Meet our Contributor:
​Christian George Gregory is an Assistant Professor of Education at Saint Anselm College and was formerly a Lecturer at Teachers College, Columbia University, where he received his Ph.D. in English Education. He holds two degrees in literature from the Bread Loaf School of English at Middlebury College, was the recipient two fellowships from the NEH, a semi-finalist for the Bechtal Award, and garnered the JSTOR Lesson Plan award. He has written for multiple edited collections, as well as English Journal, English Education, QED: A Journal in GLBTQ Worldmaking, the International Journal of Dialogic Pedagogy, and International Journal of LGBTQ Youth, where he serves on the Editorial Board. He is the former Program Chair for the AERA’s Queer SIG and currently serves on the judging committees for ALAN’s Walden and NCTE’s REALM Awards. He is a published poet and was a semi-finalist for the Writers Retreat for Emerging LGBTQ Voices through Lamda Literary for his young adult novel, Two Davids. His research interests include the migration of queer theory to queer pedagogy, classroom discourse, and expanding the canon in English Education.

Ursula K. Le Guin is known for her philosophically complex works of literature that defy simple categories of genre (Cadden, 2005). She argues in her essay “The Child and the Shadow” that fiction, especially fantasy fiction, can provide the young reader a “guide of the journey to self-knowledge, to adulthood, to the light” (Le Guin, 2024, p. 879). Reading allows adolescents to confront who they are and might become, making Le Guin’s YA novels open-ended stories of self-discovery and growth (Cadden, 2006). The overarching themes across the texts I discuss here include how in adolescence we must learn to use our abilities for good, build trust with others, and accept the dynamic nature of life.

Earthsea Series
The first three books of this series each feature its own adolescent protagonist. A Wizard of Earthsea introduces readers to Ged, a boy whose magical talents lead him to attend a renowned school for wizards on the island of Roke. As Ged learns to use his abilities, he must undertake a journey that mirrors his psychological development. The Tombs of Atuan is about a teenager named Tenar, who was taken from her home when she was a young child to serve as priestess to deities known as the Nameless Ones. When the wizard Ged shows up searching for something hidden in the underground Tombs that Tenar oversees, Tenar has to decide whether or not to break free of the isolated and bleak life she has known. The Farthest Shore is the coming of age journey of an adolescent prince named Arren as he accompanies Ged, who is now middle-aged and the powerful archmage, on a journey to discover why magic is failing across Earthsea. Something has upset the balance of the world, and Arren and Ged set out to restore it.

Annals of the Western Shore trilogy
Set in a world of city-states, villages, and rural lands along the western shore of a fictional continent, each novel in the series is its own story, following a different adolescent who must come to terms with growing up in a world that can be brutal and oppressive. Each of the series’s protagonists must figure out how to build a life, even under difficult circumstances. Taken together, this trilogy examines how stories can bridge divides and connect people.
 
Gifts takes place in the sparse Uplands where teenaged Orrec’s family eeks out a living raising cattle. Orrec awaits the day he will show the power passed down in his father’s family called the unmaking, the ability to destroy someone or something with just a look. Gry, Orrec’s best friend, has inherited her mother’s gift of calling animals, an ability highly prized for hunting. When Orrec fears that his power to unmake might be out of his control, he blindfolds himself, while Gry refuses to use her gift to call animals to waiting hunters. Orrec and Gry must decide how they want to use their abilities.
 
Voices is set in the coastal town of Ansul, which has been under occupation by the army of a neighboring land for the past seventeen years. The novel’s protagonist, Memer, lives in the house that the people of Ansul have smuggled their books to for safekeeping, as the occupiers have banned all books under penalty of death. Memer’s experience living under occupation and the arrival in Ansul of a famous storyteller leaves the reader pondering the meaning of freedom beyond just the absence of constraints as well as different ways to resist oppression.
 
Powers is the story of a young slave in the city-state of Etra. Gavir is content as a slave for a wealthy family until a devastating tragedy leads Gavir to wander away from Etra, question the life he has known, and come to grips with the dehumanizing, corrosive effects of cruel social systems.

References
Attebery, B. (1982) The Beginning Place: Le Guin’s metafantasy. Children’s Literature, 10, 113-123. https://dx.doi.org/10.1353/chl.0.0196.
Cadden, M. (2005). Ursula K. Le Guin Beyond Genre: Fiction for Children and Adults. Routledge.
Cadden, M. (2006). Taking different roads to the city: The development of Ursula K. Le Guin’s young adult novels. Extrapolation, 47(3), 427-444. https://doi.org/10.3828/extr.2006.47.3.7
Le Guin, U. K. (2024). The child and the shadow. In B. Attebery (Ed.) Le Guin: Five novels. (pp. 873-884). The Library of America.
​

It’s no secret that I have a deep and abiding love for verse novels. There is something magical in the way a story gets constructed across a series of poems.  I am struck by the interplay of language, literary elements, and visual space.  I appreciate the lyrical and visual punch of Kwame Alexander’s The Crossover and the melodic flow and character development of Ann E. Burg’s Flooded.  I like the history built into Chris Crowe’s Death Coming Up the Hill and Melanie Crowder’s Audacity. I adore how Sharon Creech’s Love that Dog and Hate that Cat play with our expectations of poems we were taught and how Caroline Brooks DuBois’s Ode to a Nobody is a love letter to English class and writing. I am lost in magic that is Joy McCollough’s Enter the Body—that book, those characters pulled from Shakespeare, those poems.  Ahh, I could lose myself in other people’s lines and happily while away hours.

​However, I am working with these books for a reason; I am  in my office pulling verse novels from my shelves for a project that I am doing with my students.  I’ve just pulled Who Killed Mr. Chippendale? by Mel Glenn from my shelves and I am struck by the journey this book and I have taken.  This verse novel, published in 1996, was one of the first verse novels I ever used with students. I still remember conversations with students about how poems didn’t have to rhyme and how they could be linked together to tell a story.   I still use poems from Who Killed Mr. Chippendale? as mentor texts for writers. My English major students sometimes overlook this book; it isn’t as lyrical or as visually stunning as other verse novels. It is deceptively simple—a murder mystery told in verse.  If we set aside how it manipulates the mystery genre, building up and releasing tension differently than a prose text would.  If we ignore how the plot builds over poems from individual students who knew or interacted with the murdered teacher, if we ignore how the clues are hidden and not hidden in the poems, if we ignore all of that, we still have a book that engages readers with a story that seems oddly current.  The language is dated (it is nearly 30 years old) and simple, but it still grabs readers.  Contemporary verse novels are more complex, often more poetic, and perhaps more stylistic but there is still something compelling about this text and these poems.

Each poem provides a character’s thoughts and ideas.  The poem “Kesha Templeton” shows the readers Kesha’s view of the school day.  She does not focus on the death of the teacher, but rather the aftermath. One of my former 7th grade students said, “Kesha doesn’t talk about the teacher. She talks about the murder. I don’t know if she knew him but I know she is scared.”  This student connected with this poem and was able to talk about what he thought and provide evidence from the poem to back up his ideas.  

Around here, it’s been murder,
Literally.
Vocabulary exercise of the day, guys.
How many words do we know?
       Period 1: manslaughter
       Period 2: homicide
       Period 3: slaying
       Period 4: assassination
       Period 5: massacre
       Period 6: ethnic cleansing
       Period 7: annihilation
       Period 8: genocide
Hey, this school is scary.
At the end of the year I’m transferrin’.
I’m just dying to get out (p. 21).

As a poem, Keesha Templeton, plays with the definitions of literally and figuratively.  She opens with “Around here, it’s been murder,/Literally.”  She uses the word murder to both talk about the actual murder that happened and to describe how hard it has been at the school.  She then finishes the poem with a return to the figurative use of the word dying to describe how anxious she is about being a student in the school. This interaction with literal and figurative meanings of words may seem simple but, as readers, we are aware of how these concepts are introduced as part of high school English classes.  This push/pull on literal and figurative language emphasizes Keesha’s role as student and introduces her as a student who has paid attention and has internalized this learning.  Opening and closing with murder and dying show that she has also internalized the alarm that comes from being in a location where violence has happened.

Keesha’s word play continues with a description of her classes. She names each class after a form of murder rather than the name of the actual class. Her description ends with Period 8: genocide.  This list shows Keesha’s fear and uncertainty.  She uses the naming of different forms of murder as a tool to separate herself from the fear she feels while also using the increasing severity of the words to explore the rising anxiety she feels.  She also implies that school does not feel safe for her. As readers, we see the increasing violence embedded in the words and realize the depth of her anxiety.  The seeming simplicity of the list emphasizes the increasing apprehension the student has in the aftermath of her teacher’s murder.  This poem, in its simplicity, identifies the stark reality of violence in schools and the aftermath of that violence.

​The poem provides a strong template for students to think deeply about issues. I first used this poem with seventh graders in the mid-nineties. There were a series of new rules that had been implemented after a fight in the lunchroom, and the students were upset. They felt the rules were being enforced harshly with a zero tolerance policy for kids being kids. Three students wrote:

Around here, it’s been strict,
Literally.
Vocabulary exercise of the day, Rams.
How many words do we know?
     Period 1: stern
     Period 2: firm
     Period 3: harsh
     Period 4: rigid
     Period 5: severe
     Period 6: uncompromising
     Period 7: austere
     Period 8: authoritarian
Hey, big fights are scary.
At the end of the day, you are being too controlling.
We have to have room to grow.

​This poems structure allowed them to map their feelings. In choosing the order for the vocabulary words, they had to argue for the meaning and focus on nuance.  During Covid, a student explored how she felt during a writing exercise, explaining,

​Around here, it’s been sick,
Literally.
Vocabulary exercise of the day, Patriots.
How many words do we know?
     Period 1: illness
     Period 2: sickness
     Period 3: flu
     Period 4: respiratory disease
     Period 5: contagion
     Period 6: virus
Period 7: epidemic
Period 8: pandemic
Hey, this Covid-19 is scary.
At the end of the year I’m getting vaccinated.
I’m just too young to get sick.

What these lines show is a student exploring the worries and concerns about an illness that we knew little about.  What she did know from what was on the news and social media was scary to her.  The pattern let her build vocabulary from the term “illness” to “pandemic” with each iteration of the vocabulary increasing the level of complexity and fear. This seemingly simple format allowed her to explore concerns she had in a form that felt more comfortable to her.  Laney explained in her author’s statement, “I made a picture with words to show how what I meant.”  Avery, a high school student, expressed his feelings about the protests and counterprotests he was seeing around him.

Around here, it’s been killer,
Literally.
Vocabulary exercise of the day, Racism.
How many words do we know?
     Period 1: Tamir Rice, 14
     Period 2: Michael Brown, 15
     Period 3: Jordan Edwards, 26
     Period 4: Stephon Clark, 22
     Period 5: Botham Jean, 26
     Period 6: Breonna Taylor, 26
     Period 7: Dante Wright, 20
     Period 8: George Floyd, 46
Hey, this being black is scary.
At the end of the day, I’m choked up and
I’m just trying to keep breathing.

Like Kesha, Avery focused on loss and death. Rather than rename his vocabulary word—racism—he chose to list the names and ages of black people who had been killed. Some of the names were names that were in the news and others were not.  Students in the class with Avery looked up the names; the poem became a lesson in the results of racism. In giving the names, it personalized the term in ways that renaming would not.

Mel Glenn’s verse novel is dated, and the poetic structures don’t have the complexity of some of the poem structures we teach (sonnets, villanelles, haiku, etc.) but there is still opportunity in these structures.  Part of their strength is their approachability.  That is part of the magic of young adult verse novels—their amazing storytelling that pulls the reader in and makes the poems and poetic structures more approachable. Contemporary verse novels are dynamic and so poetic complex.  I am astounded by the narrative complexity of the heroic crown cycle in Marilyn Nelson’s A Wreath for Emmett Till and amazed by the different poetic structures used in Lesleah Newman’s October Mourning. I can get lost in the incredible beauty of Jacqueline Woodson’s Locomotion or Brown Girl Dreaming or slide into the textures of the poems in Elizabeth Acevedo’s Clap When You Land or The Poet X. I still remember the first verse novels I read.  The early novels of Mel Glenn that I read as a high school student and then early career teacher inspired me to write but, more importantly, they inspired my students to write.  So when I pick up Jasmine Warga’s beautiful Other Words for Home or the touching Chlorine Sky by Mahogany Brown or the painful We Are the Ashes, We Are the Fire by Joy McCollough, I know that I am picking up texts that are more than stories that will reach my students, I am picking up texts that will inspire my students to think and to write. 

Meet Our Contributor:

Roy Edward Jackson is an assistant professor of education at Goshen College in Indiana with a focus on literacy. He holds degrees in English, Education and School Library Science. 

When confronted with accusations of indoctrination regarding BIPOC and LGBTQ+ books, I often respond with clarity: no book has ever "made" a student gay or changed their racial or cultural identity. However, for many of us raised within Christian households and other faith traditions, the inclusion of religious content in classrooms can feel more precarious—particularly when concerns of proselytizing arise. Consider the coach who kneels to pray aloud with players before a game. While the Supreme Court has affirmed the coach's right to pray and students’ right to opt out, the inherent power imbalance cannot be ignored. The coach is likely not reciting prayers from multiple religious traditions, but instead from their own, placing unspoken pressure on players to conform for fear of social or athletic repercussions. The act, though legal, lacks inclusivity. I seek not to engage in power, but to be inclusive of all students. 

A brief summary of The Lion, The Witch and The Wardrobe follows four siblings (Peter, Susan, Edmund, and Lucy) who are evacuated during the bombings of London at the height of WWII to an old professor’s house in the countryside. Lucy discovers a passage to another world, Narnia, through a wardrobe. Narnia is under the rule of the White Witch who makes it always winter in Narnia, but no Christmas. The great lion, Aslan, returns to free Narnia while Edmund has betrayed his siblings only to redeem himself with the help of Aslan who sacrifices himself in Edmund’s place. Aslan dies, is resurrected and ultimately defeats the White Witch and crowns the four children the kings and queens of Narnia.

Early in the story, characters in Narnia refer to the children as "sons of Adam" and "daughters of Eve," giving readers a clear biblical reference. In the Bible, Jesus calls himself the "door" to salvation, and the wardrobe that leads to Narnia can be seen as a symbol of that spiritual passage. Aslan’s death on the Stone Table reflects the Crucifixion, and his return to life mirrors Christ’s resurrection. Edmund’s betrayal closely parallels the story of Judas, which many readers will recognize. With the defeat of the White Witch—who represents evil—Christmas returns, symbolizing the arrival of hope and redemption. 

After rereading the stories, I wondered about the insertion of religious allegory into the classroom and brainstormed how to approach this. I began where I often do, with student centered discussion and personal writing first. By placing myself out of the center of the discussion and responses I can ascertain students’ understanding of religious symbolism and, their personal identity with various faiths. The groundwork of acceptance and respect would be paramount to this. 

Armed with this knowledge of the individual and laying the groundwork of respect, I can intentionally group students of various faith backgrounds and religious symbolism understanding and begin activities. This could include activities like mapping Narnia, but through the religious allegory aspects to the action of the story. Students could work in groups to create clipart or memes of symbols and meanings as related to the story pivotal moments. Another activity is a structured debate on the moral choices of characters from both books. Students would be assigned roles to explore perspectives different from their own. This approach encourages empathy and critical thinking by requiring students to defend actions they may not personally agree with. For instance, what motivates the White Witch's cruelty? What in her backstory or worldview might explain her behavior? While the easy place to start, I would offer the best beginning is the intersection of morality and religion and spirituality. Students can identify and compare shared themes—such as temptation, redemption, good vs. evil, and free will—across both of Lewis’ texts that I presented here. As a fan of epistolary form, students could examine the format in The Screwtape Letters and apply that to The Lion, The Witch and The Wardrobe and write letters in the voice of the children from the story that showcases their learned knowledge of religious allegory to their loved ones in London about Narnia. 

I’m always seeking ways to foster inclusion in my classrooms. As a professor at a Christian liberal arts college, and recently reflecting on the season of Easter, I’ve been thinking about how my approach to inclusion has evolved. I’m privileged at my current institution to openly make connections between faith and learning, but I also find myself reflecting on my two decades in public education. While I created space for students' faith knowledge and celebrations, I now wonder how I might have more intentionally incorporated religious allegory and symbolism—especially through texts like those of C.S. Lewis. This reflection has led me to consider how I can now help pre- and in-service teachers thoughtfully engage with these literary experiences in ways that are both inclusive and appropriate for their future classrooms.

​I would bet a lot of money that if you asked people what they would consider as a  “taboo” topic in books for adolescents, responses would be along the lines of politics, sex, or violence. I would guess that very few people would say the topic that Patricia Campbell stated as “the last taboo” in the world of young adult literature: religion. 

​Think of five of your favorite young adult novels. Are there any religious elements in these texts? If so, how is religion being portrayed? Is religion affecting the character and story in a positive or negative way?
 
When I think about the books I read growing up, I do not remember religion being discussed in any book–or at least being an important part of the story (for example, The Baby-Sitters Club or the Goosebumps series). Some of the most popular books growing up had little to no mention of religion, such as Harry Potter, Twilight, or Hunger Games. Why is that? Why have so many been willing to talk about the most controversial of topics but rarely about religion? 

YA scholar, Patricia Campbell, when writing about religion in young adult texts stated that “The majority of realistic YA fiction projects a world in which both the personal practice and the corporate practice of religion are absent, except for the worst aspects of cults or fundamentalist sects” (Mickelson 2). However, there have been recent calls for writers to include religion in their texts, specifically utilizing religion in more realistic ways instead of through purely negative depictions (Mickelson 5). It seems that authors may have heard these recent calls and have responded with some great stories depicting religion more realistically. 

​I was lucky enough in my graduate program to take two classes focused on young adult novels. The first, taught by Chris Crowe, went through a history of young adult novels starting from the 1960s to the early 2000s, in which I noticed mostly negative depictions, if any, of religion, such as in books like Send Me Down a Miracle by Han Nolan.
 
In my second section on YA literature the following semester, modern, award-winning novels were the focus. As I read through recent modern contemporary young adult novels, it seemed to me that there has been a shift in how religion is depicted. In these newer texts, the nuances of being part of a religion in today’s world are shown, rather than the religious binaries of the past, where the text was either didactic or representing religion negatively. 

​In thinking about saints and their role in his religion, Simon says “it’s a little messed up that we make saints of girls who didn’t want to get married and got killed, and boys who didn’t want to make public sacrifices and got killed…It’s like, somehow, they’re holy because awful stuff happened to them” (289). Simon continues his internal dialogue, wondering, “Maybe one of them was super good at soccer, or really liked stargazing…We only know the one part of their life, and it’s the most awful part” (289). Simon does not want to be defined by his most awful moments in life, and does not understand why his religion must be so focused on the past traumas of others; Simon wants to believe that there is more to people than their trials, that there is more to his life than the horrible things he has gone through. Simon wonders why his religion focuses so much on the suffering of people in the past when he wants to focus on healing and the other things that make him who he is. In his case, the point of the saints in his religion focuses on the things that Simon is trying to not dwell on. Can he still be a part of this religion despite this focus and move forward in healing? Does this mean he must abandon his faith altogether?

​Belle’s relationship with her mom is complicated, as are many teenager’s. Belle’s mother, Gina, cannot be described without mention of her religious beliefs. Gina is an Italian Catholic, and Belle describes it as being not “ just about religion–it’s about superstition and safekeeping and tradition” (5). Gina “rarely goes to mass, but she’s got the required crucifix over the kitchen doorway, the rosary in the dresser drawer, and the stack of dead relatives’ funeral cards, held together with a rubber band” (5). Belle’s use of the word “required” in this quote demonstrates her view of religion being something that is forced, where people seem to just go through the traditional motions. Belle’s relationship with her mother is complicated in the beginning of the novel in part due to Gina’s religious beliefs since Belle does not hold the same reverence for the traditions. Belle has a difficult time believing “people are still Catholic,” and draws a comparison between the Catholic church and Hostess Twinkies, since they both have been around “for a zillion years, in spite of the bad press and rumors of vanishing” (5). When examining Belle’s own beliefs, the narrator asks “How can Annabelle believe in anything anymore, though? It’d be nice to have a belief, but it’s likely gone for good” as a result of what she has suffered (5).  

As Belle slowly allows herself to remember her past and to feel the emotions she’s been trying to bury, she realizes that the idea of religion, such as the Saint Christopher, is comforting in moments; however, she recognizes it is not enough to heal her completely. Belle finally is able to sift through the memories of her boyfriend and best friend being killed by her stalker, finally revealing to the reader what exactly happened that night. Before she allows the memory to unravel in her mind, she sees “The Saint Christopher medal” shining “in the moonlight,” and thinks to herself how “even a saint seems small and powerless against what’s coming” (320). This moment shows the complexities of religion in Belle’s life, where she has the two contradicting feelings about religion: it can be comforting and healing, and it can also cause more anxieties and questions. These ideas are so opposite of one another that it would seem somewhat impossible for them to both make up her religious identity; yet she is able to have these back and forth moments that help her to better understand what role religion can play in her life–and that it does not have to have just one purpose. 

While less young adults identify as being religious as ever before, there is still a need to show representation for the many young adults who are trying to find the balance between living in a modern world, with all of its complexities and instant gratifications, and holding onto something that gives them hope–something that may have given their families hope for generations.

While these texts mentioned are great examples of a more realistic depiction of religion, there are several others that do similar things, and they are worth exploring for further insight into religion in young adult literature today. Some of these texts are All My Rage by Sabaa Tahir, The 57 Bus by Dashka Slater, Scythe by Neal Shusterman, and Everything Sad is Untrue by Daniel Nayeri. Even though religion is never the primary focus of these texts, that makes them even more realistic. With so many things begging for a teen's attention–social media, jobs, school, current events, family, friends, relationships, etc.--religion is oftentimes a smaller part of a religious teen’s life, but it is still a part of it. And that part shapes their adolescence, which ultimately shapes how they view themselves and the world around them. Giving examples and presenting the inner dialogue of what one may experience as a teen navigating religion in the modern world can do what literature does best–what we love literature for: showing young adults that they are not alone, providing them new ways to think about their experiences, positions, and questions, and helping them on their path to better understanding who they are.

Cheryl: When I was growing up, being Jewish was something we did at home. School was for the majority religion, which in my suburban elementary school was learning Christmas carols in music class or making Christmas and Easter decorations, but never about my Jewish holidays and traditions. In fact, the Jewish population at my school was so small that I was the only Jewish student in my class. My mom was the “Hanukkah Mom,” the one who came in every year to tell the story of the one Jewish holiday that my teachers had heard of but, sadly, had no familiarity to teach about it themselves. Home was where I could be myself. My family went to synagogue and celebrated the High Holy Days by eating apples and honey; celebrated Passover with the eternally long ritual meal - the Seder - where my siblings and I would count the pages in our haggadah until dinner was served; and home was where we lit the Shabbat candles every Friday night to welcome the Sabbath into our hearts and our home. Home was for being Jewish; public was for fitting in. 

Melanie: In contrast, I grew up in a neighborhood that had a large population of Jewish families. I went to Hebrew school with a lot of my classmates, and my schools recognized and included Jewish holidays in their calendars and celebrations. Granted, we did not get days off for the significant holidays of Rosh Hashanah, Yom Kippur, or Passover, but teachers understood and respected our absences. Hanukkah was included in Winter Holiday performances with a token song or skit, but the holiday was not unfamiliar to my classmates. In junior high, going to bar and bat mitzvahs every weekend was fairly typical, for Jews and non-Jews alike. Being Jewish was a part of who I was, and welcomed in all aspects of my life, both inside and outside of the home.

Although we are both Jewish, our lived experiences were and still are very different. And they are different still from our Jewish friends. Often, Jewish people are lumped together as a monolith, yet there are many different ways of being Jewish in America and the world today. Not all people who identify as Jewish are religious or consider themselves practitioners of Judaism, yet they may feel inherently Jewish as their ethnic and cultural identity.

​May is Jewish American Heritage Month. The Jewish people have an incredibly rich heritage. Jews have been a part of the fabric of every empire, have lived throughout the world, and been a part of the fabric of the American tapestry since the country was established. Yet, there is little representation of Jewish identity in young adult literature, and what little literature there is often focuses on the 3 H’s: The Holocaust, history, or holidays (and often only the holiday of Hanukkah, a holiday that does not hold much importance in Judaism). However, there is so much more to being Jewish outside of the 3 H’s that we would like to highlight today.

​Although few in number, there are young adult titles that celebrate the diverse and intersectional ways of being Jewish in contemporary times. From stories of Orthodox Jews to secular Jews living their most authentic selves; to stories of Jewish subgroups including Ashkenazi (Jews with Eastern European heritage), Mizrahi (Jews with Middle Eastern heritage), and Sephardic (Jews with Spanish and Portuguese heritage), and stories of other intersectional Jewish identities including Jewish people with disabilities, Jews who identify as LGBTQ, and Jews who struggle with their mental health. There are so many contemporary tales that deserve a place on your bookshelves and in your classrooms.

In a time of increasing antisemitism, it is apparent to us that many people do not know what Judaism is or who Jewish people are, and are only aware of stereotypes. People often fear the other or the unknown. We strongly believe that books that celebrate Judaism and the Jewish people, including their intersectional nature, are a great step in introducing people to the beauty and complexity of Jewish life. By providing students with a varied and rich introduction to the Jewish experience, we can develop empathy, appreciation, and a respect for cultural diversity.

​Here are some contemporary realistic fiction titles we love, with a favorite fantasy thrown in:

Rachel Lynn Solomon writes many authentic and enjoyable novels with Jewish characters. In the sequel to her extremely popular Today Tonight Tomorrow, Past Present Future continues the story of Rowan and Neil, following them as they head off to separate universities in different states. Even though they’ve come together after years of being rivals, can they overcome the distance, both in miles and in emotions, to ensure their relationship continues and thrives? This novel sensitively includes a character struggling with their mental health in a way that is at times hard to read and neccessary.

An additional book that includes Jewish characters with chronic illnesses is Sick Kids in Love by Hannah Moskowitz.

​Other books with great LGBTQ+ representation: Time and Time Again by Chatham Greenfield and Finally Fitz by Marisa Kanter. 

Until recently, my knowledge of the regional literature of Appalachia in the United States had been limited to a few blockbuster hits that, by and large, have been criticized for their portrayal of regional identity and socioeconomic issues. That was until the author Kate Pearsall unexpectedly fell into my lap with her current duet of novels, Bittersweet in the Hollow and Lies on the Serpent's Tongue.

I am currently sitting on my Independent School Districts’ (one of the largest in the state of Texas) Literature List Review Committee. Our charge, led by our Secondary Language Arts Administrator, is to review and recommend teacher submissions for YA titles to be placed on our “Whole-Class Approved Novels” lists for each grade level. Here is where I first learned of Pearsall’s works and fell in love with her portrayal of the Appalachian Region. 

Kate Pearsall’s storytelling weaves her experiences with her mother’s bedtime stories about growing up in West Virginia and the intersection of Scottish-Irish folklore and magic. These tales are truly magical transporters that plant the reader right into the heart of secluded Appalachia- where magic, moonshine, and the power of sisterhood abound. 

When I first picked up her debut book Bittersweet in the Hollow, I was not sure what to expect. The back cover copy (or blurb) promises the reader a magical folk-laced mystery, a genre-mixing tale of a group of female family members possessing unusual talents spanning three generations. All of this is set within an authentic portrayal of a small town in the Appalachian mountains. A town’s complexities that reach far beyond what reader’s know to be stereotypical; a place that transcends the common poverty-stricken, drug-laden, hillbilly-esque picture that many of us associate with the region due to the common texts we know. 

Bittersweet in the Hollow offers a rich narrative landscape for students to consider how identity, power, and voice function within a community. Enveloped within a seemingly who-dun-it mystery, this first novel in the duet follows the protagonist, Linden, as she not only struggles through a sequence of traumatic events, but also walks with her as she discovers the power within herself, the roots of her family, and uncovers power through sisterhood. When viewed through the lens of feminist criticism, Linden’s story becomes a powerful exploration of how women’s voices can often be marginalized and silenced—and how reclaiming those voices, and that power, becomes an act of resistance. Students can use the events in this story to explore deeper questions about individual equity, personal agency, and how traditional views of the patriarchal system further systemic expectations in our society today. 

​I love this debut novel for a buddy read or student book clubs in the classroom. This text naturally invites discussion and connection through its overarching themes and ideas as well as the intrigue built around the folklore of the Moth-Winged Man, naturopathy, and mysticism. Its atmospheric setting and slowly-unraveling mystery around a current murder and a cold case keep readers engaged, while its character-driven focus offers plenty of opportunities to pause, reflect, and explore motivations, choices, and relationships. All of which are perfect for open-ended conversations for students to lead independently with each other. 

In a classroom setting where student voice, choice, and engagement matter more than ever, Kate Pearsall’s works of Bittersweet in the Hollow and Lies on the Serpent's Tongue stand out as compelling texts that bridge traditional literary merit, high-interest texts, and student accessibility. Kate Pearsall’s works not only bring the often-overlooked and often-stereotyped Appalachian region into the spotlight with nuance, reverence, and respect, but it also offers students a chance to examine the multi-layered themes through a lens that is both magical and deeply human. Whether used for independent study, book clubs/literature circles, or buddy reads, this novel has the potential to spark rich, student-driven dialogue that builds empathy, critical thinking, and a broader understanding of inclusive storytelling.

Haley Smiley
Haley is a graduate student in James Madison University’s Master’s in Arts of Teaching program. She received her bachelor’s degree in December 2024, majoring in English with minors in Secondary Education and Teaching English to Speakers of Other Languages. After graduation, she plans to teach middle school English Language Arts in Virginia. Her work can be found in the Virginia English Journal and The Ohio Journal of Mathematics.

Mark A. Lewis
Mark is professor of literacy education at James Madison University. His research interests include examining and critiquing representations of adolescence and youth in young adult and adult literature, defining the multifaceted literary competence of secondary students, and identifying effective ways to support multilingual learners. Prior to coming to JMU, he taught middle school English and English as a second language in Arizona and high school English in
Colorado. Mark has over 35 publications, including multiple book chapters and in scholarly journals such as English Education, English Journal, The ALAN Review, Study & Scrutiny, Journal of Teacher Education, Middle Grades Research Journal, Journal of Literacy Research, and Reading Research Quarterly. He is also a co-author of Rethinking the "Adolescent" in Adolescent Literacy (2017, NCTE Press) and Reading the World through Sports and Young Adult Literature: Resources for the English Classroom (2024, NCTE Press).

​Archetypes, while originating from Jungian psychoanalysis (see Mikki, 2025, for an overview of Jung’s work), are more broadly understood as sociohistorical constructs that have evolved over time. They function as narrative tools, employed in storytelling to create shared meaning, shape identities, and foster a sense of community. By encouraging archetypal reflectivity, readers can connect their personal experiences with familiar fictional narratives and “typical” characters, thereby facilitating a deeper understanding of both themselves and the world around them.

​The hero archetype is widely recognized, but other archetypes, such as the sage, rebel, and trickster, are equally prevalent and significant (here are descriptions of the 12 Jungian Archetypes). Each archetype embodies specific qualities and fulfills distinct roles within a narrative, offering valuable insights into both personal and social dynamics. Fictional characters exemplify these archetypes, allowing readers to recognize and understand corresponding patterns in their own behaviors, relationships, and perspectives.

​The sage archetype, for instance, represents wisdom, knowledge, and guidance. Characters embodying this archetype often serve as mentors or advisors, offering valuable insights and helping others navigate challenges (see Renga & Lewis, 2018, for discussion on sage characters in YA literature). The rebel, on the other hand, symbolizes defiance, nonconformity, and the pursuit of change. Rebellious characters often challenge the status quo, inspiring others to question authority and fight for their beliefs (see this article for a list of novels that feature the rebel archetype). The trickster, who might also be rebellious but enacts their dissatisfaction disparately, embodies cunning, mischief, and the subversion of expectations. Trickster characters often disrupt norms, challenge assumptions, and provoke thought through their actions. Many cultures include trickster tales as part of their folklore.

​By recognizing and exploring these archetypes in literature and within themselves, readers can gain a deeper understanding of the human experience, fostering personal growth, empathy, and a sense of connectedness with others. To this aim, we offer three characters from highly-regarded young adult literature as examples of three additional archetypes–the innocent, the heroine, and the everyman–along with what readers of all ages can learn from these “typical characters” about their own ideals, thoughts, and actions.

​In Wolf Hollow by Lauren Wolk (2016), Annabelle McBride embodies “the innocent” archetype, representing morality, care for deep relationships, and an unwavering belief in justice. Throughout the novel, Annabelle is characterized by her strong sense of right and wrong, her enduring kindness, and her desire to see the good in others, even when confronted with cruelty.

​Readers can apply this to their own lives by embracing empathy, seeking justice, and refusing to judge others based on assumptions. Like Annabelle, readers can learn to stand firm in their beliefs and make choices that align with their values, even when it is difficult. In this way, Annabelle’s innocence serves as both an inspiration and a guide for navigating moral dilemmas in real life.

​In Firekeeper’s Daughter by Angeline Boulley (2021), Daunis Fontaine exemplifies “the heroine” archetype through her courage, resilience, and ability to not allow society to block her from accomplishing her goals (see the Kirkus review). Like canonical heroines, Daunis is thrust into a dangerous situation that challenges her beliefs and forces her to grow. She does not seek out heroism, but when confronted with corruption and crime, she bravely steps up to protect her community.

​Readers can apply this lesson by standing up for what is right, even in difficult situations. Daunis also teaches the importance of embracing one’s cultural heritage and personal identity, reinforcing that strength comes from knowing who you are. Through her heroic journey, Daunis inspires readers to find their own strength and purpose.

​In The Lost Year by Katherine Marsh (2023), Matthew embodies “the everyman” archetype, representing an ordinary individual who undergoes personal growth through life-altering experiences. Matthew is not like a traditional hero–he does not begin with extraordinary bravery or ambition. Instead, he starts as a thirteen-year-old, caught up in his own familial frustrations while also navigating the COVID-19 pandemic. His journey of self-discovery, particularly
regarding his family's past, transforms him from a self-absorbed boy into someone more aware, empathetic, and connected to his family’s history.

Readers can apply this lesson by listening to and seeking out family histories, questioning the narratives they are given, and recognizing the impact of past events on the present. They can also use newfound historical awareness to develop a more informed worldview. Matthew’s journey shows that anyone–no matter how "ordinary"– can grow into a more thoughtful, compassionate individual simply by being open to learning and understanding.

Archetypal reflectivity informed by fiction can be useful for readers by highlighting possibilities for their lived lives. The archetypal innocent can lead to exploring more just ways of seeing the world; the archetypal heroine can bolster personal beliefs in their own capabilities; the archetypal everyman can encourage personal growth and confidence in one’s place in society. This might sound overly idealistic, but the struggle to achieve our ideals should not lead us to reject them entirely. To this end, fictional archetypes can provide inspiration, reaffirm ideals, and reinvigorate our imagination of what it means to be human.

​Julianna Lopez Kershen is an Assistant Professor at the Jeannine Rainbolt College of Education at the University of Oklahoma in the Instructional Leadership and Academic Curriculum department. She teaches undergraduate and graduate courses on the topics of English language arts and literacy education, instructional improvement, and curriculum studies.
​
Dr. Kershen earned her Ed.D. in Education Policy, Leadership, and Instructional Practice from Harvard University. As editor of the Oklahoma English Journal, Julianna was awarded the journal affiliate editorial award as a National Council of Teachers of English Journal of Excellence. Previously, Julianna has worked as a researcher, university lecturer, high school English language arts teacher and district-level administrator in Oklahoma and Massachusetts. Julianna is a National Board Certified teacher in Adolescence/Young adult English language arts and received a Fulbright Teacher Scholar Fellowship for study in Tanzania and Kenya
​

​In their book, In Search of Deeper Learning: The Quest to Remake the American High School, Jal Mehta & Sarah Fine (2019) explore how innovative public schools in the United States are attempting to engage students in sustained, deep, and meaningful learning. Mehta and Fine compare their findings to the typical learning interactions experienced by high school students around the country: test-driven coursework and assignments, discreet and siloed content learning, and a lack of connection between learning in school and learning within local communities. Their research drew inspiration from and expanded the American Institutes for Research Study of Deeper Learning (SDL) investigation, began in 2012 and funded by the Hewlett Foundation, to compare student and teacher experiences between schools identified as “deeper learning” schools and a set of “traditional” control schools. The Study of Deeper Learning collected data between 2012-2020 with teams of researchers producing a series of studies, reports, and policy papers, and later partnering with the American Educational Research Association in support of research fellowships for early career education scholars. 

Similarly, Mehta and Fine interviewed teachers and administrators, shadowed students, and spent over 750 hours inside 30 different high schools, collecting data to inform their work. Ultimately, their book focused on four different schools (all identified through pseudonyms): No Excuses High, Dewey High, IB High, and Attainment High School. Of the many standout findings from both studies, our team notes this one: researchers have yet to discover a high school that is a perfect example of deeper learning. However, within many schools there are pockets of learning opportunities, crafted by teachers and community partnerships, in which students experience the three identifying characteristics reflective of deeper learning: (1) mastery driven, interdisciplinary and content-rich inquiry; (2) student-centered, collaborative study that supports students’ identities as capable scholars; and (3) authentic, critical- and creativity-based projects. 

​Taken together, the many investigations into the Study of Deeper Learning data set and the work of Mehta and Fine advocate for policy and practice shifts that would expand deeper learning opportunities. Our own work has focused on extensive reading of published literature investigating the three aspects of deeper learning (i.e., mastery, identity, and creativity), in particular, studying project-based learning and the ways in which pre-service teachers can learn how to engage future students in project- and problem-based inquiry. To achieve more deeper learning opportunities for all students, schools must move away from traditional rote learning and explicitly adopt inquiry-driven models of learning. School schedules must shift to accommodate more flexible learning opportunities, create and support interdisciplinary teams, revise grading practices, and create more than cursory partnerships with community partners. These kinds of institutional and instructional changes are challenging. Indeed, state and district responses to recent NAEP scores wherein declines in reading and math were steep (National Assessment Governing Board; National Assessment of Educational Progress) serve as data for policy decisions to double down on testing preparation and “personalized” learning. 

​Those decisions often translate into more rote learning and individual, and increasingly screen-based interactions, in which students are less likely to collaborate on weeks-long projects driven by their own research questions and immersed in reading, writing, creating, making, and solving. Under the Common Core, students are more likely to be engaged in reading short-form text excerpts (Sacks, 2019), answering discreet-answer questions, and focused on practices aimed at “skill-building,” but divorced from in-depth collaborative learning involving creative making and critical thinking. In addition, in many states, recent legislation and censorship efforts highlight the precarity educators face when provisioning instruction and learning opportunities that forward students’ identity development. We know from decades of research (e.g., Bondy & Ross, 2008; Esteban-Guitart & Moll, 2014; Mohammad, 2020; Ware, 2006) that students are more likely to succeed academically when they feel their identities are valued as assets in the classroom, and when their funds of familial, linguistic, cultural, and community knowledge are leveraged as strengths. As educators, we should not retreat from the progress we have made towards accessible, culturally relevant and responsive education (Ladson-Billings, 1995; Saucedo & Jimenez, 2021) that partners with learners, parents, and guardians. We should continue to change as teachers to shift from information providers to mentors and facilitators of learning.

​If you’ve read this far, then you may be asking, why are we writing about deeper learning and our belief that educators must continue to push for transformative change in American high schools for Dr. Bickmore’s young adult literature blog?

​Really, it’s simple. As English language arts teachers we are positioned with the enormous power and responsibility to be the brokers of literature and philosophy, of creative writing and rhetorical study. It is in our classrooms that we can place poems that inspire in the hands of youth. We can challenge students to identify the issues that matter to them, teach them how to research ethically and carefully, and to write arguments that are sent to elected officials, community newspapers, and blogposts. And, importantly: we are equipped to push back against the war for attention being waged by our digital lives and screen-based technologies. In our classrooms we can invite students to rebuild their attention through face-to-face engagement and the reading of novels, collections of poetry and short stories, important speeches, plays, and nonfiction of all forms. 

Mehta and Fine (2019) emphasize that meaningful learning is both cognitive and emotional, and that it requires both short- and long-term engagement. Deeper learning is the result of meaningful, interactive learning that thrives in both individual and social contexts. Mehta and Fine assert that deeper learning flourishes in environments where students are encouraged to take ownership of their education and apply their knowledge in meaningful ways. They also acknowledge that to be successful in the 21st century world it requires a lot more than basic academic knowledge and skills. Since the release of generative artificial intelligence platforms in November 2022 this acknowledgment is even more true. We argue that to “AI-proof” ELA assignments, teachers need to design and implement more project-based learning with authentic performances and assessments. This won’t be easy, and we can’t do it alone. But by embracing these principles, schools can create richer, more engaging educational experiences that prepare students not just for tests, but for life.

Metha and Fine challenge us to build humanities classrooms that move beyond passive knowledge acquisition. Teachers must develop student’s knowledge and skill in a content domain (mastery), become deeply and personally invested in that domain (identity), and actively construct and create something new in that domain instead of receiving knowledge passively (creativity) (Metha & Fine, 2019, p. 366). How might we go about doing this? As mentioned earlier our team is studying how preservice teachers develop the skills, confidence, and dispositions to engage in ambitious teaching. In addition to this work, our peers have been using project-based learning and inquiry-based learning approaches to frame text selection and lesson planning. 

Listed below are popular, commonly known YA novels, along with essential questions that can be utilized to guide planning as well as classroom discussion, and ideas for companion projects.

​Ninth Ward by Jewell Parker Rhodes and Drowned City: Hurricane Katrina and New Orleans by Don Brown  (identity, creativity, mastery)
How can individuals and communities transform adversity into strength and empowerment?
Project ideas: Studying urban development and environmental justice, history of redlining and neighborhood segregation (Kershen, 2024)

Bondy, E., & Ross, D. D. (2008). The teacher as warm demander. Educational Leadership, 66(1), 54-58.
Esteban-Guitart, M., & Moll, L. C. (2014). Funds of identity: A new concept based on the funds of knowledge approach. Culture & psychology, 20(1), 31-48.
Kershen, J. L. (2024) Exploring the Complexities of Environmental Disaster, Justice, and Racism in Ninth Ward. In K. M. Hinton & K. Chandler (Eds.). Teaching Black Speculative Fiction (pp. 1-15). Routledge.
Ladson-Billings, G. (1995). Toward a Theory of Culturally Relevant Pedagogy. American Educational Research Journal, 32(3), 465–491. https://doi.org/10.2307/1163320
Mehta, J., & Fine, S. (2019). In search of deeper learning: The quest to remake the American high school. Harvard University Press.
Muhammad, G. (2020). Cultivating Genius. Scholastic Incorporated.
National Assessment of Education Progress.
National Assessment Governing Board.
Ware, F. (2006). Warm demander pedagogy: Culturally responsive teaching that supports a culture of achievement for African American students. Urban education, 41(4), 427-456.
 

A few years ago I started trying to do interviews with authors in order to promote a conference or a summit. 

It was a lot of fun and whether or not I was able to promote more attendance at the confernce became less important than the fun I was having talking to authors. Some of those are embedded deep in the blog and a bit difficult to locate. Most of them are still available at Dr. Bickmore's YA Wednesday YouTube page and are easy to find.

Some of those interviews include interviews with Varian Johnson, Brendan Kiely, Alda P. Dobbs, Karen M McManus, and Carly Heath. 

Since my retirement, I have had a bit more time. Since Januaray of 2024, I have posted nearly 40 posts with several more in the can and ready to go. I am trying to post one every other week. However, sometimes the best laid plans of retired folks get pushed to the side for grandkids or golf.

The Conversations can be found by selecting the CON. title in the header of the blog page. The CON. is short for Conversations so more things fit on the header to avoid using the drop down menu.

Below is a a running list (the most recent first) of the authors and academics I have featured.  I have not listed their names here hoping that you will spend some time scrolling down through the list. I have placed their picture and following their name is a direct link to the conversation. 

In most cases we discuss thier writing habits, how they approach revision, the origins of some of their works, and whatever else seemed interesting at the time.

​Enjoy!

​Steve Bickmore

March 31, 2025
In Conversation with Sarah Ryan: http://www.drbickmoresyawednesday.com/con/in-conversation-with-sara-ryan

March 17, 2025
In Conversation with Jen Calonita: http://www.drbickmoresyawednesday.com/con/in-conversation-with-jen-calonita

February 17, 2025
In Conversation with Kate Messner: http://www.drbickmoresyawednesday.com/con/in-conversation-with-kate-messner

February 2, 2025
In Conversation with Brent Hartinger: http://www.drbickmoresyawednesday.com/con/in-conversation-with-brent-hartinger

January 14, 2025
n Conversation with Gary D. Schmidt: http://www.drbickmoresyawednesday.com/con/in-conversation-with-brent-hartinge

December 27, 2024
In Conversation with Sharon Draper: http://www.drbickmoresyawednesday.com/con/in-conversation-with-sharon-draper

November 11, 2024
In Conversation with Bill Koningsberg: http://www.drbickmoresyawednesday.com/con/in-conversation-with-bill-konigsberg

November 7, 2024
In Conversation with Paul Greci: http://www.drbickmoresyawednesday.com/con/in-conversation-with-paul-greci

October 17, 2024
In Conversation with Padma Venkatraman: http://www.drbickmoresyawednesday.com/con/in-conversation-with-padma-venkatraman

October 3, 2024
In Conversation with Randy Ribay: http://www.drbickmoresyawednesday.com/con/in-conversation-with-randy-ribay

September 5, 2024
In Conversation with Jeff Zentner and Brittany Cavallaro: http://www.drbickmoresyawednesday.com/con/in-conversation-with-jeff-zentner-brittany-cavallaro

August 29, 2024
In Conversation with Leila Sales: http://www.drbickmoresyawednesday.com/con/in-conversation-with-leila-sales

August 22, 2024
In Conversation with Mary Cronk Farrell: http://www.drbickmoresyawednesday.com/con/in-conversation-with-mary-cronk-farell

August 1, 2024
In Conversation with Fred Bowen: http://www.drbickmoresyawednesday.com/con/in-conversation-with-fred-bowen

July 25, 2024
In Conversation with Tracey Baptiste: http://www.drbickmoresyawednesday.com/con/in-conversation-with-tracey-baptiste

July 17, 2024
In Conversation with Josh Allen: http://www.drbickmoresyawednesday.com/con/in-conversation-with-josh-allen

July 11, 2024
In Conversation with Kimberly Willis Holt: http://www.drbickmoresyawednesday.com/con/in-conversation-with-kimberly-willis-holt

June 27, 2024
In Conversation with Lamar Giles: http://www.drbickmoresyawednesday.com/con/in-conversation-with-lamar-giles

June 20, 2024
In Conversation with Lauren Yero: http://www.drbickmoresyawednesday.com/con/in-conversation-with-lauren-yero

June 13, 2024
In Conversation with Federico Erebia: http://www.drbickmoresyawednesday.com/con/in-conversation-with-federico-erebia

May 30, 2024
In Conversation with Rich Wallace: http://www.drbickmoresyawednesday.com/con/in-conversation-with-rich-wallace

May 23, 2024
In Conversation with Jamie Jo Hoang: http://www.drbickmoresyawednesday.com/con/in-conversation-with-jamie-jo-hoang

May 16, 2024
In Conversation with A. S. King: http://www.drbickmoresyawednesday.com/con/in-conversation-with-a-s-king

May 3, 2024
In Conversation with Robert Lipsyte: http://www.drbickmoresyawednesday.com/con/in-conversation-with-robert-lipsyte

May 2, 2024
In Conversation with Jordan Sonneblick: http://www.drbickmoresyawednesday.com/con/in-conversation-with-jordan-sonnenblick

April 24, 2024
In Conversation with Cyndy Etler: http://www.drbickmoresyawednesday.com/con/in-conversation-with-cyndy-etler

April 18, 2024
In Conversation with Candance Fleming: http://www.drbickmoresyawednesday.com/con/in-conversation-with-candice-fleming

April 11, 2024
In Conversation with Barbara Krasner: http://www.drbickmoresyawednesday.com/con/in-conversation-with-barbara-krasner

March 21, 2024
In Conversation with Jo Schaffer Layton: http://www.drbickmoresyawednesday.com/con/in-conversation-with-jo-schaffer-layton

March 7, 2024
In Conversation with Kelly Milner Halls: http://www.drbickmoresyawednesday.com/con/in-conversation-with-kelly-milner-halls

February 22, 2024
In Conversation with Nora Shalaway Carpenter and Chea Parton: http://www.drbickmoresyawednesday.com/con/in-conversation-with-nora-shalaway-carpenter-and-chea-parton

February 15, 2024
In Conversation with Suzanne Morgan Williams: http://www.drbickmoresyawednesday.com/con/in-conversation-with-suzanne-morgan-williams

February 1, 2024
In Conversation with Chris Crutcher: http://www.drbickmoresyawednesday.com/con/in-conversation-with-chris-crowe7318019

February 1, 2024
In Conversation with Keith Henry Brown and Kathryn Erskine: http://www.drbickmoresyawednesday.com/con/in-conversation-with-keith-henry-brown-and-kathryn-erskine

January 27, 2024
In Conversation with Kathryn Erskine: http://www.drbickmoresyawednesday.com/con/in-conversation-with-kathryn-erskine

January 11, 2024
In Conversation with Jennifer Anne Moses: http://www.drbickmoresyawednesday.com/con/in-conversation-with-jennifer-anne-moses

Jan 4, 2024
In Conversation with Chris Crowe: http://www.drbickmoresyawednesday.com/con/in-conversation-with-chris-crowe