"Patterson Heights" by Felicia Pride

Avery Washington is a good kid. Living in Baltimore's inner city, he is part of a gifted program at school, goes to church on Sundays, idolizes his older brother, Rashid, and has two parents who have scraped and saved to start a college fund for the boys. Avery's life changes in an instant, when his brother is killed by a senseless act. It is a story oft-told about young black men in the city, and we rarely get an inside look into the realities of what life is like in the months following such an event. Echoing both "Speak" by Laurie Halse Anderson and "The Year Without Michael" by Susan Beth Pfeffer, the grief here is palpable. Avery goes silent. Unable to speak through his sadness, his thoughts and insights border on the poetic. His strong family falls apart and he finds himself living like a shadow in a small apartment with a mother and father who are as distant as strangers. While he doesn't realize it initially, he is lucky. People come into his life who end up being different kinds of supports at this difficult time. The writing is strong and the character compelling. You truly want Avery to find his way back from the gloom. However ... this is a very different world, complete with a different vocabulary. In many books of this kind, the author tries to give the reader context to understand what they are reading. In Walter Dean Myer's "145th Street," for example, the language is true to the setting, but he creates narrators or contexts that allow the reader to enter into that world. That is not the case here. In many ways, it feels like this book, part of the "Kimani Tru" series, is written solely for inner city kids. I'm not sure how I feel about that. I mean, last month I read about a teenage girl who discovers, in Nigeria, that she is part of the "Leopard People." It was a completely alien civilization, but the author provided enough context for me to get it. Here was a story about good old America, and yet, I felt that some of the language and sociology being portrayed was shutting me out, that I was unwelcome as a reader because I didn't fit the demographics the series shoots for. This, of course, is my take. It would be interesting to see if my students feel the same. My only other beef is with the cover art, which makes Avery look like some hot 20 something, instead of the slightly geeky 15 year-old he actually is. Never a fan of misleading folks with cover art. Despite the complaints, the story is compelling and the emotion real. It's worth a read, even if you don't get all the references.