Isabel in bloom

Mae Respicio

Book - 2024

Making friends in a new city, and new country, is hard for twelve-year-old Filipina-American Isabel, but joining the gardening and cooking club at school helps her find her way.

Saved in:

Children's Room Show me where

jFICTION/Respicio Mae
1 / 1 copies available
Location Call Number   Status
Children's Room jFICTION/Respicio Mae Checked In
Subjects
Genres
School fiction
Novels in verse
Published
New York : Wendy Lamb Books 2024.
Language
English
Main Author
Mae Respicio (author)
Edition
First edition
Physical Description
363 pages ; 22 cm
Audience
Ages 8-12.
Grades 4-6.
NP
ISBN
9780593302712
9780593302729
9780593302743
Contents unavailable.
Review by Booklist Review

Twelve-year-old Isabel "Isa" Ligaya is about to move from the Philippines to California. Her mother is balikbayan, a Filipino citizen living and working in another country, and has been in America for the past five years. She finally sends for Isa, who must leave her grandparents and their special garden. Her lolo tells her to look for something familiar in California to feel less homesick, but everything is new: new school, new food, new friends. Even her mom feels like a stranger, always busy working during the day and going to nursing school at night. Isa feels alone and out of place until she finally spots something familiar at school: a garden. Respicio's novel in verse tackles the emotional journey of sacrifice and opportunity that many new immigrants experience, as well as the plight of Filipinos living abroad to earn money. It is in good company with other novels in verse that detail the new immigrant experience through a child's eyes, such as Marilyn Hilton's Full Cicada Moon (2015) and Jasmine Warga's Other Words for Home (2019).

From Booklist, Copyright (c) American Library Association. Used with permission.
Review by Publisher's Weekly Review

Understated verse and other poetic forms shape this reassuring 1999-set story of a persevering Filipina tween adapting to a new life. Twelve-year-old Isabel Ligaya lives with her jasmine-growing grand-parents in the rural Philippines. She was seven when her mother left for lucrative domestic work in America; now, after earning a nursing degree, Mama makes plans for Isabel to move to California. Her grandfather's advice ("When things feel hard/ find the familiar./ The people/ places/ things/ that feel like/ home") and her grandmother's gift of a tiny glass bottle of soothing jasmine scent provide comfort. In San Francisco, she feels abandoned by her mother, who's busy job-seeking and apartment-hunting, and when Isabel tries befriending classmate Melissa, who is also Filipina, Melissa's friend Ashley swipes Isabel's jasmine bottle and declares the contents "gross." But soon Isabel discovers the school's neglected garden, and tending to its ailing plants, as well as frequenting a welcoming Culinary Club and Asian American Senior Center, help her establish new friendships and a sense of purpose. Respicio (How to Win a Slime War) examines themes of racism, cultural heritage, and community building by focusing on positive occurrences in Isabel's life, throughout offering solutions that model helpful next steps for readers in similar circumstances. Supporting characters are intersectionally diverse. Ages 8--12. Agent: Jennifer Laughran, Andrea Brown Literary. (Apr.)

(c) Copyright PWxyz, LLC. All rights reserved
Review by School Library Journal Review

Gr 3--7--A touching novel in verse for middle grade readers. In 1999, Isabel is happily living in the Philippines with Lolo and Lola. She enjoys gardening with her grandparents and spending time with her two best friends, but one thing is missing--her mother. Five years ago, Isabel's mother went to the United States to be a nanny in New York in hopes of making enough money for her family to have a better life. Now, it's time for Isabel to leave the Philippines to meet her mother in California. But Isabel doesn't want to leave the only home she's ever known. After a long flight, Isabel finally reunites with her mother, but everything is unfamiliar. Her mom is always busy, and Isabel misses her country, her friends, and most of all, gardening with Lolo and Lola. Even with the sadness and uncertainty Isabel feels, she eventually finds things that feel like home. Respicio's verse is powerful and will elicit a wide range of emotions in readers, especially those who have lived through something similar. She poetically incorporates the experiences and feelings immigrants may have when moving to a new country. Readers will relate to or learn a lot about Filipino culture. An author's note with further information is included. VERDICT A solid addition to libraries serving tweens.--Lisa Buffi

(c) Copyright Library Journals LLC, a wholly owned subsidiary of Media Source, Inc. No redistribution permitted.
Review by Horn Book Review

In this verse novel set in 1999, twelve-year-old Isabel Ligaya leaves her home in the Philippines to reunite with her mother in California. Mama immigrated to the U.S. five years ago to work as a nanny, and Isabel is eager to see her but nervous about leaving her grandparents, her friends, and her beloved sampaguita (jasmine) plant. Having grown up with grandparents who sell vegetables at the market, Isabel is familiar with tending a garden, but the transition to growing a life in the U.S. has challenges. She's self-conscious about her accent, finds making new friends daunting, and is disappointed that Mama spends most of her time looking for a job. Over the course of a year, Isabel discovers what can grow when one nourishes a seed with tenacity, love, and friendship. Respicio conveys Isabel's experience mostly through accessible free verse and narrative poetry, and includes acrostic, haiku, palindrome, tanaga (an indigenous form of Filipino poetry), and concrete poems. The novel brings light to unconventional family structures and hate crimes against Asian Americans elders. An author's note discusses the poetic forms and imagery, as well as the experiences of Asian Americans today. Gabi Kim HuescaJuly/August 2024 p.139 (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

A tween girl finds ways to connect her old life in the Philippines to her new life in America. It's 1999, and 12-year-old Isabel Ligaya is leaving the one home she's ever known to live in San Francisco. She's excited but nervous to be reunited with Mama, who moved to the U.S. five years ago for work, hoping to provide better lives for Isabel and her grandparents. San Francisco couldn't be more different from the gardens and greenery she's used to. Feeling like she doesn't belong in this strange place with a mom she barely knows, Isabel searches for "the people / places / things / that feel like / home," just like Lolo, her grandfather, told her to. She finds solace in her school's forgotten garden, makes friends in the culinary club, and learns to grow and bloom in her new environment. Told in verse, this is a charming story of growth, family, friends, community, and finding connections between old and new. Isabel's thoughts, her intense and sometimes conflicting feelings about immigrating, and her changing relationship with her mother are beautifully expressed and relatable. Sprinkled throughout the text are details about Filipino American history and Filipino culture, language, and diaspora experiences. While most of the book is written in free verse, readers are also introduced to other poetic forms, such as acrostic and concrete poetry. Heartfelt and moving. (author's note) (Verse fiction. 8-12) Copyright (c) Kirkus Reviews, used with permission.

Copyright (c) Kirkus Reviews, used with permission.

Home I walk with my grandfather through a thousand shades of green plants dressed in dew flowers flooded in light as birds fill the trees with their wild loud songs. Our garden comes alive in mornings. Lolo drags a hose the water trickling slow. We pause at a planter of Jasmine Sampaguita. Weeks ago when I found out I'd have to say goodbye he made me plant it So when you return you'll see how it's grown, he said. Jasmine Sampaguita takes up most of this space. Rows of shrubs like fences small white flowers perfuming the air with their sweet lush musk. But we hover over mine concerned leaves wilted brittle brown stems. No blossoms here. I crouch down. What's wrong, little Jazzy? I ask, almost expecting a reply. Plants respond to humans our voice, our love. It's why I name and talk to some of ours: Elvis Parsley and Vincent van Grow, my favorite, the Spice Girls (a cluster of herbs named after a music group my friends and I dance to when we play our CDs). Should I have grown it in the ground? Or in a different pot? Or . . . something? I ask my grandfather. I don't know what to do. You should trust. It's just a little thirsty. Jasmine Sampaguita has gifted my family our livelihood by learning the art of growing and selling. Its blooms are our survival. I know its petals soft and white. I know its smell without it near but I don't know why this one looks how I feel --­homesick heartsick--­ when I haven't even left for California yet. I sigh. Feeling nervous for your trip, Isabel? If I don't like it there, can I come home? To my surprise he nods. But only for visits. Tricked! Lolo raises my chin so our eyes meet. Sumpa kita sounds like sampaguita. It stands for I promise you. And I promise you will do fine in your new home. He lays the hose slips it a drip saying something I've already heard many times, my whole life. We bloom where we are planted. Don't Want to Say It Goodbyes look like summer in my small town green hills and rice fields my best friends and I strolling toward home. Goodbyes sound like chattering about school and friends how next year we all turn thirteen --­though they'll be here and I'll be elsewhere. Goodbyes taste like tart calamansi from Lolo's tree round, small, and green that Lola's slicing and squeezing into drinks for me, Cristina, and Rosamie. Ice clinks glasses sweat we take slow sips and our lips pucker from the sweet and the sour. Goodbyes smell like sampaguita flowers Lola's picked and strung piled high on the table in soft pearly mounds. Bye, Lola! See you tomorrow, Isabel! my friends say. Lola waves back and drapes a single jasmine garland around my neck the way she does with each fresh batch. Goodbye is Lola's sad smile the waning sun that citrus still on my tongue these white blooms near my heart her warm hand on my cheek knowing how much I already hate saying goodbye. Me, Isabel Ligaya, Age Twelve I've never lived in a city I've never seen snow I've never been rich I've never had a mother take me to a mall. I've never left the Philippines or ridden in an airplane or wanted to make new best friends because I love the ones I already have. Excerpted from Isabel in Bloom by Mae Respicio All rights reserved by the original copyright owners. Excerpts are provided for display purposes only and may not be reproduced, reprinted or distributed without the written permission of the publisher.