkable memoir about one teenager's cycle of violence, blame, and attempts to forgive his parents--and himself.

 

Recommendation: First off, I want to issue a warning. I received the gift of never having an adult lay a hand on me as a child. But those who have experienced abuse and trauma might be triggered by this book. My emotional response was powerful – there were times when I had to stop reading Punching Bag because, like Rex, I felt like I couldn’t take it anymore – living in constant fear that he might inexplicably say or do something, or anything really, to provoke either his mother or his stepfather. That might not sound like a rousing endorsement. But experiencing Rex’s memoir with him (keep in mind I have been called an over-empathizer), was also fascinating, complex, and thought-provoking. What is perhaps most stunning about Rex is his REFUSAL to ever hit anyone. Not in self-defense. Not in anger. And astonishingly, never in a loss of self-control. The presence in his life of his unborn baby sister, grown as she would have had she not died as a result of domestic violence, gives him the resolve he needs, not only to survive and to protect his baby brother, but also never to react with violence. Most fascinating to me is the way that Rex is able to recognize and break the cyclical nature of abuse – he sees his stepfather’s brothers tell him to get sober and stop becoming his father, and  he gathers what little hints he can of all of the trauma that his mother has worked to forget or forced into her twisted definition of love. His step-father does try, though without success, due in part at least to Rex’s mother's fierceness and twisted insistence that he deal with their arguments physically (she has come to define love through pain). Through all of this complex work of honest recognition, Rex must simultaneously remain on guard, and though his sister is a rock of his strength, she is also a symbol of the way trauma twists our relationship to ourselves – he feels guilt at her death. His mother told him, at age seven, that it was his fault, but he also believes her because he was enjoying a brief respite from fear away from home at the time – not there to try to protect his mother. The book raises compelling questions – can you forgive someone if you still fear them? Can you heal from traumatic wounds incurred at the very foundation of your self? 

 

Darius the Great is Not Okay by Adib Khorram

 

 

Description: Darius Kellner speaks better Klingon than Farsi, and he knows more about Hobbit social cues than Persian ones. He's a Fractional Persian-half, his mom's side-and his first-ever trip to Iran is about to change his life. Darius has never really fit in at home, and he's sure things are going to be the same in Iran. His clinical depression doesn't exactly help matters, and trying to explain his medication to his grandparents only makes things harder. Then Darius meets Sohrab, the boy next door, and everything changes. Soon, they're spending their days together, playing soccer, eating faludeh, and talking for hours on a secret rooftop overlooking the city's skyline. Sohrab calls him Darioush-the original Persian version of his name-and Darius has never felt more like himself than he does now that he's Darioush to Sohrab. 

 

Recommendation: Yes, this is an older book. That doesn’t mean it isn’t worth checking out! So yes, Darius suffers from clinical depression, and one thing the book does particularly well is demonstrate how one’s observations, or even deeply held beliefs, about relationships can be colored by that depression. The novel’s exploration of Darius’ relationship with his father, whom Darius calls an “ubermensch” is quietly skillful in this sense. Though Darius suffers from feeling not Persian enough during his visit to Iran, the feeling is not static. Yes, his relationship with Sohrab, a defining one for Darius, contributes to the shift in Darius’ feelings about his fractional self, but his development in Yazd is not tied to one person. Such a story would not be nearly as interesting. Darius’ relationships with his grandparents, as well as with his parents and sister, and to an extent with his more extended family, all play critical roles in how the Darius who arrives in Iran is not the same as the Darioush who returns to the US. The novel, in addition to its skillful and fascinating depiction of complex relationships and development, is also funny and charming! Have a go!