Coming home from middle school always entailed the same routine for me. Walk home from the bus stop, eat a quick snack, and grind as much homework as I can before having to change into a leotard and tights. Slicking my hair back into a brain-aching ballet bun was nothing new for thirteen-year-old me. Dance classes typically took up 2-4 hours of my night during the week, and while I loved it, this routine was often exhausting and left me scrambling to finish homework until well past midnight. High school was nothing different, and neither was college. Dance was a staple part of my adolescent years and has truly grown to become something that I cannot imagine my life without.

I have been an avid dancer from fifth grade until the present day where I still dance in a college dance ensemble. From ballet to ballroom, I was involved in many different dance styles which kept my mind and body busy throughout my young adult years. As I grew up, dance was always my one constant. When the world around me was changing—and even when I was changing myself—I always had dance to rely on. We grew up together.

Dancing always offered me a sense of freedom and emotional release that I craved during my young adult years. It gave me power and control over my own body, and simply just made me feel good to do it. While I have so much to thank my dance classes for, dancing was not always a positive experience. Growing up in dance studios conditioned me to be competitive, always comparing myself to others on the dance floor. As a young girl growing up and still trying to become comfortable in my body, dance put unnecessary pressure on my shoulders. 

​These experiences of growing up as a dancer are not just specific to me. The books A Time to Dance by Padma Venkatraman and Every Body Looking by Candice Iloh provide perspectives on dance as a theme through young adult literature and in young adult lives. In A Time to Dance, Veda, a young Bharatanatyam dancer, suffers a tragic accident that leads to the amputation of her right leg. Now, with a prosthetic limb, Veda relearns how to dance and gains a new perspective on the meaning of dance as a whole. In Every Body Looking, Ada experiences family pressures, social anxieties, and sexual abuse. When she enters college she joins a dance class and falls in love with how the movement frees her of her troubles. 

Both of these stories are also written in poetic verse, which was a very interesting coincidence to me as I was reading. The choice to write these stories in poetic verse demonstrates how dance, like poetry, is a form of art. Introducing young adults to art instills in them a value of creativity and expression, which can encourage healthy mental habits and an appreciation for artistry in life.
​
In both A Time to Dance and Every Body Looking, dance serves as an outlet of expression for these young girls as they grow up and learn about who they are. It also showcases the competitive side of dance and how easy it is to get overtaken by the need to win. These novels demonstrate how dance serves as a theme in young adult lives and provides a sense of purpose, control, and freedom to whoever is experiencing it. 

A staple aspect of growing up in one’s young adult years is the bodily changes experienced. During these ages, bodies are growing and changing and it is only natural to feel awkward in one’s skin. As I experienced these changes while growing up as a dancer, I was grateful to dance for giving me a sense of control over my body when everything else felt uncontrollable. Rather than feeling awkward as my body grew into itself, I felt confident in my ability to move with ease and grace. Even on the days when I felt insecure, dancing always reminded me that I was strong.
​
In A Time to Dance, Veda echos these same sentiments, and often mentions how dancing is a way of “celebrating [her] strong, skilled body // the center and source of [her] joy // the one thing [she] can count on // the one thing that never fails [her]” (Venkatraman 13). Similar to myself, Veda used dance as a source of strength, confidence, and joy during her adolescent years. Veda depends on her body in difficult times and trusts it to guide her in doing the thing that she loves the most. 

 After her leg amputation, Veda is faced with insecurities, doubt, and dislike of her own body, but dancing reminds her that she “can dance beauty into [her] body” (Venkatraman 25). Even when Veda does not feel like herself after losing her leg, dance proves to her that her body is still capable of accomplishing beautiful things. This gives Veda value and appreciation for her body during her young adult years, something that is very important for young adults to have as their bodies are growing and changing. It is very common for middle and high schoolers to be self-conscious of their bodies and the way that they look, but growing up with dance serves as a reminder that our bodies are strong, beautiful, and capable.

In Every Body Looking, Ada experiences a similar value for her body through dance. When she was younger, Ada was the victim of sexual assault from her cousin. Ever since this traumatic incident, her body has never felt like her own. Even when entering college, she still experienced flashbacks from the assault that made her feel like she did not have control over her body. It was only when she got involved in dance classes that she felt power and ownership of being in her own skin.

Ada says: “he will not understand the way I feel // Every time I get to dance // Is the opposite of it all // That when I tell my body to move // It can //When I tell my body to feel // It can // When I tell my body to stretch // It can // When I tell my body to try // It can // And every time // I go a little further // And every time // I learn my body is mine // And every time // I learn my body’s wishes // Are my command” (Iloh 32). Through dance, Ada is finally feeling joy and control over her body rather than the violation and shame that she has felt previously. Like Veda, dance helps Ada to reclaim her body as her own. Dance lets Ada become confident and proud of herself and the ways that she is using her body. It helps her to heal from her sexual assault and regain mastery of her own body.

Both Veda and Ada’s young adult journies are guided by dance to help them feel a sense of control and confidence over their bodies, which is a very important feeling to accomplish during the awkwardness and insecurities of young adult years. Veda expresses that when she dances, her “body // feels // whole,” which is a sentiment that both Ada, myself, and fellow dancers everywhere can relate to (Venkatraman 294). 

Along with feeling control over one’s body, dance serves as an emotional outlet within young adult lives. For middle and high-school-aged kids, emotions are everything. They are big, powerful, unavoidable, and oftentimes overwhelming. It can be difficult for young adults of this age to cope with their emotions healthily, especially if they aren’t exactly sure of what they are feeling themselves.
​
Dance is a phenomenal emotional outlet for many reasons, but specifically because it does not require talking. In dance, one can simply open themselves up to the music and let their body express what they don’t know how to discuss.
For me, dance classes always provided an outlet to release any negative emotions and turn them into a beautiful form of art through movement. I utilized dance’s healing powers outside of the studio, too. At home, if I was ever in a funk or feeling down, I would go to my basement and improv to music. No one was watching, and a safe space was created between my emotions and dance. This became my go-to method for feeling better. Even on the days when I felt off for no apparent reason, dance always gave me a solution to the problems I couldn’t define. This outlet served especially useful to me when my young adult years were forever altered due to the coronavirus pandemic. Locked away in my house with no face-to-face contact with my friends, dance always helped me reconnect with myself and reminded me of the little joys in life during a time when I felt defeated.

Like myself, Ada uses this same method of release when she needs an emotional outlet. Ada expresses that “sometimes when I’m alone / I’m on a stage… and I am perfect for the beat / my arms fling up and so does my body / I leap like I know this / I move like I’m seen” (Iloh 118). When she is alone, Ada uses dance as a form of therapy to release her emotions. In this way, dance provides a satisfying feeling of renewal, erasing all other emotions in the moment and preserving the art of dancing as sacred.

The therapeutic release of dance teaches young dancers that “dance isn’t about who you are on the outside. // It’s about how you feel inside” (Venkatraman 293). Putting emotion into dance is what makes it artful. In A Time to Dance, Govinda, one of Veda’s dance teachers, tells her that dancing makes him  “feel I’m in the presence of something // large and good. // It doesn’t give me answers. But I don’t need them. // For me that feeling // of wonder, of awe, of mystery, // of being in touch with something larger, // is as close as God comes” (Venkatraman 239-240). For Govinda and many other dancers across the world, dance is a spiritual activity. The art of dancing transcends past physicality and reaches a divine level; providing a cathartic feeling to dancers that is difficult to replicate through any other activity.

In young adult lives, dance is especially important in teaching the value of art. Art and expression are so important for young adults to be exposed to because they instill a value for creativity and expression. By engaging in art, young adults have an outlet to deal with overwhelming feelings while also learning about their passions and interests. Ada, Veda, and I all have dance to thank for giving us a much-needed escape from our real-life troubles during our young adult years. 

While dance provides so many benefits for young adults—such as control over one’s body and emotional expression—dance is not always the positive influence that many people would expect. Growing up as a dancer typically means that you are attending dance competitions as well. These competitions are no joke, as anyone who has watched “Dance Moms” can attest to. They usually come with hours of late-night practices, drilling every dance over again until the routine is perfected. While some dancers live for the competitive aspect, others suffer from the pressure it places on their shoulders. Unfortunately, it is very easy to get sucked into the competitive side of dancing and lose sight of the beauty behind it.
​
In A Time to Dance, Veda recognizes that she has lost the true meaning of dance. She admits that when she was younger, she “could hear music to dance to. // When [she] grew up that music grew fainter // and [she] started to love applause” (Venkatraman 136). For Veda, dance became solely about competitions, winning, and feeling pride from applause rather than about dancing itself. At the young adult age, minds are easily influenced and are susceptible to pressure. Dance competitions can condition young adults to value competition over the art of dance. Govinda tells Veda that he thinks she “should // care more about entering people’s hearts //  and elevating their souls // than about entertaining their minds” (Venkatraman 172). This proves how dance can cause young adults to become selfish. Veda is focused on winning and being praised rather than using dance as its art form.

Ada witnesses something similar at college. While scoping out the dance studios, she sees a girl dancing by herself. Her movement is beautiful until she stumbles and all of a sudden screams “NO // DO IT AGAIN” (Iloh 127). This demonstrates how dance instills a value of perfection among young adults. Perfection is impossible to reach, especially for young adults still figuring out their own lives and identities. In this way, dance can be unhealthy for growing adolescents by making them feel valued only if they are perfect.

This perfectionist mentality does not only exist in the fictional dance world. My fellow dancers from the Fairfield University Dance Ensemble shared how the high intensities of their hometown studios became too much for them.
Kelly (19) shares that competitive dance “added a whole new level of stress” to her life as a middle and high schooler. She elaborates that “there’s a very fine line of intensity that determines whether or not [dancing] is fun, because you lose focus on the fun parts of dance and only focus on winning.” Like Veda, Kelly also became consumed with winning and lost the initial reason why she started dancing; simply because she loves it.

This over-the-top competitiveness affects other aspects of a young adult’s life outside of dancing, too. A competitive nature can make a young adult feel as though everything they do has to be perfect. This leaves no leeway for failure. As young adults, you are supposed to fail and get hurt so that you can learn and grow. The competitive aspect of dance can teach young adults that they always need to be the best at whatever they do, which is a very unhealthy and unrealistic mindset to have. This can lead to unnecessary stress and anxiety over aspects of life that are supposed to be normal for teenage growth.

Another dancer, Paxton (19) shares that “when [she] was little [she] was so carefree, but now [she has] crippling anxiety” that she credits to her competitive dance studio. She elaborates “I never did [dance competitions] for myself, I always did it for my parents and my studio director.” After many years in this toxic cycle, Paxton said that “it built up a whole cycle of anxiety” in her life, and that she “couldn’t do it anymore—it was too much pressure.”

Both Paxton and Kelly’s experiences as young adult dancers demonstrate the toxic mentalities that dance can inflict upon adolescents. Even though I loved dancing throughout my young adult life, I was not exempt from these negative mentalities. Starting dance at age ten and continuing ever since meant that I was enrolled in dance classes throughout my adolescent development. While dance provided a needed emotional outlet during this stage in my life, it also conditioned my developing mind to compare myself to others constantly. As a young adult, this was a very unhealthy mental habit. From dance abilities to body image, this habit of comparison was engrained in me at a young age and is still something that affects me today, even eleven years later. 

​Dance in young adult lives is not something specific to those enrolled in dance classes. At one point or another, every young adult is exposed to dance through school dances. In young adult literature, movies, and television shows, school dance scenes are used to portray the peak of youth awkwardness, hormones, and nerves. School dances are always when the guy tries to get the girl, or the main character is anxious over having to dance in front of their entire school. For adolescents, school dances can feel like the biggest and most important events of their young adult lives. Even though these characters are not necessarily dancers, the theme of dance is still very present. In stories like A Brief Moment in the Life of Angus Bethune and Simon Vs. the Homo Sapiens Agenda, school dances are used to highlight emotions that are present in all young adults. 

In A Brief Moment in the Life of Angus Bethune by Chris Crutcher, the main character Angus deals with constant bullying for being overweight and having gay parents. As the brunt of a mean joke by his peers, Angus gets nominated for Senior Winter Ball King, meaning that he has to dance in front of his whole class. Not only does he have to dance, but he has to dance with Melissa Lefevre, the Senior Winter Ball Queen, whom he has had a crush on since kindergarten. Angus’ main issue with this isn’t the joke made at his expense, but rather his inability to dance. He stresses over his “bankrupt sense of rhythm” and even spends “hard-earned money on dance lessons” to try and ease his embarrassment (Crutcher 11). Like any other high school student, Angus’ insecurities and nerves are heightened by the pressure of the impending school dance. Doing something out of his comfort zone in front of all his peers leaves Angus feeling vulnerable. These nerves are characteristic in many high school students who don’t know how to dance, adding even more anxiety to an already nerve-wracking event.

Simon Vs. the Homo Sapiens Agenda by Becky Albertalli displays a similar theme of school dances bringing out peak teenage emotions. Simon, a closeted high school student, is being blackmailed by his peer, Martin, who is threatening to expose Simon’s private emails which reveal his sexuality to the student body. In exchange for not exposing these emails, Martin wants Simon to set him up with Simon’s best friend, Abby. Despite Simon’s efforts, Abby can not be convinced to like Martin.

When Abby refuses Martin’s invitation to the school dance, he lashes out at Simon. He approaches Simon and blames him for Abby’s rejection, angrily telling him “she fucking rejected me” (Albertalli 142). Out of anger and humiliation, Martin reveals that Simon is gay on their school’s anonymous blog site. For Martin, taking Abby to the school dance was the only thing his mind was fixated on, and he did not care about hurting Simon as collateral damage. Like adolescent emotions in real life, Martin puts so much pressure on the school dance to help him get the girl he has been crushing on. When this goes wrong, Martin’s reaction is extreme because it ruins his adolescent vision of having the perfect school dance with his crush. For Martin and young adults in real life, school dances can feel like the make-or-break moment of their high school careers.
​
Even for non-dancers, like Angus and Martin, dance still serves as a very prevalent theme in young adult literature and young adult lives. Through school dance scenes in young adult literature, adolescent emotions, nerves, romantic lives, and insecurities are showcased. Reflecting real life, these school dance scenes demonstrate the pinnacle of the teenage experience; encapsulating all of the awkward and embarrassing teenage emotions into one night of dancing in a school gymnasium. 

​For dancers and non-dancers alike, dance serves as a theme throughout young adult literature to highlight the growth, mentality, expression, and emotions of adolescent years. Veda and Ada used dance as a way to feel control over their bodies and have an emotional outlet. Along with this, they were both affected by the competitive aspect that dance brings, instilling a drive for perfection among young dancers. Angus and Simon both witnessed how school dances can increase emotions and nerves among high school students. Veda’s perfect dancing to the rhythm and Angus's off-beat clapping in preparation for the Winter Ball show the duality of dance in adolescent lives and the impact of dance on the teenage experience. Whether dance is a source of catharsis or an anxiety trigger, the theme of dance is very present in all young adult lives. 

​Albertalli, Becky. Simon vs. the Homo Sapiens Agenda. New York City, HarperCollins Publishers, 2015.
Crutcher, Chris. Angus Bethune, In “Athletic Shorts - Six Short Stories”. Greenwillow Press, 2002.   
Iloh, Candice. Every Body Looking. New York City, Penguin Random House, 2020.
Venkatraman, Padma. A Time to Dance. New York City, Penguin Random House, 2014. 

During Earth Month, I am reminded of the climate crossroads at which we find ourselves. Many books I’ve reviewed in the past year on YA Wednesday have been dystopian YA or climate fiction (cli-fi). One of the assertions I’ve underscored was borrowed from Margaret Atwood’s statement about sci-fi: dystopian stories are not about the future but about now. Should we continue on this path, we will surely realize the dystopian worlds of stories like The Parable of the Sower, The Marrow Thieves, and Feed. But hope is the essence of dystopian storytelling. They remind us that none of this has happened…yet. On this note, I found hopeful books that center storytelling- such as The Last Cuentista. In the oral history tradition, the storyteller starts from inherited narratives and weaves in new stories, places, and people. Telling stories is climate action. That’s powerful stuff when we feel the dark shadow of climate anxiety closing in on us.

So, these are the questions I’ve been asking of the stories and themes that answer them: What do we choose when we have little power over anything else? A family. And where do we go when there’s nowhere left on Earth? Space. But what would it be like to leave Earth for other planets and live in space? (extra)Ordinary.
 
This post explores the graphic novel On a Sunbeam through themes that have surfaced in my work on dystopian climate fiction (cli-fi) as ironically hopeful. It is a story about two high school girls, Mia and Grace, who fall in love and are separated. The major plot line is Mia’s quest to find Grace. However, equal attention is paid to the supporting cast because it is also a story about a family that has been found. Mia ends up with a restoration crew that travels from planet to planet to restore ruins. The story begins in the present, with Mia as the new crew member, and follows her as she cultivates relationships with her new co-workers to the point that they become family. In the process, we are invited to reflect deeply on what it means to be a family. What sacrifices are we willing to make?
 
Flashbacks create a parallel story where we learn about Grace, Mia’s first and now lost love. The two stories careen toward an intersecting point in the present, where Mia decides to find Grace again. This is where the found family is tested and rises to the challenge. It’s a beautifully told and illustrated story about relationships. 

​Back to Earth
I picked up On a Sunbeam because of the comic in the series and the book ​Station Eleven. In Station Eleven, an acting troupe called The Traveling Symphony performs Shakespeare in a post-apocalyptic world decimated by a pandemic. This troupe is the family that the protagonist, Kirsten, has found. But I couldn’t stop thinking about the book within the book. A shadowy character, The Prophet, and the children who follow him take as their new bible a comic or graphic novel about a space colony: Station Eleven.
 
This comic inspired me to take up a thematic thread I’ve been following through dystopian YA under the umbrella of climate futurism or possible futures for life on our planet. It seems space is featured in many books I’ve read or figures large in the characters' imagination. Readers and teachers may find that starting over, choosing family, and ultimately “just” living are great starting points for exploring space in YA cli fi. These stories complement each other.

Found Family
Following characters into outer space or learning about how space figures in their imagination has me thinking about how stories can connect us to home or help us make a new one. Stories can also help us build relationships to form and fortify our found family.
 
The found family trope can be defined simply as the family of choice. In a recent ALA blog, Estefanía Vélez notes:

The “Family of Choice” trope refers to a device in literature and media where a group of characters find themselves united in a family-bond based on shared experiences, mutual understanding, and interpersonal connection. These arrangements often bring familial love they may have otherwise missed into their lives. Rather than the blood ties that may dictate some biological families, found family stories emphasize the connections and communities we choose for ourselves. These narratives are often especially resonant for members of disenfranchised communities, such as those in the LGBTQ+ community, who keenly understand that unconditional love comes in all forms, and so do families.​

It’s easy to see why this trope resonates with young people, especially those from historically marginalized groups. There is agency in choosing family… and also safety, affirmation, and a deep sense of purpose from a “family-bond.” Many YA novels I’ve written about in YA Wednesday include found family tropes: The Marrow Thieves, The Last Cuentista, and The Parable of the Sower, for example. 

In On a Sunbeam, Mia finds family. Throughout the book, readers learn what it means to be family and how a found family comes to be. The characters in the book are accepting and place enormous importance on showing each other respect. For example, when an outsider arrives, a temporary supervisor named Jo, members of the group are careful to share relational information, as they did when Mia was new. They share Ell’s pronouns and normalize their refusal to speak. The found family will also draw a line– they are just as quick to exclude those negligent or disrespectful to anyone in the family, such as when Jules defended the group’s decision to leave Jo behind. Jules’ defense of Ell explains their reasons:

​Jules:  ...And we TOLD you, we told you that Ell didn't talk, we told you their pronouns. And you IGNORED us.

Jo: I don’t need to know that stuff. This is a job. None of that is important.

Jules: No. No way. You don’t get to decide that. You don’t get to decide what’s important for us. You can choose for yourself, but no one else.
​
All: Fuck yeah, Jules.

Belonging, affinity, and support are qualities of a found family that happen anywhere we find them—even in space.

​New Home, Old Ideas
In Station Eleven, old but persistent mindsets are from “The Before.” Survivors in many communities go to great lengths to resist ideas that no longer serve humanity. The tragedy of the pandemic is an opportunity to start over. Old ideas surface in On a Sunbeam that still threaten colonized planets in space in the same ways they threaten us now.
 
One current challenge in dystopian literature is a worldview that centers on an extraction mindset, or a belief that the natural world consists of resources to be extracted to generate goods or to be used up. In On a Sunbeam, colonizing space means that the old ideas that forced humans to look to the stars as a means of escape have followed them. The book includes many examples of conflicting views about protecting environments on other planets and extracting or exploiting their resources and more-than-human beings. The excerpt or panels from the book show an example of the conflicts between communities that protect and those that seek to exploit (Walden, 2018, pp. 316-317). There are also examples of creatures revered by cultures on distant planets. Reading Braiding Sweetgrass alongside On a Sunbeam surfaces subthemes like respect and reciprocity (see Image 2). It asks us to seek the right way to live in relationship with more-than-human beings. We can and must choose different stories: “The stories we choose shape our behaviors and have adaptive consequences” (Kimmerer). 

​The (extra)Ordinariness of Space
I am reminded of Odum, one of the so-called forefathers of ecology who compared planet Earth to a self-sustaining spaceship- reminding us of the complex life systems we have yet to replicate successfully. In space, we are still very much dependent on the resources and support from our home planet. Surely, there have been advances, but he talked about Earth as life-support so complex that we can’t venture too far without it, like an umbilical cord. Space travel, colonizing other planets, is an extraordinary accomplishment. Yet, one of the big takeaways of On a Sunbeam is that “ordinary” human lives happen everywhere–even in space. Astrophysics reminds us that we are made of the same stuff as stars. In On a Sunbeam, the drama of space travel and planetary colonization is juxtaposed with “small” dramas like high school bullies, love and loss, dreams deferred, and resistance to school or work. In other words, our lives are both miraculous and banal at the same time, even in space. 

Parting Pairings
Station Eleven compelled me to explore stories about space and would be an obvious pairing with On a Sunbeam. The story within the story of the distant space station will share some parallels with On a Sunbeam. Found family is a thread in all three. We need each other to survive.
 
For those who want to follow the dystopian thread, the books I’ve written about before are great starting points: The Parable of the Sower, The Marrow Thieves, and Feed would all bring out found family themes but also amplify others, such as extractivist mindset, the perils of capitalism, the importance of place, and the power of narrative inheritance (the former) and what happens when stories are gone (the latter).
 
If you want to re-story and focus on place, including new places in outer space, The Last Cuentista and Braiding Sweetgrass for Adolescents would help us consider how stories “have adaptive consequences” (Kimmerer). How do the characters in On a Sunbeam use stories? The children’s book Remember, based on Joy Harjo’s poem, reminds us that we are part of the universe and connected to everything. Other books help us connect to the imagination, such as See You in the Cosmos (Jack Cheng) and We Dream of Space (Erin Entrada Kelly, a middle-grade novel).
 
Interested in Space Travel? Neil deGrasse Tyson’s YA book Astrophysics for Young People in a Hurry, illustrated by Gregory Mone, would be a fun way to remind ourselves that we are part of the universe and that it is full of wonder and still beautifully ordinary at the same time.

A new week and a new post. For my money, one of the great readers of YA Literature is Margaret Robbins. For all of the years I have known her, she is always reading and exploring something new. Every time Margaret writes for the blog I learn something. We are pleased to have Margaret back with us to discuss "Romantasy" with us. 

Daughter of the Pirate King and Daughter of the Siren Queen by Tricia Levenseller: Both of these books are about the same protagonist, and they are so much fun! Alosa’s father is a Pirate King, and her mother is a Siren Queen and a master seductress, so our main character has some complicated loyalties! Yet she is a strong and capable pirate who eventually becomes the captain of her own ship, and she develops feelings for the first mate Riden! Romance isn’t the primary focus of this book, and in a refreshing way, but there’s enough there to make it an interesting plot twist. There’s also mystery and the occasional pirate missions. I haven’t yet read the third book set in this universe, but with a different protagonist, Vengeance of the Pirate Queen. However, I’ve lent it to two students already who fell in love with the first two books! I am not sure I’d feel comfortable recommending these books to 6th graders, but I think they are appropriate for older middle school and high school students.  ​

​I began my Classroom Practice session at last month’s YAL Summit with this prompt. It created a structure for exploring books and compiling a text set consisting of books that could be used to design a course on environmental action; or a club with that theme; or maybe even an outline for a school or district-wide plan to implement their commitment to sustainability. I’ll share some of the categories we explored, and I hope that you’ll add your ideas and book recommendations in the comments. 

Another book dealing with what we might consider unusual food sources is Diet for a Changing Climate: Food for Thought, by Christy Mihaly and Sue Heavenrich. The chapter titles might seem a bit intimidating: “Eat the Pushy Invasive Plants,” “Bugs for Lunch,” Crickets Are the Gateway Bug,” and “Rustle Up Some Grubs.” But the authors provide rationales for broadening our view of what is good to eat and assure us that it is possible to change our attitudes and tastes. The graphic novel Meal, by Blue Delliquanti, features a narrator who earned certification at a culinary school in the area of entomophagy. Yarrow is interviewing for a restaurant job, and must prepare a taco with specialty ingredients such as ant larvae, tarantulas, mealworms, and grasshoppers. Both these books offer recipes.    

Memoirs by scientists contain inspiring stories about how the authors came to love nature and how they continue to care for plants and animals. Geobiologist Hope Jahren’s Lab Girl is a personal account of the author’s environmental work in both lab and field. Readers will be eager to continue to learn from her in The Story of More: How We Got to Climate Change and Where to Go from Here. Her mantra is simple: “Use Less and Share More” (p. 88). In the appendix, “The Story of Less,” Jahren describes many small changes we can make to reduce our energy consumption, as well as to travel, spend money, and eat in ways that better the waters and atmosphere. She believes in our ultimate success.

We want our students to honor the memory of the influential scientist and environmental writer Rachel Carson. Though she died just two years after publishing Silent Spring, her legacy continues as readers  embrace her writings, including the 40th Anniversary edition of Silent Spring, as well as biographies of Rachel Carson and works by today’s environmental scientists who connect their work with hers. And–breaking news– a previously unpublished text by Carson, Something about the Sky was just released on March 12, 2024, in the form of a picture book illustrated by Nikki McClure. 

​Some books provide instruction on how to interact with nature and/or do something concrete and practical toward solving an environmental problem. There are those that describe school and community gardens, for example, such as George Ancona’s It’s Our Garden: From Seeds to Harvest in a School Garden and Emily Murphy’s Grow Now: How We Can Save our Health, Communities, and Planet—One Garden at a Time. The cover of Outdoor School: Animal Watching, by Mary Kay Carson, asserts its status as The Definitive Interactive Nature Guide. The subtitle of Darlene Cavalier, Catherine Hoffman,, and Caren Cooper’s The Field Guide to Citizen Science promises to tell How You Can Contribute to Scientific Research and Make a Difference. The picture book Ada’s Violin: The Story of the Recycled Orchestra of Paraguay, by Susan Hood, may inspire readers to look around their own neighborhoods for opportunities to solve problems and create beauty. (It’s available in Spanish, also: El violín de Ada: La historia de la Orquesta de Reciclados del Paraguay.)

​A third one-word answer to the environmental crisis we face is PROTEST. There are numerous books introducing young people fighting back, confronting those adults who are not doing enough to nurture and heal the earth, or who are even causing conditions to worsen as they reap a profit. Greta Thunberg probably immediately comes to mind. Now 21, Greta continues to show leadership and bravery at climate rallies and at political and economic conferences. Her latest publication, The Climate Book, is a compilation of essays and documents by dozens of experts on various facets of climate change. There are other young activists around the globe fighting for their homelands and the earth as a whole. For example, Vanessa Nakate’s A Bigger Picture: My Fight to Bring a New African Voice to the Climate Crisis contains chapters including “Finding My Cause,” “A Greener Uganda,” “We Are All Africa,” “Speaking Out for Women and Girls,” and “Rise Up for Justice.” Her final chapter, “What Can I Do?” offers ten specific ways readers can make a difference.  

​Other forms of protest involve art, as Jessica Vitkus’s Crafting Change: Handmade Activism, Past and Present, shows. The book contains stories of protest involving sculpting, quilting, photography, street art, baking, and zines. There are instructions for projects, such as using embroidery to create a human billboard, and making bracelets that convey a message with beads. At the end of Emma Reynolds’ graphic novel collection, Drawn to Change the World: 16 Youth Climate Activists, 16 Artists, the author offers a challenge to readers: “Can you draw what you think the future might look like? Share it with us #DTCTWFuture” (p. 172).

​All these texts offer hope in addition to sound, concrete advice. So my final one word answer to our thought experiment about saving the planet is: BOOKS. It’s essential that we fill our classrooms with YA and New Adult (NA) memoirs of environmental activists (broadly defined); informational books filled with ideas for taking action; novels that show characters grappling with the problems and bravely facing the future with hope and love; and how-to books with advice and instructions. Through Reader’s Advisory, we can match students with the books that are right for them. Individual readers will learn some things about the big picture, and also find the pieces of the puzzle that they wish to devote themselves to. They will be able to collaborate with fellow activists; offer encouragement, appreciation, and joy to others; and seek ways to renew our precious earth.   

​I’ll share my reaction to a related quote by Reynolds: “Art and books are a protest. This book is a protest” (p. xiv). Using Reynold’s book as a mentor text, I’ll say, “My YAL Summit Classroom Practice session was a protest. This YA Wednesday post is a protest. Every school and home garden we plant is a protest, and a commitment, and an act of love.” 

Below are references for the works cited above, as well as additional resources that can help us lead our students in a joyful, hopeful endeavor to heal our home.
Books about the Environment and Activism: A Reading List in Progress
​
Ancona, G. (2013). It’s our garden: From seeds to harvest in a school garden. Somerville, MA: Candlewick Press.
Birnbaum, J., & Fox, L. (2014). Sustainable [r]evolution: Permaculture in ecovillages, urban farms, and communities worldwide. Berkeley, CA: North Atlantic Books.
Carson, M.K. (2021). Outdoor school: Animal watching. Illus. E. Dahl. New York: Odd Dot.
Carson, R. (2024). Something about the sky. Illus. N. McClure. Somerville, MA: Candlewick Studio.
Carson, R. (2022). Silent spring, 40th Anniversary Edition. Mariner Books Classics.
Cavalier, D., Hoffman, C., & Cooper, C. (2020). The field guide to citizen science: How you can contribute to scientific research and make a difference. Portland, OR: Timber Press.
Craig, M. (2022). Birdgirl: Looking to the skies in search of a better future. New York: Celadon Books.
Delliquanti, B., with Ho, S. (2018). Meal. Chicago, IL: Iron Circus Comics.
Hood, S. (2016). Ada’s violin: the story of the recycled orchestra of Paraguay.  Illus. S.W. Comport. New York: Simon & Schuster.
Hood, S. (2016). El violín de Ada: La historia de la Orquesta de Reciclados del Paraguay. Illus. S.W. Comport. Trans. S. McConnell. New York: Simon & Schuster.
Jahren, H. (2021). The story of more: How we got to climate change and where to go from here, adapted for young adults. New York: Delacorte Press.
Jahren, H. (2017). Lab Girl. New York: Vintage Books.
Johnson, A.E., & Wilkinson, K.K., (Eds.). (2020). All we can save: Truth, courage, and solutions for the climate crisis. New York: One World.
Kane, S. (2023). Teaching New Adult literature in high school and college. New York: Routledge.
Kimmerer, R. W. (2022). Braiding sweetgrass for young adults: Indigenous wisdom, scientific knowledge, and the teachings of plants. Adapted by M.G. Smith. Illus. N Neidhardt. Minneapolis, MN: Zest Books.
Klein, N. with Stefoff, R. (2021). How to change everything: The young human’s guide to protecting the planet and each other. New York: Atheneum.
Levy, D.A. (2023). Breaking the mold: Changing the face of climate change. New York: Holiday House.
Love, A. (2021). DIY sustainable projects: 15 craft projects for eco-friendly living. London: Welbeck.
Malm, A. (2023). Fighting in a world on fire: The next generation’s guide to protecting the climate and saving the future. Adapted by J. Whipps and L. Whipps. Brooklyn, NY: Verso.
McDonnelll, P. (2011). Me … Jane. New York: Little, Brown and Company.
Mihaly, C., & Heavenrich, S. (2019). amzn.to/3TKTbEFDiet for a changing climate: Food for thought. Minneapolis, MN: Twenty-First Century Books.
Murphy, E. (2022). Grow now: How we can save our health, communities, and planet—one garden at a time. Portland, OR: Timber Press.
Nakate, V. (2021). A bigger picture: My fight to bring a new African voice to the climate crisis. New York: Mariner Books.
Reynolds, E. (2023). Drawn to change the world: 16 youth climate activists, 16 artists. New York: HarperAlley.
Ritchie, H. (2024). Not the end of the world: How we can be the first generation to build a sustainable planet. New York: Little, Brown Spark.
Rusch, E. (2023). The 21: the true story of the youth who sued the U.S. government over climate change. New York: Greenwillow Books.
Sanchez, A. (2023). The forest in the sea: Seaweed solutions to planetary problems. New York: Holiday House.
Thunberg, G. (2023). The climate book. New York: Penguin Press.
Vitkus, J. (2022). Crafting change: Handmade activism, past and present. New York: Farrar Straus Giroux.
Wenjen, M. (2023). Food for the future: Sustainable farms around the world. Illus. R. Sae-Heng. Concord, MA: Barefoot Books.