THE OCEAN WOULD PAINT ME BLUE

A teen finds art, love, and resistance amid loss and despair.

Jihad Dabbagh, a Syrian American Muslim teen living in Queens, comes from a legacy of women known for “blessings that brush the line between reality and magic.” Jihad perceives the emotions emanating from the colors of people, plants, and objects, but after her mother’s death from cancer, she’s trapped in emotional stasis with her father, unable to grieve and seeing everything in gray. Jihad’s dreams of escaping to San Francisco to attend the Opus School of Art are the only thing keeping her afloat. But Baba, hoping to give her a better shot at NYU, enrolls her in an elite private school for her senior year. There, Jihad faces Islamophobia, microaggressions, and even outright violence, all while shrinking and trying to make herself “palatable.” Jamie Murphy, who’s white and Vietnamese, becomes a source of consistent kindness; his quiet empathy and understanding of Islam set him apart. When Jihad uncovers a sketchbook hidden in her mother’s vanity, she begins drawing again. Her drawings appear in the real world as murals, drawing public attention, and color slowly returns, even as she wrestles with the guilt of moving on. Jihad’s self-erasure and gradual reclamation of her confidence resonate deeply, and Katouh renders the bullying she endures with honesty. The portrayals of Syrian American identity, Muslim faith, and diaspora experiences are authentic and lyrical, and Jihad and Jamie’s relationship, rooted in shared longing and cultural questioning, is tender and well-paced.

Devastating and luminous.