“Getting By” Is a Thoughtful Story about Attraction and Personal Growth

by | Sep 7, 2021 | Book Review, disability, Identity, LGBTQIA+, Racism, Reading, Representation, romance, The Afro YA

"Getting By" Is a Thoughtful Story about Attraction and Personal Growth

Carver, a seventeen-year-old Black man, is a high school student facing a variety of challenges. Not only is he preparing to take the ACT, but he is also dealing with violent bullies and trying to figure out his sexuality while immersing himself in his first romantic relationship. When things start to come to a head, Carver must figure out how to deal with everything and emerge unscathed.

One of the first things that I enjoyed about the book was Carver’s voice, which is formal yet very detailed and honest. While some might find it stiff and lacking expression compared to those of other teen protagonists, it’s important to note that Carver’s voice is different because he—and the author—are autistic. At one point, Carver mentions that his stoic way of speaking caused someone to nickname him “robot,” but how he doesn’t mind, since he knows he isn’t too expressive.

Of all the thoughts Carver shares with the reader, his thoughts about different levels of attraction are some of the most surprising and validating. Given that some people assume that autistic people are too childish to understand romance and sex, it was gratifying to see Carver openly and privately lust after men. At the same time, watching him realize what he wants from a romantic relationship by dating his best friend, Jocelynn, demonstrates the complexity of navigating personal sexuality.

In addition to his thoughts on his personal orientation, Carver is also gregarious about other things, such as his passion for photography, his hobbies of drawing and playing guitar, and his love of Disney films. Not only does he discuss these things through internal dialogue, but he also expresses his feelings about them with others he feels comfortable with, especially Jocelynn. One scene that I enjoyed is when the two of them go on a picnic and Carver plays a few songs that he learned on guitar.

In addition to Carver himself, there is also a decent cast of characters that drive the story along. Jocelynn is a very sweet young woman, while bullies Tyrell and Raymond are typically superficial, with a disturbing disdain for queerness. Ava and Heather are loyal friends to Carver. One character who was a pleasant surprise was Donnell, the Black jock who Carver crushes on and lusts after. At first, Donnell appears to be someone Carver can only admire from afar, but a single conversation late in the book humanizes him.

One minor issue this book has is that it can get dull when Carver isn’t narrating, thinking, or talking to someone else. Since Carver is the protagonist, it is understandable that his voice is the most dominant one in the book. However, the richness of the novel’s portrait of Carver is rarely extended to secondary characters who he doesn’t regularly interact with. It would have been nice, for example, to learn about Carver’s parents through conversations similar to those he has with Jocelynn’s parents.

All in all, Getting By is a thoughtful coming-of-age story about attraction and personal growth. With an authentic main protagonist and a nice cast of characters, this is a vibrant read.

The Afro YA promotes black young adult authors and YA books with black characters, especially those that influence Pennington, an aspiring YA author who believes that black YA readers need diverse books, creators, and stories so that they don’t have to search for their experiences like she did.

Latonya Pennington is a poet and freelance pop culture critic. Their freelance work can also be found at PRIDE, Wear Your Voice magazine, and Black Sci-fi. As a poet, they have been published in Fiyah Lit magazine, Scribes of Nyota, and Argot magazine among others.

Top photo by Thuanny Gantuss from Pexels

“Tiffany Sly Lives Here Now” Is a Dark Story of Family, Trauma, and Resilience

by | Aug 10, 2021 | Book Review, childhood, disability, Identity, Racism, Reading, Representation, The Afro YA

"Tiffany Sly Lives Here Now" Is a Dark Story of Family, Trauma, and Resilience

Content Warning

This review contains discussion of parental abuse, ableism against people with autism, alopecia, colorism, and racism.

After her mother’s death, sixteen-year-old Tiffany Sly goes to live with the family of Anthony Stone, her biological dad. However, Tiffany also has a secret: another man named Xavier Xavion thinks he might be her real dad, and he wants her to do a DNA test with him in seven days. With her life upended in more ways than one, Tiffany must make sense of who and what family could truly mean.

Speaking of families, one of the areas where this book shines is that it features a found family as well as a biological one. A found family is the family you make for yourself, as opposed to the family you were born into. Tiffany Sly gains a found family through her neighbors, a Black lesbian beautician named Jo Walton and her eccentric yet wise and kind son, Marcus. Jo Walton becomes a surrogate mother to Tiffany, allowing her to maintain her pride as a dark-skinned Black young woman and giving her a safe space to be herself. Marcus gives Tiffany the space to question how she feels about spiritual faith and death.

By contrast, Tiffany’s biological family is mostly awful, especially her father, Anthony Stone. Whether it’s because of his own self-hatred, his religious faith as a Jehovah’s Witness, or a combination of this with his own upbringing, Anthony Stone is a toxic and abusive parent for almost the entire book. As a light-skinned, mixed Black man who upholds respectability, he discriminates against or punishes anyone who does not fit his ideal, including his own family and his Black neighbors. When he first meets Tiffany, he demands she take out her braids even though they are her protective hairstyle for alopecia, a hair condition she developed due to stress and trauma. A few pages later, he also punishes his youngest daughter, Pumpkin, for being a person with autism.

Stone’s oldest biological daughter, London, is almost as bad as her father. Caught between a desire to please her family and rebel against them, she belittles or ignores Tiffany for most of the book. When London and Tiffany first meet, she makes a rude, colorist comment about how dark Tiffany’s skin is. Later, she films Tiffany falling on the basketball court and then shares the video with her friend, who uploads it with racist overtones added in. Although London swears she didn’t want things to go that far due to how her dad monitors his children’s social media, this is a really flimsy excuse.

In fact, the only family member with minor redeeming qualities is Anthony Stone’s wife, Margaret. Before Tiffany arrived, Margaret went along with whatever Anthony did in order to keep up appearances and prevent Anthony from being too harsh with her. Once Tiffany starts trying to make an effort to understand Anthony and his family more, however, she helps Margaret care for Pumpkin in a way that doesn’t trigger Pumpkin’s autistic meltdowns. Margaret, in turn, is helps Tiffany to understand Anthony’s past with Tiffany’s bio mom, Imani.

In addition to showing how complicated family can be, the book also portrays mental health, grief, and trauma in an authentic light, especially through the character of Tiffany herself. Some of her most memorable internal dialogue showcases her anxiety in a variety of situations, such as riding an airplane or a car. The way Tiffany’s anxiety and obsessive compulsive disorder are portrayed, moreover, breaks the stigma surrounding mental health by normalizing taking medication to manage ongoing conditions. Also, Tiffany’s alopecia demonstrates how trauma can affect your physical as well as your mental health.

Yet Tiffany Sly is so much more than her trauma and mental illnesses. She is shown to have a deep love of music as a guitarist; some of the best dialogue has her waxing poetic about albums by The Beatles or the artistry of Nina Simone and Gershwin. Tiffany is also shown to be both a daughter and a granddaughter through her relationships with family members, especially her deceased mother, Imani. Although Imani isn’t physically present in the book, her time with Tiffany lives on through flashbacks and one surprise that brought tears to my eyes.

In fact, Tiffany Sly’s personality and character growth are the sole reasons I was able to keep reading this book. Although Tiffany experiences great hardship, she manages to pull through thanks to her kindness toward her found family and her gradually increasing compassion for Anthony Stone’s family, which grows from her desire for a father. But Tiffany deserves a better bio family than the one she ends up with, and she deserves a chance to choose who she calls her family. As a survivor of an emotionally abusive parent, I can’t say that I was completely comfortable with the ending to this book.

While this book tackles mental health, loss, and trauma beautifully, the toxic and abusive parenting of Tiffany’s bio dad nearly undoes all the progress Tiffany makes throughout the book. Due to how harmful Anthony Stone’s parenting is for most of the book, I can’t wholeheartedly recommend Dana L. Davis’s Tiffany Sly Lives Here Now to readers. For readers who do decide to pick up this book, be aware that this book contains triggering content.

The Afro YA promotes black young adult authors and YA books with black characters, especially those that influence Pennington, an aspiring YA author who believes that black YA readers need diverse books, creators, and stories so that they don’t have to search for their experiences like she did.

Latonya Pennington is a poet and freelance pop culture critic. Their freelance work can also be found at PRIDE, Wear Your Voice magazine, and Black Sci-fi. As a poet, they have been published in Fiyah Lit magazine, Scribes of Nyota, and Argot magazine among others.

Top photo by Mike Von on Unsplash.

“Cinderella Is Dead” Offers an Engrossing Twist on the Classic Fairytale

by | Jul 15, 2021 | Book Review, Identity, On Books and Writing, Racism, Reading, Representation, The Afro YA

"Cinderella Is Dead" Offers an Engrossing Twist on the Classic Fairytale

Two hundred years after Cinderella found her Prince Charming, the girls of the city of Lille in the kingdom of Mersailles are now required to attend an annual ball to find princes of their own.

Those who are not chosen or who refuse to attend face consequences, while those who do attend risk being paired with a husband who will mistreat them. In the midst of all this is Sophia, a sixteen-year-old girl who is in love with her best friend, Erin. When Sophia decides to flee the ball and hide in Cinderella’s mausoleum, she discovers that there is more to Cinderella’s story than she has been taught.

One of the most intriguing things about Cinderella Is Dead is the world-building. By setting the story in a post-Cinderella world, author Kailynn Bayron shows us the legacy of Cinderella’s story, her descendants, and those who were around her. Since Cinderella’s story is held up as an ideal, the women of Mersailles are expected to marry young in order to provide a better life for themselves and their families. Men aren’t bound to this and are heralded as princes and knights in shining armor regardless of how they act toward women. Those with rich families in positions of power can give their daughters an advantage at the annual ball that the less privileged don’t have. Not to mention, being straight is expected of both men and women.

Yet next to no one notices how things are wrong in Mersailles. They see only the glamor of Cinderella’s story—or they are too afraid to fight those in positions of power. One bit of spoken dialogue goes something like, “By repeating a lie often enough, people believe it to be true.” Since Cinderella’s story is held up to be as sacred as religion, it is impossible for many to question it. In fact, the only people who end up questioning it are those who don’t fit the expectations of heteronormativity or submissiveness.

With a complex world comes a complex cast of characters—another strength of the book. It is particularly notable that nearly all of the characters are Black or mixed race Black, resulting in a narrative where race isn’t an issue. Almost all of the characters also have some degree of marginalization: protagonist Sophia is a lesbian, and secondary character Luke is gay but also, as a young man, someone who isn’t required to attend each ball. There are also characters who serve as a twist or extension of established characters, such as the prince, the fairy godmother, and the evil stepsister. Of the upended or legacy characters, the prince and the “evil” stepsister end up being the most interesting and creative.

Protagonist Sophia is someone who wants to make a change and fight social expectations but isn’t sure how to go about it. Due to living in a city with unrealistic expectations of women, Sophia is also unsure of her true potential. It doesn’t help that Sophia’s first love interest, Erin, is too scared to upend the rules of Lille to believe in or help Sophia. Thankfully, Sophia finds Constance, the last living descendant of Cinderella’s family, to help her form a plan to defeat King Manford. Constance is a little impulsive and brash, but she also is also a tender love interest and a thoughtful teacher. Constance telling Sophia some of the truth about Cinderella’s story and teaching Sophia how to use a dagger are some of the best scenes in this book.

The novel’s dialogue is another strong point that enhances its depiction of the characters’ emotions. One memorable conversation happens between Luke and Sophia when Luke dispassionately says, “People who don’t fit nicely into boxes the kings of Mersailles have defined are erased, as if our lives don’t matter. Have you ever heard of a man marrying another man? A woman being in love with another woman? Of people who find their hearts lie somewhere in the middle or neither?” To which Sophia bitterly replies, “Only as a cautionary tale.” This dialogue is reminiscent of how real queer people such as Oscar Wilde and Ma Rainey were criminalized for their orientation and sexual activities.

The budding romance between Sophia and Constance depicts how queerness is marginalized both in this novel and in real life, and it is endearing to read. Sophia initially admires Constance’s beauty and physical features and then begins to find it hard to concentrate or hold things whenever Constance touches her or is nearby. Meanwhile, Constance is keenly aware of Sophia’s budding feelings, and her initial flirting is amusing to watch. Sophia’s and Constance’s honest thoughts about their feelings about each other are especially sweet. I particularly liked when Sophia is admiring Constance and thinks, “Under the glinting moon, her hair is like a smoldering ember, her face so much like the splendor of the stars in the sky above us.”

All in all, Cinderella Is Dead is a dark, engrossing take on the Cinderella fairytale that challenges the reader to consider their role and the stories and history they have been taught to believe. It empowers queer women while also showing how queer and straight women can become a part of an oppressive system—and how men can become too entitled and privileged in this system, even as they are also marginalized. With a compelling cast of characters, magical dialogue, and creative twists, Cinderella Is Dead brings new life to a classic fairytale.

The Afro YA promotes black young adult authors and YA books with black characters, especially those that influence Pennington, an aspiring YA author who believes that black YA readers need diverse books, creators, and stories so that they don’t have to search for their experiences like she did.

Latonya Pennington is a poet and freelance pop culture critic. Their freelance work can also be found at PRIDE, Wear Your Voice magazine, and Black Sci-fi. As a poet, they have been published in Fiyah Lit magazine, Scribes of Nyota, and Argot magazine among others.

Top photo by Brian McGowan on Unsplash.

Pride Spotlight: Black Queer YA

by | Jun 15, 2021 | Book Review, Identity, lesbian, LGBTQIA+, Poetry, Popular Culture, Racism, Reading, Representation, Resist, The Afro YA

Pride Month Spotlight: Black Queer YA

June is Pride Month. With the pandemic still affecting the economic situation of LGBTQ people and current legislation negatively affecting trans youth, it may seem we don’t have much to celebrate.

Yet the fact that we continue to survive, fight, and triumph in small and large ways is worth being happy about. One of the most notable things is the rise of Black LGBTQ+ authors in young adult fiction.

A decade ago, the only Black queer author I knew of who wrote teen fiction was Jacqueline Woodson. Now I can name at least a dozen authors. From verse novels to fantasy, Black LGBTQ+ authors have been leaving a colorful mark for a new generation to see. Check out some of the Black queer YA books I’ve enjoyed over the past few years.

The Black VeinsThe Black Veins book cover by Ashia Monet

Nothing says summer like a road trip, even a world-saving one. This is what happens to Blythe Fulton, a Black bisexual Elemental Guardian, after her family is kidnapped and taken to the Trident Republic. Of course, she can’t rescue her family on her own, so she must recruit other Elemental Guardians to help her.

In addition to the magic and action, I really enjoyed the downtime the characters experience in this book. The friendship is so fun and heartwarming, especially because there is some flirting but no romance whatsoever.

Felix Ever After by Kacen Callender

Not only is this book set during Pride Month in NYC, but it is also about a Black trans demi boy learning to have pride in himself. After his pre-transition photos are leaked, Felix Love must find the culprit while reexamining who he is and the kind of love he wants from others.

Felix’s personal journey is poignant because it shows that one’s gender identity isn’t necessarily set in stone after coming out. Furthermore, it demonstrates the importance of standing up for who you are, even if it means having hard conversations with friends and family.

The Summer of Everything by Julian Winters

Spending summer working in a bookstore may seem like a lot of fun, especially when it’s a safe space. But what if the bookstore is in danger of closing? Eighteen-year-old Wesley Hudson deals with this with the used bookstore Once Upon a Page. Not to mention, he is struggling to plan his older brother’s wedding, figure out his future plans, and confess his crush on his best friend, Nico Alvarez.

All of these things are a part of something that Wesley has been avoiding: adulthood. As Wesley deals with a lot over the course of the novel, he manages to figure out what is most important to him with the help of a colorful cast of characters.

Let’s Talk about Love by Claire Kann

Being in college is difficult, especially when your girlfriend breaks up with you for being asexual. On top of that, Alice is also trying to figure out her career path. Things become even more complicated when she ends up with a crush on her new library co-worker Takumi. What’s a Black biromantic girl to do?

This book lives up to its title as Alice figures out what she loves to do in order to identify her future career and redefine what love means, both romantically and in terms of friendship. Not only does this book show how complex love can be, it also shows that it’s worth discussing and exploring with others.

Magnifique Noir by Briana Lawrence

College-aged everyday young women by day. Magical girls by night (and sometimes day too). This is the basic premise of Magnifique Noir, a book series about a Black queer team of magical girls. The first book in the series focuses on gamer girl Bree Danvers and boxer Lonnie Knox as they take their first steps as magical girls alongside baker Marianna Jacobs, who is the most experienced of the three.

The second book copes with the aftermath of the first and demonstrates the importance of mental health and taking care of yourself. Both feature short comics and colorful art that enhance the narrative and give the sparkly antics extra shine. They also tackle certain experiences in a mature manner, such as misogynoir, difficult parents, and online trolls.

The Black Flamingo by Dean Atta

My favorite definition of poetry is “imagination written in verse.” When this definition is applied to verse that tries to define the poet’s self, the verses themselves become a source of power. This is the case with The Black Flamingo, which tells the story of Michael Angelis, a Black British gay man with Greek-Jamaican heritage.

Through performance and verse, Michael blossoms beautifully as we read his story from childhood to burgeoning young adulthood. By using a flamingo as a metaphor to figure himself out, Michael learns to stand out and be proud.

The Afro YA promotes black young adult authors and YA books with black characters, especially those that influence Pennington, an aspiring YA author who believes that black YA readers need diverse books, creators, and stories so that they don’t have to search for their experiences like she did.

Latonya Pennington is a poet and freelance pop culture critic. Their freelance work can also be found at PRIDE, Wear Your Voice magazine, and Black Sci-fi. As a poet, they have been published in Fiyah Lit magazine, Scribes of Nyota, and Argot magazine among others.

Top photo by Anete Lusina from Pexels

 

“Every Body Looking” Dances with Verse and Self-Expression

by | May 25, 2021 | Book Review, Identity, On Books and Writing, Racism, Reading, Representation, The Afro YA

“Every Body Looking” Dances with Verse and Self-Expression

Candice IIoh’s verse novel Every Body Looking begins with Nigerian American teen Ada graduating high school and taking account of how she wants her upcoming college experience to be.

Raised by a strict, religious Christian father and separated from her alcohol-addicted mother, Ada wants to take her life into her own hands but isn’t sure how to go about it. Due to past trauma and her shaky upbringing, she is so focused on other people’s expectations of her that she hasn’t really considered what she wants for herself.

One of the best things this book does to illustrate Ada’s personal journey is include poems that present the standard definition of a word before Ada expresses her own feelings about it. An early example uses the word “safety,” showing how the standard definition of the word applies to the definition of safety that Ada’s dad wants for her as she prepares to go to college. It’s a creative way for Ada to literally define herself by examining what she has been told in order to figure out what she really wants for herself.

Another way the book delves into Ada’s personal journey is through flashbacks to her younger years. Some of these flashbacks are vulnerable and harrowing, since they deal with how people inside and outside of Ada’s family made her feel like her body wasn’t her own. In one painful scene, Ada’s aunt comes to visit and ends up fat shaming Ada and reading her private diary. Another scene shows the police coming to Ada’s door when she is home alone blasting loud music. Although these flashbacks might be triggering to trauma survivors, Ada’s experiences of fatmisia, misogynoir, sexual assault, and parental verbal abuse show just how many systemic forces work to destroy Black girls’ sense of self.

Although these flashbacks might be triggering to trauma survivors, Ada’s experiences of fatmisia, misogynoir, sexual assault, and parental verbal abuse show just how many systemic forces work to destroy Black girls’ sense of self.

At the same time, these flashbacks also show glimpses of a young Black girl with dreams of wanting to dance like no one is watching. One prominent image throughout the book is young Ada drawing a Black girl dancing, who she names “Magic.” Ava’s passion for dance is shown when she remembers being awed by church dancers during a service and how she worked jobs to pay for dance lessons without telling her Dad. The image of the “magic” Black girl dancing is strong because it represents Ava’s hopes and dreams for herself.

It is these dreams that allow the reader to root for Ada as she takes the first steps toward achieving them during her freshman year of college. Like anyone at that age, Ada does make a few mistakes. She settles for a Black guy named Derek who only cares about sex because she doesn’t know she can do better. She takes an accounting course she hates because her dad wants her to. These mistakes are part of Ada’s exploration of her sexuality and her personal goals, and it is interesting to watch her stumble through things, especially since she doesn’t have many people to turn to for help.

In fact, I found myself wishing Ada had more people on her side during such a formative time. The only character who really helps Ava start to figure out what she wants is Kendra, another Black girl with an even bigger passion for dance than Ava. Kendra is delightful to read about because she has a no-nonsense, driven, and confident air about her that ends up having a positive influence on Ava. While Ava and Kendra have a memorable friendship, Ava is also shown crushing on Kendra a bit, too.

Given Ava’s upbringing, there aren’t many moments that allow Ava to explore her orientation other than some interactions with Kendra, rumors that she might “play for the other team,” and secret interactions with another girl that took place when Ava was in second grade. Given the way that heterosexuality is always implied and expected from others, it is nice to see that Kendra is even considering the possibility she might not be straight. Kendra never labels her own orientation, but it isn’t necessary for her, since she is still exploring who she is.

While Every Body Looking was mostly enjoyable, the ending fell a little flat. Without getting into spoilers, we see Ava make a few decisions for herself and for her future at the college, but we don’t clearly know what the results will be. Maybe this open-ended conclusion represents Ava finally putting herself first, even if she doesn’t know where she will end up.

All in all, Candice IIoh’s Every Body Looking dances with verse and self-expression that will surely encourage readers to keep trying for their dreams.

The Afro YA promotes black young adult authors and YA books with black characters, especially those that influence Pennington, an aspiring YA author who believes that black YA readers need diverse books, creators, and stories so that they don’t have to search for their experiences like she did.

Latonya Pennington is a poet and freelance pop culture critic. Their freelance work can also be found at PRIDE, Wear Your Voice magazine, and Black Sci-fi. As a poet, they have been published in Fiyah Lit magazine, Scribes of Nyota, and Argot magazine among others.

Photo by Anna Shvets from Pexels.

National Poetry Month Spotlight: Novels in Verse

by | Apr 21, 2021 | Book Review, grief, gun control, history, Identity, National Poetry Month, NPM 2021, Racism, Reading, Representation, The Afro YA

National Poetry Month Spotlight: Novels in Verse

April is National Poetry Month, so I wanted to celebrate it with some Black YA novels in verse.

Novels in verse are my personal favorite YA subgenre because they combine poetry with narrative storytelling to enhance the thoughts and experiences of the characters. As a teen, the first novel in verse I read by a Black author was Bronx Masquerade by Nikki Grimes, which was about a diverse poetry club at a high school in the Bronx.

Two decades after its publication in 2002, there are now a plethora of middle grade and YA novels in verse by Black authors old and new. Maybe it’s because I’m a poet, but I get excited whenever I see a new novel in verse. I love reading them and seeing different poetry forms used and experiences told. Here are some of the most compelling Black YA and middle grade novels in verse.

Legacy by Nikki Grimes

This is more of a collection of poems and visual art than a novel in verse, but I’m including this book because it’s become one of my new favorites. Using the Golden Shovel poetry form, Grimes takes one line or short poem from a Black female Harlem Renaissance poet and uses it to make her own poem. The book itself is formatted so you read the Harlem Renaissance poem first and then the poem it inspired Grimes to write. Each set of poems is also accompanied by visual art by Black women, including Vashanti Harrison and Shada Strickland. As a whole, the poetry and illustrations work together to bridge the past and present.

Catching a Storyfish by Janice N. Harrington

A novel in verse aimed at a middle school audience, this book tells the story of Keet, a young Black girl from Alabama who loves talking and tellling stories. When she moves away, she isn’t sure how to cope until a fishing trip with her grandfather teaches her how to listen before speaking. However, her grandfather suddenly has a stroke and that makes him feel further away from her. In order to reconnect with him, Keet must find her voice again through stories.

Long Way Down by Jason Reynolds

In an elevator, a teenaged Black boy named Wil is on the way down with a gun in his waistband to take revenge for his older brother, who was murdered by someone in the neighborhood. But each time the elevator stops on a new floor, Wil is visited by ghosts who make him question everything he thinks he knows about revenge and emotions. Through a true-to-life cast of characters and powerful verse, Reynolds delivers a poignant tale of gun violence through both its victims and those left behind. This book lingered in my mind long after I read it because of how skillfully Wil’s conscience is represented and questioned through the characters and words.

Solo by Kwame Alexander

Filled with both music and poetry, Solo features the tale of Blade, the son of a washed-up rock star named Rutherford. When Rutherford’s legacy threatens to overwhelm him, Blade finds a letter about his parentage that leads him to Ghana. From there, he undergoes a journey to find out who he can become outside of his father’s influence and whether he can live up to the expectations he has for his life. I really appreciated how Alexander wove together various cultural influences, such as rock music and Ghanaian culture, to shape Blade’s character development.

Every Body Looking by Candice Ihoh

A coming-of-age story starring a first-generation Nigerian American female protagonist, this book explores the impact of heavy familial expectations and the desire to break free and express your true self. When Ada attends a HBU, she finds herself following her passion for dance while exploring her sexuality. At the same time, she also comes face to face with past issues as she tries to claim ownership over her body and future. It is rare to see a YA novel set in a college space, so finding one that is also in verse is extra special.

The Afro YA promotes black young adult authors and YA books with black characters, especially those that influence Pennington, an aspiring YA author who believes that black YA readers need diverse books, creators, and stories so that they don’t have to search for their experiences like she did.

Latonya Pennington is a poet and freelance pop culture critic. Their freelance work can also be found at PRIDE, Wear Your Voice magazine, and Black Sci-fi. As a poet, they have been published in Fiyah Lit magazine, Scribes of Nyota, and Argot magazine among others.

Top photo by Trust “Tru” Katsande on Unsplash