Body-Inclusive (Primary)

(3) K-3 "Lanky bodies, squat bodies, / Tall, short, wide or narrow bodies, / Somewhere-in-the-middle bodies, / Bodies are cool!" Feder's rhyming text and double-page spreads filled with all kinds of people celebrate the variety of our physical attributes. The joy-filled cartoon illustrations pack a lot of bodies into the settings (e.g., subway car, pool, backyard barbecue) and offer plenty to consider. Each scene highlights one feature: physique, skin color, hair ("lots of hair or no hair"; "leg hair, armpit hair"), eyes ("monolids and round eyes"), tummies, legs ("roll-up-to-the-table legs"), scars ("marks-that-tell-a-story scars"), and more. The titular refrain keeps the book's message front and center.

Reviewer: Kitty Flynn

(2) PS Mira has lots of first days attempting new activities, but fear of failure prevents many second days. Take gymnastics, for example, a sport full of terrible what-if? scenarios for an anxious mind: "What if she fell? What if people laughed? What if she did it the wrong way?" Believing that everyone else is better or a "natural" talent, Mira never gives herself a chance; she accepts failure and thinks of herself as a "shadow" since she's not perfect. One day, all alone at the beach, she practices ­walking--and leaping--on a driftwood log, a makeshift balance beam. She falls but gets back up and tries again. After many more tries, "it wasn't perfect. But Mira did it." She may not be an expert, but she can still participate. Pencil, colored-pencil, and watercolor illustrations highlight the character's frustration and isolation from others. Mira appears against blue backgrounds, while pink-hued bubbles feature the activities from which she has isolated herself. The contrast between the front endpapers (stationary Mira, alone) and back ­endpapers (active Mira, part of a group) hints at growth to come. Give this book to perfectionists or to those who feel too anxious to try new things.

Reviewer: Julie Hakim Azzam | Horn Book Magazine Issue: March, 2022

(1) K-3 Illustrated by Gracey Zhang. A young girl visiting her grandmother in Japan narrates this not-so-traditional bath-time book about a very traditional and ancient Japanese custom. The narrator and her beloved baachan, along with a gaggle of aunties, take a walk to the neighborhood bath house, where they meet up with some smiling young cousins. After removing shoes and clothes, they sit on low stools by water faucets, scrub themselves clean with soap, and rinse off before gently easing themselves into the steaming hot bath with a communal "Ahhhhh." The narrator guides readers through the potentially unfamiliar rituals by clearly describing what will happen; the future tense ("The wooden sandals will be lined up and waiting") also reads like a comforting reminder of what will take place the next time she gets to visit her grandmother. The text mirrors the mood--quick rhymes describe the excitement of arriving and the fun of soaping up, then longer sentences slow down and quiet as the group walks home in the dark. Zhang's buoyant illustrations in ink, gouache, and watercolors match the water-focused story with transparent, watery hues anchored by strong black outlining. Young audiences will giggle at all the naked bodies in the book, while adults will appreciate the body-positive descriptions: "You'll all dip your bodies, / your newly sprouting, / gangly bodies, / your saggy, shapely, / jiggly bodies, / your cozy, creased, / ancient bodies. / Beautiful bodies." In an appended note, Canadian author Maclear (It Began with a Page, rev. 11/19) describes the childhood summers she spent in Japan, she and her grandmother sharing not a common language but "rituals, a sweet tooth, and a love of bathing."

Reviewer: Jennifer M. Brabander | Horn Book Magazine Issue: November, 2021

(2) PS Illustrated by Juana Martinez-Neal. More than just food, "Fry bread is time...Fry bread is art...Fry bread is history." An intergenerational group of Native American friends and family makes fry bread, a common Native food staple as varied as the people who make it; this diversity is reflected in Martinez-Neal's warmhearted illustrations. Back matter explains how fry bread became a part of many Native Americans' diet after being forced from their land and given limited U.S. government rations. Recipe appended. Bib.

Reviewer: Nicholl Denice Montgomery | Horn Book Magazine Issue: November, 2019

(1) K-3 Our narrator explains, with great enthusiasm and gusto, how "every Wednesday, we come together in this little kitchen" to prepare a communal meal for all who are hungry. Meal prep begins with "what we've got": veggies (some quite imperfect) from the urban garden; whatever's in the fridge ("OH!--Dunno what this is, but it's GOTTA GO!"); day-old bread; "beans from the food bank? Third week in a row! But it's what we've got, we'll use 'em somehow." A sense of effervescent improvisation pervades the tale, through its cookery details and the text's rhythm and design. We see frequent shifts between main text and dialogue, with speech bubbles barely containing the conversational chatter and even intersecting during "cooperative overlap" (a.k.a. interrupting). Yummy sound effects abound--the rewarding, drawn-out "Slurp" near the end contains six Ss, six Ls, four Us, five Rs, and four Ps, all uppercase and of varying sizes. The illustrations themselves, "done with a nib and ink" and colored digitally, feature sure-handed black outlines, comics-style, around characters of all ages, shapes, races, religions, abilities, and genders, each of whom exudes vibrancy, warmth, individuality, and purpose. It's no surprise that, per the appended note, the story is based on Tamaki's experiences volunteering at a community kitchen in a gentrifying neighborhood--with the joyful safe space of the dining room as succor for the longtime denizens: "See you next week!" The endpapers include recipes for vegetable soup (front) and apple crumble (back--because dessert!).

Reviewer: Elissa Gershowitz | Horn Book Magazine Issue: November, 2020

(2) K-3 In four stories, one for each season, we follow the adventures of Little Witch Hazel, a sturdy, rosy-cheeked forest dweller with a bevy of woodland friends--gnomes, fairies, trolls, owls, mice, frogs, and newts. The tales recall classic nursery stories (a rescued animal who later repays the kindness; a parade of creatures that gets longer and longer as everyone joins in a quest) and as such have just the right amount of tension for the audience. (What could be making the eerie noises coming from the hollow tree? Will Hazel become lost in a blizzard?) Apart from a pointed hat, there is nothing particularly witchy about Hazel. Rather, she seems to be a kind of community-health carer, seeing to an abandoned owl's egg, a chipmunk with a toothache, a postpartum rabbit mother. Wahl's (The Blue House, rev. 7/20) digital art, in deep earth tones, has the retro look of wood-block prints and contains plenty of details to pore over. An endpaper map of the whole of Mosswood Forest serves to remind readers of the journey just taken and the pleasures of this tight-knit neighborhood in miniature.

Reviewer: Sarah Ellis | Horn Book Magazine Issue: January, 2022