For many kids, there’s nothing better than hitting the field or stepping on a stage; the opportunity to perform is often empowering, rewarding, and just plain fun. But it can also be fraught, as the titular character of Derrick Barnes’ novel The Incredibly Human Henson Blaze (Viking, September 23) discovers. Football is king in Great Mountain, Mississippi, and Henson is the heir apparent, joining the high school team despite still being in middle school. The mostly white townspeople shower Henson with favors, which amuses and bemuses the Black eighth grader, who’s nevertheless thrilled to play in his first game with the Midnight Marauders. But at halftime, he learns that his best friend, Menkah, has been beaten by cops, and he announces to the spectators that he’ll be leaving to see his younger friend in the hospital. In an instant, his adoring public’s admiration turns to disappointment and rage, and Henson goes from idol to pariah.
Barnes has crafted a rich portrait of a youngster torn between his love of the game and his disillusionment with it. As Barnes points out in his author’s note, performance often has a dark side for Black athletes and artists. Citing Colin Kaepernick, Tommie Smith, and John Carlos—athletes who were blackballed after speaking truth to power—he urges Black children not to sell their souls: “You do not exist…to simply entertain America.”
As several other new middle-grade works affirm, young people have more value than just their athletic or artistic prowess. The protagonist of Andrea Beatriz Arango’s It’s All or Nothing, Vale (Random House, February 11) has devoted her life to fencing, but after sustaining a leg injury in a motorbike accident, she struggles to stay competitive and slowly realizes that her devotion to the sport is a double-edged sword. Winning has been everything for Vale, but does she genuinely love fencing, or has she been living out the ambitions of her Mami and Papi? Arango’s intense, fast-moving free verse roils with emotion as Vale carves out a sense of self apart from the sport, grapples with what it might mean to consider herself disabled, and falls for a fellow fencer.
While Vale is buoyed on her journey by supportive family and friends, she would have found another sympathetic ear in Flor, the main character of Yamile Saied Méndez’s The Reel Wish (Tu Books, April 22). Flor is cast as Clara in The Nutcracker—the first Latina in her ballet company’s history to play the part—but pressure from her harsh teacher and her mother gets to her, and after she has a panic attack on opening night, the role is recast. Without ballet, Flor spirals, but her world eventually expands as she makes new friends, sees a therapist for her anxiety, and begins taking Irish dance lessons. With this layered novel, Méndez unpacks some complex truths: Pursuing a passion can be enriching but also constricting, and sometimes stepping back from a beloved hobby offers us the opportunity to discover who we truly are.
Mahnaz Dar is a young readers’ editor.
