high school

Perfect Harmony

gwen — Tue, 09 Nov 2010 08:00:00 +0000

New York, New York

At the start of Perfect Harmony, a narrator tells the audience that the Acafellas, an all-male acapella singing group, have won the last eighteen high school singing competitions. What’s more, we’re told that they were the inspiration for “that show.”

Like Glee, Perfect Harmony celebrates dorkiness, this time in an elite private high school. Five male songsters—two of them grandsons of the Acafellas’ founders—are itching for their nineteenth win. The obstacle? A girl group, once called The Ladies in Red and now dubbed Lady Treble.

On the surface, the boys pooh-pooh Lady Treble’s all-out effort to triumph. “Girl groups sound tinny,” says Lassiter A. Jayson III [Robbie Collier Sublett], the Acafellas’ ostensible leader, to his mates. “Boys have a biologically fuller sound,” Simon [David Barlow] agrees.

Not surprisingly, these fighting words cement the girls’ resolve to stop the boys in their tracks. But how best to do this? Leader Melody [Dana Acheson], is a squeaky clean “good girl” who wants to emphasize the wholesome—her favorite song is “My Life Goes On in an Endless Song/How Can I Keep from Singing”—while Meghan [Kelly McCreary] wants to sex things up. New costumes, a more contemporary play list, and some risqué dance moves will ensure a win, she argues. After all, she adds, no one wants to see girls dressed “as old-fashioned mummies.”

The three remaining group members—played with abundant humor by Faryl Amadeus, Marie-France Arcilla, and Kate Morgan Chadwick—have heretofore been more comfortable taking orders than making decisions. They’re torn. Should they listen to Melody, or should they follow Meghan’s lead and develop a routine that that is bolder, sassier, and less predictable?

Yes, both male and female characters are stock roles, the “types” found in every high school, everywhere. This is not a deterrent; in fact, this recognition is what makes the play so much fun. Indeed, while the story addresses something serious—the notion that winning trumps all—it uses fifteen song and dance numbers, all of them performed faultlessly, to touch on the importance of friendship, loyalty, group-cohesion, and the ways we undermine both others and ourselves.

In addition, the injection of Botox into the vocal chords of male tenors, making them like “big, husky soprano angels,” is subtlety derided. Likewise homophobia. When JB [Jarid Faubel], the groups’ most athletic and macho member, tells the others that he kissed a boy in summer camp, it opens the door to the homoeroticism that lurks in the group’s DNA. Later, it’s part of the impetus that allows Philip Fellows V [Kobi Libii] to come out. Philip’s father, Philip Fellows IV, was initially incensed, we’re told, but he’s gotten used to the idea and now fully supports his son. The Acafellas are similarly accepting.

It’s sweet.

Perfect Harmony is light fare, charming, witty, and entertaining. Collaboratively written by playwright Grosso and a group of actors who call themselves The Essentials, the 105-minute one-act was first mounted at the 2006 Fringe Festival and had an extensive New York City run in 2008. It’s now off Broadway, with a ten-member cast that rocks the house and is laugh-out-loud funny.

That said, Perfect Harmony probably won’t make you nostalgic for the trials and tribulations of high school, but it might just have you belting out a 1980s pop song as you boogie down 42nd Street after the final curtain.

Perfect Harmony is at the Acorn Theatre, 410 West 42nd Street, through November 13. Tickets cost $49.50 and are available through Telecharge, 212.239.6200.

Written by: Eleanor J. Bader, November 9th 2010

Lynchpin #1

payal — Wed, 06 Oct 2010 00:00:00 +0000

By William Brian MacLean

RoosterTree ComicLit

You’re a bold Canadian Mr. MacLean. For your first full-length comic, Lynchpin #1, you decide to tackle sexual assault in high school, and then sent it to the Elevate Difference. You even went so far as to specifically request our uncensored assessment. Well, you asked for it.

Though you clearly had the best of intentions and appear to want to help your friend find a little justice by sharing her story with the world, you missed the mark. Your courage in tackling this very personal subject matter is astounding. Few people, and possibly even fewer men, would dare such a thing in a comic book. But the story to the many, many women and men affected by this issue is extremely triggering with no warning to them at all. Noting only lust, villainy, philosophy, heroism, survival, confession, and chewing gum as topics covered was incredibly misleading to me (though it may not be so for others). There were so many opportunities to allude to the plot line of comic before diving into it. The most obvious to me is Alanna’s (the author’s friend who is the survivor) opening frames.

As Alanna calls it, this is her true high school story, and it is the slut-shaming aspect of assault, captured here so well that, to me, makes it so true. Rarely are there fictional depictions of young women who are shown before and after an assault and how that changes their day-to-day life, most specifically here being labeled a “slut.”

From simply a visual perspective, I think the work is really strong. Your panels are incredibly well laid out and balanced in their diversity, and your illustration has a voice of its own. You just have to let it speak for itself. Your character’s Modigliani-like eyes say so much alone, don’t be afraid to depend on your art more. There is no need for you to step into the comic as a character yourself. That transgression, though seemingly personally necessary, distracts from the power of the story. Your apologies to the universe from men everywhere is only making yourself feel better.

I hope this is a sufficiently uncensored assessment for your liking.

Written by: Nicole Levitz, October 5th 2010

The Cinderella Society

alicia — Sat, 02 Oct 2010 08:00:00 +0000

By Kay Cassidy

Egmont USA

Jess Parker is the new kid and her sophomore year stunk. She was treated as an outsider and Lexy Steele was (and still is) determined to make her life a nightmare in order to get back at Jess for taking Lexy's cheerleading spot. Meanwhile, Jess is looking forward to spending the summer before her junior year hiding from Lexy, working, volunteering and going to cheer camp. Maybe just maybe, the other cheerleaders will finally accept her. However, her summer plans change when she receives an invitation to attend a meeting for a secret sisterhood, The Cinderella Society.

The Cindys are not just about makeovers, they want to do good deeds, change the world and make every girl feel confident. Jess is thrilled to be part of the group, but she still has to deal with Lexy who leads the Wickeds. The Wickeds are intent on maintaining their popularity at any cost. They want other students to feel inferior to them. It's the never ending battle of good versus evil, high school style.

At times this book can read too much like a self-help manual. The message of girl power is very strong throughout the novel and this can be both a good and a bad thing. The story and message can seem cheesy or heavy handed, but at the same time, it's a message that we don't hear often and girls need to hear it constantly. It's very much about boosting your self esteem and it's what's on the inside that counts. I was disappointed that there was the cliché of the cheerleader falling in love with the football player but at least the main character realizes it. (“Besides I was practically a walking, talking stereotype: the cheerleader drooling over the quarterback. Except I wasn't popular. At least it wasn't a total cliché.”)

Furthermore, I didn't like how hi-tech the Cindys headquarters was. The technology made the story flow better, but it also lessened the credibility of the story. I think the story could have been even more appealing if the Cindys weren’t handed everything. They had access to the most exclusive hair salons and they received free makeup, etiquette and fashion lessons. Most girls would love those opportunities, but they are expensive and rare.

Normally I don't read much chick lit but this book sounded very unique and I wanted to give it a try. When I listed it as a book for the Chick Lit Challenge, I stated that I wasn't sure if I would review because I didn't know if there were any POC in it, and I don’t review books on my blog if there are no people of color in it. Ms. Cassidy commented that she was glad I was reading her book for the challenge and that it was multicultural. I was skeptical, what if our definitions of multicultural were different and she only had the token black friend? Well I was very wrong and in this case I loved being proven wrong. One of the co-captains, Kyra, is half Cuban; other members of the Cindys are Indian and African American.

The cultural background of the characters should not be a big deal, as Ms. Cassidy could have easily not mentioned the cultural background of her characters by simply stating that the Cinderella Society accepts everyone. But I think that people of color like myself would have assumed that everyone was white (it's what we've sadly become used to), so I was ecstatic that the various cultures were mentioned.

The Cinderella Society is a fun and inspiring novel that is quite innovative. It is mindful of Ms Cassidy to not exclude the Reggies (regular kids) from the Cindys vs. Wickeds. The Wickeds are not 100% bad, the Cindys not 100% good while the Reggies have the potential to be more powerful than both groups. This keeps the book from seeming too elitist or unrealistic. It is, to me, feminist and fun (how often do those two words go together in today's society?).

I look forward to learning more about the Wickeds, discovering what Jess sees in her love interest Ryan, and the ultimate battle between good and evil—high school style. I finished this book wanting to be a Cindy and that's the greatest power this book has. I'm convinced that it will inspire girls regardless of cultural or economic background to be a Cindy, too. As cheesy as it sounds this book does send the message that all girls can be Cindys.

Written by: Ari Reading in Color, October 2nd 2010

Toe to Toe

brittany — Fri, 01 Oct 2010 08:00:00 +0000

Directed by Emily Abt

Strand Releasing

Toe to Toe was part of the official selection of the 2009 Sundance Film Festival. The story is simple: Jesse and Tosha are both lacrosse players at a Washington, D.C. prep school and although they seem predestined to be rivals, they become the best of friends. Each girl is completely different from each other. Jesse (Louisa Krause) is the wealthy yet lonely and promiscuous daughter of detached parents with Daddy issues. Tosha (Sonequa Martin) is the minority with a background of financial hardship but driven by her ambition of acquiring an Ivy League education on a full scholarship.

At first glance, the film could appear forced and stereotypical; unfortunately, that’s exactly what it turns out to be. There’s enough teenage drama to fill the entire four years of high school. Jesse and Tosha are faced with issues regarding STDs, harassment, racial conflicts, and everything in between. Add to that the dramatic suspense of being part of an athletic team and you have the basis for the movie. There’s a heavy use of socio-economic clichés and an especially artificial climax that almost obscures everything else about the movie.

At other times, though, the protagonists’ acting chops shine through and the movie becomes enjoyable. Both performances are well balanced. Krause manages to portray a promiscuous but self-aware character while Martin has enough poise and restraint to make her character vulnerable and relatable.

The movie’s setting is also quite enjoyable; the scenes outside the prep school and in the actual city are lively and more realistic. This is due to the fact that they were shot with local musical talent. The protagonists seem to feed from the city’s energy and only magnified their charisma and talent.

Yet, in a movie that seems so contrived it doesn’t seem enough to carry it through. Toe to Toe didn’t surpass being bland.

Written by: Jessica Sánchez, October 1st 2010

Easy A

mandy — Thu, 23 Sep 2010 16:00:00 +0000

Directed by Will Gluck

Screen Gems

Remember when Superbad was released and everyone was freaking out about what a great teen film it was? Did you wonder why the story didn't include the ways girls break the rules in high school? I did. But the film did have a minor yet interesting female role, Jules, who was made memorable by the candid humor of newcomer Emma Stone. In Easy A, Stone effortlessly tackles her first starring role, and presents a realistic story of teenage identity, friendship, and the challenges of self-discovery.

Olive is a smart and funny, albeit socially invisible, high school student. After being badgered for details about her weekend by her potty-mouthed best friend, Olive lies about losing her virginity to an imaginary guy. One lie leads to another and soon Olive is supposedly sleeping with half the school—mostly misfits and outcasts excluded for being gay, fat, or anything else that doesn’t align with the heteronormative high school experience. Emboldened by her reputation, Olive embraces martyrdom and actively plays into the role she’s inherited. She hypersexualizes her wardrobe and stitches a scarlet letter “A” to her chest. However, while the reputations of the fellas she claims to have provided favors to blossom from the fruits of imaginary intercourse, Olive’s life becomes more complicated and lonely.

Eschewing just enough raunch to earn a PG-13 rating, first-time screenwriter Burt V. Royal’s script subtly navigates the tenuous relationship between reputation and reality, while attempting to leave its protagonist with agency. One brief yet poignant scene calls into question teen dating violence, male privilege, and the commodification of the female body. The painful relevance of these moments is cushioned by the accessibility of the dialogue and Stone’s fearless goofiness.

Director Will Gluck could have easily relied on his leading lady’s searing wit and deadpan delivery to carry the film; instead, he enabled Stone's performance with a dynamic supporting cast of positive, if flawed, role models. As Olive’s trusting yet concerned parents, Patricia Clarkson and Stanley Tucci offer consistent comic relief, and Thomas Hayden Church and Lisa Kudrow make welcome returns to the big screen as faculty members battling their own deviant behavior.

Stone is also equally matched by her peers. Amanda Bynes’ ironically pious villain is a refreshing turn away from the predictable good girls of her past, and Gossip Girl’s Penn Badgley is an adorable reminder of the exciting innocence of first love.

The bottom line is you either like teen movies or you don’t. If you’re like me, or my friend Sabrina who sat next to me squealing every time John Hughes was referenced, you grew up with the teen classics of the eighties and spent your twenties believing that quirky outcasts, like Pretty in Pink’s Andie, transcend high school politics, and Mr. Right is a unique hybrid of Lloyd Dobbler, John Bender, and Happy Harry Hard-On. With Olive, Gluck and Royal have given a new generation of female viewers a different kind of teen fantasy: the girl they want to become instead of the boy they want to date. This makes Easy A a teen film representative of its time.

Written by: Alicia Sowisdral, September 23rd 2010

Not that Kind of Girl

admin — Wed, 01 Sep 2010 16:00:00 +0000

By Siobhan Vivian

Push

Painting people into camps is really easy to do: either they’re good or bad, respected or mocked, smart or silly. For Natalie, high school—and life—is a pretty simple game of either/or. And she knows what she is: she’s a senior. She’s student council president. She’s going places. There’s no room for the other side, and definitely no room for the myriad shades of gray that make up the vast middle. Not That Kind Of Girl opens up with Natalie recounting a story that’s become legend at her private school, Ross Academy.

It’s a story about a freshman girl who started dating a senior boy, and when she wasn’t ready for anything too physical, he ruined her reputation, and changed her life. Natalie uses that true story as one of the reasons why she has chosen to just opt out completely. After all, if she doesn’t play the game, there’s no chance at losing it. And she’s got her eye on the future—even if that means missing out on some of the present.

Natalie’s steadfast resolve is threatened by the new crop of freshmen girls, though, who are led by her former babysitting charge. Spencer is brazen, overtly sexual, and totally in charge of her life. But when her antics get her in trouble, Natalie decides to take her under her wing and show her—and the rest of the so-called Rosstitutes—what self-respect means. Natalie was sure she was going to teach the freshman girls a thing or two about how to thrive at Ross Academy, and how to rise above the misogyny and sexism that run rampant through the hallways. But instead, they start teaching her lessons—the hard way.

Throw in a deep attraction to one of the very boys Natalie is railing against, and you’ve got yourself a classic high school story with a feminist twist. I loved this book. Siobhan Vivian is a master at the contemporary high school scene (see her other works, like Same Difference, to understand) and this latest release further demonstrates her skills at depicting the blacks, whites, and grays of teenage life.

I’ve been Natalie—in both the good and the bad ways—and I was pleasantly surprised to see how she grew and changed throughout the story. Her thinking about high school relationships feels simplistic, but is actually quite nuanced, and the differences between her and Spencer, and her and her best friend, illustrate how complicated male-female dynamics are, especially in a contemporary high school, where the playing field is never level and the responses are never entirely fair.

The supporting cast of characters feel like they were handpicked from my own high school memories—the entitled, demeaning jock; the young teacher eager to leave her mark; the best friend who turns out to be different from what you thought—and I found myself gripped by the fast-moving plot, which spanned a year in the life of Ross Academy. There are no mermaids, sirens, vampires, or ghosts in this book. But there is a striking, gorgeous high school reality—straight up and dirty. Embrace it.

Written by: Morgan @ yaReads, September 1st 2010

The Carrie Diaries

admin — Sun, 18 Jul 2010 08:00:00 +0000

By Candace Bushnell

Balzer and Bray

Sex and the City the television series ended six years ago. One might find this hard to believe, considering the characters and the lavish lifestyles they live have been far from gone in the mainstream media. The latest installment in the SATC enterprise is The Carrie Diaries, author Candace Bushnell’s young-adult novel that introduces audiences to Carrie Bradshaw as they’ve never seen her before—seventeen, virginal, and unsure of how to fulfill her dream becoming a writer. The young Bradshaw struggles through adolescence the same way her adult self struggled through her thirties, and with just as much, if not more, wit and insight. It’s easy to see how Carrie became Carrie as Bushnell chronicles a very real, and entertaining, teenage experience using the skills we’ve come to know her for: realistic dialogue, relatable, yet flawed, friendships; and capturing the excitement and emotion the first moments of love.

As a feminist scholar and critic, and an advocate for girl-friendly media, I was plagued by very familiar annoyances in the reading. Although adult Carrie admits in SATC (season four, episode seventeen) that her father left when she was a toddler, Bushnell posits high-school Carrie as the eldest of three girls being raised by their father since their mother died a few years earlier. Although a single dad raising three young women is certainly an alternative to the status-quo, it is not more or less feminist than a mother working full time and raising three daughters. And in the case of the latter, it provides something very important missing in both fiction and film—positive female role models.

The debate over Bushnell’s characters and their choices has been raging since the debut of the original series. In The Carrie Diaries, the author offers her own feminist commentary that is neither subtle, nor convincing. In a chapter dedicated to Carrie’s discovery of feminism, the twelve-year-old visits her local library to see her mother's favorite (fictional) feminist Mary Gordon Clark speak. The young Bradshaw is chagrined by the woman’s gruff and judgmental manner, leaving her to ponder “How can you be a feminist when you treat other women like dirt?” An excellent question, though I’d be interested in asking Bushnell “Why all feminists must be represented as angry, elite meanies?”

Unlike her adult counterpart, whose friendships offered support, honesty and resilience in the face of obstacles, the high school Carrie is surrounded by a group of friends that are competitive, highly emotional, or just plain bitchy. Her most passionate moments include falling for a narcissistic but gorgeous guy who eventually cheats on her with her best friend, developing her voice as a writer with the support of the Brown-attending George, and eventually being published in the school paper, with the help and support of the paper’s editor—her friend’s boyfriend.

As lover of pop-culture and an advocate for media literacy among the youth, especially girls, I was encouraged to find the positive elements of a story that will surely resonate with a large audience. Although Carrie’s mother is absent in reality, she is ever present in the lives of her daughters, all of which are struggling to maintain her legacy while evolving into who they will be as individuals. The biting yet quirky humor that endeared me to Carrie on SATC punctuates the tensest moments in the novel as Carrie offers teen-appropriate insights like, “Funny always makes the bad things go away.”

Unfortunately, comparing the young Carrie to the character she became on the series leaves me no less than disappointed. The Carrie created here comes out an evolved and matured being, moving forward into the next phase of her life, something that was remiss of her character when the SATC series ended, and further exacerbated in the following two films. In fact, I’d favor a film version of The Carrie Diaries over both SATC films.

Written by: Alicia Sowisdral, July 18th 2010

Off and Running

admin — Tue, 30 Mar 2010 16:01:00 +0000

Directed by Nicole Opper

First Run Features

Considering the number of children in need of adoption—and the number of children who are actually adopted each year—it's surprising there aren't more adoption stories being told. Aside from The Locator, we've had especially limited access to stories about adopted children reaching out to their birth parents. The delicate, vulnerable position of someone sending a letter out into the world, waiting and hoping to hear back about where they come from, is still a bit of a mystery, and more than worthwhile. In fact, I knew little about it until my own adopted mother finally reached out to her birth parents at age fifty-six.

Not only is that seminal search a matter of discovering identity for the adoptee; it is, potentially, a matter of deep-seated tension between the child and her adoptive parents. My mother actually waited until both of my grandparents had passed before seeking her own answers, to avoid the risk of hurting them.

Nicole Opper's Off and Running provides a candid, thoughtful portrait of such a situation in all its complexities. The documentary follows Avery Klein-Cloud, a charismatic star high school athlete from Brooklyn, who attempts to continue living the life she and her adoptive parents carved out for her while waiting on correspondence from her birth mother. The fact that Avery is trans-racially adopted—the African American daughter to two White Jewish mothers—makes her quest for identity that much more significant.

At the beginning of the film, Avery frankly admits her persistent discomfort in Black social spheres growing up, and later, when a counselor asks, “Do you feel Black?,” Avery says she doesn't know what that means. Her brother Rafi, also adopted but of mixed race, provides an interesting contrast; not only does he seem to have little interest in contacting his birth parents, but he seems entirely unconcerned with his origins. At the very least, he doesn't seem as dependent on where he came from for a sense of self.

Still, Avery's bravery in her search for answers is admirable, and considering how obviously torn she is about her particular situation, she is incredibly forthcoming and self-aware. We get an unexpected amount of access to her private thoughts and feelings about what she's going through, often things that she doesn't even share with her mothers. But as the tension in the Klein-Cloud household escalates, Opper seems to pull back and even gloss over certain pivotal incidents, like a falling out between Avery and her parents that results in her moving out for a period. Opper barely addresses an abortion Avery decides to get when an unwanted pregnancy threatens to impede her track career. In fact, this part of the story is so glossed over that I wasn't entirely sure that it happened.

In the end, Avery's coming of age—and to terms with the fact that she may never meet her birth mother—feels undeserved though still inspiring. Perhaps the fact that Opper has a personal relationship with the family (she was one of Avery's teachers in middle school) can account for her trepidation in handling such sensitive issues. But her reluctance does take away from the moral lesson of the film: that adopted children need to stand by those who've cared for them and showed them support every step of the way, which, in this case, is Avery's unconventional but extraordinary family.

Written by: Caitlin Graham, March 30th 2010

Off and Running

admin — Wed, 17 Feb 2010 01:00:00 +0000

Directed by Nicole Opper

First Run Features

Off and Running is a very non-traditional coming-of-age story told in a way that deftly conveys one young woman’s unique situation as well as more universal themes. Filmmaker Nicole Opper was afforded intimate access to her subjects, which enabled her to invite the viewer to take a sensitive and warm perspective as the events unfold.

The film’s central subject, a high school track star named Avery Klein-Cloud, is honest and likable. Her story, though specifically about interracial and intercultural adoption, asks questions that many young adults often don’t dare ask aloud. Avery introduces us to her family of white Jewish lesbian mothers and adopted brothers from multi-racial backgrounds during the Jewish festival of Chanukah. At the start of the film, she speaks very matter-of-factly about her decision to attempt to contact her birth mother during her junior year of high school. The significance of this year will be clear to those who have attended school in the U.S.—this is the year that standardized tests and sports results can affect college choices and scholarship options— not a year to be taken lightly. Avery begins to feel the strain, yet perseveres in her quest to find out more about her biological family and reconcile this aspect of her identity with her, at first, seemingly incongruous upbringing.

Along the way, we get to know her adoptive mothers and adopted siblings who all share a similar ‘tell it like it is’ vibe when speaking about serious issues with warmth and humour. Avery meets her old friends from her Jewish elementary school in scenes that further contextualise her upbringing. Filmed chats with another adopted young woman of colour raised by Jewish parents are natural and open—inviting the viewer in and allowing us to experience something we might never have seen otherwise. We also see Avery training for and competing in track meets supported by her long-term boyfriend, and getting to know African American culture with a group of high school friends. She is truly a professional and takes her sport seriously.

What makes this story all the more poignant is that her desire for more contact with her birth mother thwarts her progress in athletics and is detrimental to her relationships within her family. Although there are unexpected developments in this story, Opper maintains a strong, real narrative that shows a complete picture of the desires and feelings on all sides in this family. Opper’s choice to conclude the story the following autumn during the Jewish New Year, Rosh Hashanah is culturally and narratively satisfying.

I found myself empathizing with everyone, which is a testament to the director’s craft. Each of Avery’s brothers shares opinions about her quest, and though one brother is a Princeton freshman and the other is a second-grader, Opper affords them equal screen time in well-framed sequences. Avery’s mothers receive the same fair treatment, and disagreements on screen never feel voyeuristic or melodramatic. There are many television shows aiming for this level of intimacy and family drama. All pale in comparison to Off and Running. Opper has done a great service to this genre, allowing me to reinvest in it as an audience member.

The film looks good as well—kudos to director of photography Jacob Akira Okada and editor Cheree Dillon. Thankfully, there is no voice-over narration, or even excessive exposition: occasional captions show the passage of time. A sympathetic and unobtrusive soundtrack by Daniel Bernard Roumain gives the film even greater depth. Home movie footage and a few still photos provided by this very honest and dignified family round out the story visually.

Feminist? Yes. This is a true story about a young, Jewish, African-American woman who knows her own mind, stands by her decisions, and learns from her mistakes. Unusually, but very successfully, Avery Klein-Cloud co-wrote the film and has actively supported the production process. I’m sure others who see this original documentary will join me in routing for Avery’s and the film’s continued success.

Written by: Chella Quint, February 16th 2010

Ballads of Suburbia

admin — Sun, 13 Dec 2009 17:03:00 +0000

By Stephanie Kuehnert

MTV Books

It’s strange to find yourself feeling nostalgic about a time that you absolutely hated. I’m obviously not alone when I say that middle and high school weren’t the best times of my life; while I had friends and family that I cared about a lot and vice versa, everything else often seemed like a total mess. Looking back on it with a few years distance, I can say that I blew things out of proportion, overreacted, was irrational in my words and decisions. In short, I was your stereotypical teenage girl.

Stephanie Kuehnert’s second novel, Ballads of Suburbia, brought me right back to those heady, mid-90s days of endless troubles and tears. Kara has left her Illinois home for college in California, and comes back in Christmas 1999, wary about facing her demons, but knowing she has to. We get Kara’s story—one of teenage love, drugs, and intense pain—through flashbacks, as she remembers her past while visiting for the first time. There are some absolutely heartbreaking scenes, as Kara and her friends deal with hard drug use, depressive and suicidal thoughts, and domestic abuse: things we know teenagers deal with, but is rarely written as bluntly as in Kuehnert’s book.

The device that ties the book together is the titular collection of ballads (in the traditional sense, Kara is sure to assert, of a story-song) that Kara and her friends put together to exorcise their demons. Every main character in the novel writes their ballad, the story of something in their lives that made them who they are, for better or for worse, in a notebook. That Kara eventually is able to take the stories and make something wonderful out of them is a testament to the strength of the character, and the redemptive power of writing itself.

Kuehnert’s characters reside in Oak Park, a northern Chicago suburb, and an area that is familiar to Kuehnert, as she lives in a Chicago suburb and received her MFA from Columbia College. The familiarity and seemingly love/hate relationship with the area are obvious in the novel, as the setting is wonderfully described, from the park where Kara and her friends go to smoke and skate, to grungy basement parties, to the unbearable places Kara and her friends call home. The mid-90s setting and allusions to grunge and punk music endeared themselves to me, and produced that intense sense of nostalgia, especially when Kuehnert describes driving around with the music as loud as possible, screaming along to your favorite songs.

Although I never had quite the amount of trouble that Kara and her friends did, there is still a thread that binds us together, and made me appreciate the novel as both a reminder and a cautionary tale. Please note: the novel features somewhat graphic descriptions of drug use and self-mutilation that some might find triggering.

Written by: Dana Reinoos, December 13th 2009

Perfect Chemistry

admin — Thu, 29 Oct 2009 16:01:00 +0000

By Simone Elkeles

Walker & Company

I can pinpoint exactly where I fell for the charms of Simone Elkeles’ Perfect Chemistry due to the disappearance of my “reflective” notes in the margins: Chapter eleven. Page sixty-seven. The initial sixty-seven pages were rather laborious, as my first reaction was that it was going to be another predictable American teen novel and—to an extent—it was. Boy meets girl at school. They both proclaim their hatred for one another. Boy makes a bet to woo said girl. They both fall in love. Remind you of 10 Things I Hate About You, anyone?

It does, however, prove to be a perfect formula for a story line Take one test tube, add a dose of Stephenie Meyer’s Twilight to a teaspoon of Romeo and Juliet, and you have an explosive plot.

The story deals with the cultural differences between high school teen Brittany Ellis, the perfect blonde cheerleader, and her chemistry classmate Alex Fuentes, a Mexican gang leader from the other side of town. Despite initial appearances, they both realize their appearances are merely façades, and aim to break the stereotyping molds they’ve been forced into. They then realize that, despite their initial reservations, they have more in common than they thought.

At times the plot delves into the ridiculous, and the dialogue and events can seem a bit tacky, but yet I still loved it and literally devoured the book in hours. Touching on themes of disabilities, racism and teenage insecurities, Elkeles’ narrative has more depth to it than at first glance. However, with crude language and gang violence, it’s a story for older teens (so it’s not quite in the slushy league of Twilight...) that adults can dip into without feeling guilty.

Perfect Chemistry displays a modern kind of feminism, whereby the main female protagonist enters a journey of realization and transition, as highlighted by the steady and gradual control she takes over her own life—concerning both her relationships with friends and the way in which she respects her own body.

Written by: Emily Ray, October 29th 2009

The Girls

admin — Sat, 25 Jul 2009 16:32:00 +0000

By Tucker Shaw

Amulet

The Girls is a modern chick lit version of The Women by Clare Boothe Luce. This book, like that classic play, is made especially interesting because boys are talked about, but not featured as active characters! In this modern version, girl-next-door Peggy enrolls at an upper-crust Aspen prep school and finds herself way out of her league. She is intimidated by the seeming perfection of her roommate Mary, who is beautiful, popular, and the girlfriend of a wealthy hotelier's son. She is intimidated by Sylvia, the constantly color-coordinated, gossip-saavy diva of the school. And she is intimidated by the town of Aspen, which is filled with overpriced lattes and celebrity sightings.

Peggy finds herself in a moral dilemma when she overhears Amber, the local coffee shop’s barista, claiming that Mary’s boyfriend Stephen is cheating on her with a local salesgirl. Should Peggy tell Mary and hurt her feelings and possibly her relationship over what could be gossip? Or should she stay silent and possibly betray her friend? The choice is made no easier by the fact that Sylvia has also overheard, and could potentially relay the news to Mary before Peggy does, possibly usurping the roommate’s friendship.

As Peggy wrestles with the decision, she goes to the shop to see the salesgirl in question and overhears some incriminating evidence. When Mary must confront the crisis, unfortunately Sylvia has joined Peggy as her support system. However, we see a more vulnerable Sylvia as she begins to share in the girls’ weekly grilled cheese confidences. And soon the girls team up to confront cheating boyfriends. As The Girls ends, various characters pop up, seemingly out of nowhere, and join the drama, hurling accusations at one another’s boyfriends. The plot dissolves into a series of catfights, which are fun but shallow. Luckily, the book is made interesting by its setting, Colorado (refreshing to see snobbery outside of NY/LA!) and by the prominent role which food plays in the narrative. It is supremely refreshing to see a young female narrator (Peggy) who sees food as neither an enemy nor a savior, but rather a creative medium. Throughout the book, Peggy deals with stress by zoning out and creating elaborate and fanciful recipes in her mind. A responsible young woman who provides a centered view of the dramatized girly events around her, the narrator is skillful and inventive at her job as a chef’s assistant in a hip Aspen restaurant. She clearly has talent, passion, and creativity. As a plus, Tucker Shaw, himself a food journalist, includes some of the yummy recipes at the back of the book!

Written by: Elizabeth F.A. Meaney, July 25th 2009

My Brain Hurts: Volume One

admin — Sat, 19 Apr 2008 03:11:00 +0000

By Liz Baillie

Microcosm Publishing

Liz Baillie’s character Kate Callahan is everything that I wish I had been in school, as well as everything that I’m glad I wasn’t: a punk dyke; Mohawk-wearing, patches held on with safety pins-styling, multiple girlfriends-loving activist; and all-around New York City street-roamer. Think Diane DiMassa’s _Hothead Paisan _before she turned homicidal and got a cat. You could say that Kate’s a homicidal lesbian terrorist in the making—and in a good way, too.

While these character traits can be admirable in young queer activists, Kate is, at times, a little too rebellious for her own good, as she constantly teeters on the edge of getting kicked out of school. I’m inspired by Kate’s spirit, but I’m also aware of the grown-up in me telling me not to mess up my life. These are the complex reasons why I’m in love with My Brain Hurts.

Baillie’s drawings of Kate and her high school life are descriptive, ratty, fun, and what make up the intensity of story. A graphic novel compilation of the first five zines in Baillie’s series of the same name is both a harsh reminder of how difficult high school can be for queer youth, but the stories can also be a best friend for someone currently going through that struggle.

Aside from the rich drawings and Kate’s engaging personality, Baillie’s cast of characters is also amazing: Kate’s way-gay best friend Joey is fabulously flamboyant in a true but not mocking way, Desi is the Latina activist who can sway a crowd better than Barack Obama, and Verona is the older woman (yeah, she’s sixteen, and that’s old in this thirteen-year-old crowd) who digs polyamory. Through chugging 40’s and adventurous games of spin-the-bottle, Kate finds her sexuality in a tangle of identity confusion. Underlying this youthful narrative is a political beat that keeps a steady rhythm on each enjoyable page. My Brain Hurts is a great series for queer youth and older queer activists to relish together.

Written by: Chelsey Clammer, April 18th 2008

Foreign Exposure: The Social Climber Abroad

admin — Mon, 28 May 2007 12:57:00 +0000

By Lauren Mechling, Laura Moser

Graphia

Lauren Mechling and Laura Moser’s third book in the Social Climber series finds the 10th grade heroine, Miriam “Mimi” Schulman, spending a summer in Europe, continuing her high school journalistic exploits. The popularity of the series is evident in the relatable characters. Complete with excerpts from email correspondence, the “realness” of the characters mixed with the glamour of the narrative makes an excellent foray into youths’ pleasure reading.

The plot takes the reader through Mimi’s summer travels. First, she goes to Berlin to partake in a dysfunctional relationship with her professor mother and her mother’s boyfriend. After undergoing nanny hell taking care of two eight-year-old twin boys, who are allergic to everything under the sun, Mimi flees Berlin by herself (and unbeknownst to her mother) to a safe haven of a high school friend named Lily staying in London. There, Mimi interns at a gossip magazine, thanks to Lily’s rich and powerful connections. Through a series of mishaps, boy attraction and moral dilemmas, Mimi manages to run away from some problems while resolving others.

An easy read and generally well-written, I recommend this book with some caveats. First, the dialogue of all British characters is often stilted and awkward. Although it is written from an American perspective, the awkwardness can be distracting at some points. Second, from a feminist perspective the story does little to address ideas of empowerment, solidarity or accountability. As part of a young adult a genre, I understand the book’s aim to create a glamorous yet believable plot. At the same time, most of the character development and plot turns focus on Mimi’s relationships with boys. Even though most of the book takes place in Europe, it begins and ends with her contemplations about the boys and men that surround her at home. This makes me wonder, why did Mimi need to take a trip to Europe? While Mimi’s flight from Berlin was an impressive feat of youthful female independence, “girl power” even, the jet-set, upper-crust context just reinforces the notion that the only way for girls to pursue their dreams is through men and money.

I wish I could recommend this book more enthusiastically, since there are many elements of it that are charming and likeable. However, it does very little to stretch or challenge the young adult genre for young women, and comes across as superficial overall. While I can understand its appeal to teenage girls, parents and librarians might have to supplement it with more empowering and complex fare.

Written by: k. terumi shorb, May 28th 2007