Review by Booklist Review
In a heartbreakingly important picture book, award-winning author Williams explores a boy's desire to grow up against the backdrop of his parents' concern over one day giving him "The Talk" that Black parents have to have with their children. Perfectly juxtaposing the Black Boy Joy of running, hanging out with friends and grandparents, and play-driving cars with the realities of racism and prejudice, Williams and debut illustrator Uchendu offer a book that thoughtfully addresses an all-too-common topic. This book does not easily fit into an age range--the prose is conversational and light, but as the protagonist grows throughout the pages, older readers will still feel represented and invested in the story. Read this with younger readers who may not have had the Talk yet, or read it with older kids to discuss what it was like before the Talk. The warm illustrations hint at the racism the protagonist experiences but more prominently capture the love he feels in his home, and the focus on characters over setting allows for Williams' words to soar.
From Booklist, Copyright (c) American Library Association. Used with permission.
Review by Publisher's Weekly Review
Williams (Jump at the Sun) writes tenderly about a playful, athletic Black boy named Jay who's growing like a weed at the speed of light. When he becomes too big to be little and too lean to have "chub in my cheeks," his family gives him variations of The Talk. As Jay spends time playing with best friends, all portrayed with brown skin, they're advised to no longer gather in groups. "Grandpa says, I believe y'all could be the next/ Thurgood Marshall, Elijah McCoy, and Bessie Coleman.// But some folks might think you're the next troublemaker." Whether he's visiting a store or walking down the street in a new hoodie, Jay's relatives offer tips for how he might survive an anti-Black world, sure to tell him that "I'm not to blame" and that "I'm the beat of their hearts; the joy in their smiles." This portrayal of a close-knit family and Jay's Black kid joy is as warmhearted as it is resolute, while digitally rendered illustrations by debut artist Uchendu depict desaturated instances of racial prejudice as well as brightly hopeful portraits of Black luminaries, providing an emotive realism to Jay's maturation and his family's greatest fears and dreams. Ages 4--8. Author's agent: Brenda Bowen, Book Group. Illustrator's agent: Jessica Saint Jean, Jill Grinberg Literary Management. (Oct.)
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Review by Horn Book Review
In this effective and affecting introduction to race relations and police brutality in America, Jay is a young boy who loves racing up and down the block with his friends. He also loves his family: his grandpa, who tells him about all the amazing runners of the past, like Wilma Rudolph and Jesse Owens; his nana, who pinches his cheeks (even though he pretends not to enjoy it); his father, who lets him "drive" in their parking space; and his mother, who continually checks his height against his bedroom wall. Mom and Nana seem concerned when he grows a few inches, though, and Grandpa and Dad begin to add instructions to his innocent activities. Jay is advised to keep his hands out of his pockets; not to gather with peers in groups of more than four; to be cautious while he's in a car. These instructions finally lead to Jay's family sitting him down for "the talk." They tell Jay that while his actions may be scrutinized unfairly by others because of his skin color, he will always have a community of family and friends that love him and that it's not his fault. Jay's innocence is a constant throughout the story, with the digital illustrations providing much of the context. As Jay's mother frets over his height, we see her glance at a television news story involving a person of color and the police. A trip to the store with friends is monitored with suspicion by a frowning white couple. Jay's commitment to remaining a happy child is a welcome element in this exploration of an all-too-relatable experience with no easy answers. Eboni NjokuJanuary/February 2023 p.71 (c) Copyright The Horn Book, Inc., a wholly owned subsidiary of Media Source, Inc. No redistribution permitted.
(c) Copyright The Horn Book, Inc., a wholly owned subsidiary of Media Source, Inc. No redistribution permitted.
Review by Kirkus Book Review
As Jay moves from childhood to preadolescence, loving adults prepare him for what that means for him as a Black boy. Jay, who loves superheroes and racing his friends, is thrilled that he's grown two inches--he's no longer a "shrimp." But Mom hugs him sadly, looking over his head at the news, and says, "They won't see you as a young boy anymore, either." And when Jay and his friends skateboard up the street, they get indignant looks from White passersby. Grandpa tells them not to gather in groups of four or more, Mom instructs Jay how to behave in stores, and Dad tells him how to act when pulled over by police. When Jay starts to leave the house in his hoodie and earphones, his parents call him back in for a talk, depicted in a wordless spread of shadowy vignettes showing scenes of the struggles young Black people face--being stopped by police or treated with hostility by White people. After, Jay's parents and grandparents envelop him in a loving embrace, assuring him that he has done nothing wrong. Williams' narration is shaped by a convincing, youthful first-person voice, and Uchendu's powerful art conveys both the joyful energy of childhood and the pain of adults who can't shield children from a racist world. (This book was reviewed digitally.) A loving approach to sharing painful realities with children, this book strikes a chord. (Picture book. 5-10) Copyright (c) Kirkus Reviews, used with permission.
Copyright (c) Kirkus Reviews, used with permission.
