Black boy joy 17 stories celebrating Black boyhood

Book - 2021

From seventeen acclaimed Black male and nonbinary authors comes a vibrant collection of stories, comics, and poems about the power of joy and the wonders of Black boyhood.

Saved in:

Children's Room Show me where

jFICTION/Black
2 / 2 copies available
Location Call Number   Status
Children's Room jFICTION/Black Checked In
Children's Room jFICTION/Black Checked In
Subjects
Genres
Literature
Published
New York : Delacorte Press [2021]
Language
English
Other Authors
B. B. Alston (author)
Edition
First edition
Physical Description
296 pages : illustrations ; 22 cm
ISBN
9780593379936
9780593379943
  • The griot of Grover Street: part one / by Kwame Mbalia
  • There's going to be a fight in the cafeteria on Friday and you better not bring Batman / by Lamar Giles
  • "The McCoy game" / by B. B. Alston
  • The legendary Lawrence Cobbler / by Julian Winters
  • First-day fly / by Jason Reynolds
  • Got me a jet pack / by Don P. Hooper
  • Extinct / by Dean Atta
  • Epic venture / by Jay Coles
  • The definition of cool / by Varian Johnson
  • The griot of Grover Street: part two / by Kwame Mbalia
  • Five thousand light-years to home / by Suyi Davies Okungbowa
  • Coping / by Tochi Onyebuchi
  • The gender reveal / by George M. Johnson
  • Kassius's foolproof guide to losing the turkey bowl / by Davaun Sanders
  • But also, jazz / by Julian Randall
  • Our dill / by Justin A. Reynolds
  • Percival and the jab / by P. Djèlí Clark
  • Embracing my Black boy joy / by Jerry Craft
  • The griot of Grover Street: part three / by Kwame Mbalia.
Review by Booklist Review

According to Gary the Griot, joy is cultivated through stories, and it is to be shared and distributed to the masses. That is exactly what he teaches his successor, young Fortitude, as they embark on a journey to collect Black boy joy. A collection of short stories aimed at middle-graders, this title offers a fierce lineup of 17 Black male and nonbinary authors exploring what exactly it means to exist as a Black boy (or person) without a hyperfocus on the inescapable pains of Black life in America. The contributors offer a warm embrace of the plurality of Blackness, with stories spanning from intergalactic world-saving to expressing one's true gender identity and from whipping up tantalizing dessert recipes, to the process behind getting first-day-of-school fly, just to describe a few. All the while, Mbalia lovingly connects the stories through his three-part contribution, "The Griot of Grover Street." Though the title and cover may convince you otherwise, it is important to note that this book doesn't shy away from sadness, fear, or anger; what sets it apart, however, is that the stories are predicated upon joy. In a world where Black boys' stories are often tragedies, statistics, and stereotypes, this work surely reclaims ownership over the boldness, creativity, and wholeness they possess. A great addition to a classroom collection and an even better family read; pick up Black Boy Joy for a heavy dose of happiness.

From Booklist, Copyright (c) American Library Association. Used with permission.
Review by Publisher's Weekly Review

This luminous middle-grade anthology edited by Mbalia (the Tristan Strong series) features 17 stories by as many Black male and nonbinary authors focusing on Black boys' happiness. Mbalia kicks off the magic with "The Griot of Grover Street," in which a boy takes a leap of faith to an unknown place guided by an eccentric elder. In "There's Going to Be a Fight in the Cafeteria on Friday and You Better Not Bring Batman," Lamar Giles presents a superhero-loving child who embraces a rich range of superheroes with the help of his family, while Varian Johnson offers a lesson in championing individuality in "The Definition of Cool." And Julian Winters's "The Legendary Lawrence Cobbler" combines baking with a touching coming-out revelation that brings a family closer together and emphasizes the significance of intergenerational bonds. Filtering perennial subjects such as friendships, gender identity, and family through the lenses of magic, science, space travel, superheroes, and more, this is an exuberant celebration of carefree Black experiences; while it will especially resonate with Black readers, any reader will appreciate how this genre-bending collection expands the horizons of what joy for Black boys can be. Ages 9--12. Agent: Patrice Caldwell, New Leaf Literary & Media. (Aug.)

(c) Copyright PWxyz, LLC. All rights reserved
Review by School Library Journal Review

Gr 3--7--It can be challenging to find resonant books for middle grade Black boys that reflect the diversity of their experiences. A solution is right here with this excellent anthology. This exuberant collection runs the gamut, featuring prose and verse with illustrations from 17 Black male and nonbinary creators. Contributors include authors across a variety of youth literature genres, such as Jason Reynolds, Tochi Onyebuchi, Dean Atta, and Julian Winters. The stories themselves are short enough to appeal to reluctant readers and address all kinds of topics, from losing a close relative to saving the galaxy to getting injured doing a sport and the first day of school. Relationships and connection are the throughlines that render these seemingly disparate stories a cohesive whole. No matter if readers are into music, art, sports, church, or fantastical adventure, there is something in this book that they will connect with. VERDICT This book is a must-have in every collection for its variety of topics and its celebration of Black boyhood in all its forms.--Michelle Kornberger, Havenview M.S., Memphis

(c) Copyright Library Journals LLC, a wholly owned subsidiary of Media Source, Inc. No redistribution permitted.
Review by Horn Book Review

This short story collection, edited by 2020 CSK honoree Mbalia (for Tristan Strong Punches a Hole in the Sky, rev. 7/20), makes it clear that Black boyhood is something to celebrate, starting with Kadir Nelson's beautiful cover portrait depicting a smiling Black boy, with the book's title in glittering gold letters above him. The volume opens with a story by Mbalia, in which Fortitude (Fort) Jones is attending his aunt Netta's funeral. Overwhelmed, Fort leaves the church and accidentally runs into the eccentric Gary the Griot (Mr. G). In the crash, Mr. G's mysterious "joy jar" is broken. Fort agrees to help refill the jar -- and finds himself on an intergalactic journey to find joy. The seventeen stories represent that joy as the authors and illustrators -- all Black men, including Jason Reynolds, Jerry Craft, and Varian Johnson -- present readers with a diverse representation of Black boyhood. The boys are from the United States, Nigeria, and the Caribbean. Their use of language is representative of where they are from. They are straight and gay. Some are cisgender, while others are gender nonconforming. They like to bake, rap, sew, and play football. The engaging stories are told through prose, verse, and the graphic novel format. No matter who the boys are, they are satisfyingly surrounded by loving extended family members who encourage them to be themselves. Short biographies of the contributors are appended. Nicholl Denice Montgomery September/October 2021 p.98(c) Copyright 2021. The Horn Book, Inc., a wholly owned subsidiary of Media Source, Inc. No redistribution permitted.

(c) Copyright The Horn Book, Inc., a wholly owned subsidiary of Media Source, Inc. No redistribution permitted.
Review by Kirkus Book Review

An anthology spotlights the many ways Black boys find joy as they learn and grow in the world. Seventeen writers, some very well known--Jason Reynolds, Jerry Craft, Varian Johnson--others representing newer voices, present short pieces that depict Black boys exploring their communities, families, sexuality, and even space and time as they come of age and grow in confidence and understanding. Editor Mbalia contributes a story in three parts that provides a metanarrative that further emphasizes the magic of taking joy in life and in storytelling. While the thematic thread provides a scaffold, each of the stories is independently successful. Readers experience Black boys seeking excellence in, among other things, a debate about superheroes, a baking contest, learning to pilot a plane, skateboarding, and determining the true meanings of fly and cool. There is acceptance and celebration of differences in the expression of Black masculinity, along with respect for girls and women. Reflections of Black culture give the stories richness and texture. There are many examples of strong family connections and community support. Most of the contributions are prose, but the compilation includes a graphic story as well as one in verse. There is variety in tone and style: Some are humorous, some are poignant, but all are compelling reading. The length of the stories makes them ideal for discussion and student responses. A unique, timely, and necessary read. (about the authors) (Fiction. 9-12) Copyright (c) Kirkus Reviews, used with permission.

Copyright (c) Kirkus Reviews, used with permission.

There's Going to Be a Fight in the Cafeteria on Friday and You Better Not Bring Batman By Lamar Giles **Batman (perma-banned)** Spider-Man Captain America Superman War Machine Wonder Woman Thor Iron Man The Hulk The Winter Soldier The Flash Wolverine Doctor Strange Thanos Black Panther The school bus squealed to a stop at the corner by Cornell's house. Other kids from the neighborhood got off, but he was too busy rereading that stupid list to notice. Black Panther gone. Superman gone. The Hulk-- "Cornell!" Mr. Jeffries shouted from the driver's seat. "You ain't about to have me doubling back because you missed your stop again. Pay attention!" "Sorry. Sorry." Cornell scooted from his seat and brushed past his laughing schoolmates, including Amaya Arnold. Amaya was more giggling than laughing, and Cornell could tell she wasn't being mean. Actually, her giggle was kind of pretty. Almost as pretty as her. But he wasn't brave enough to look her way too long, so his eyes wandered . . . to Tobin Pitts. Who was staring at him. Hard. Tobin swiped his red bangs away from his eyes and freckled forehead. "Hope you're ready." Cornell shook his head and exited the bus with that stupid list taking up the space in his head he'd rather reserve for Amaya. But, unless she got superpowers before lunch tomorrow, she wasn't going to be much help. The cars in the driveway told Cornell everyone was home except Mom, who was still on the West Coast for her business trip. He weaved between Carter's beat-up burgundy Chevy "starter car," Dad's might-be-time-for-an-upgrade-if-he-can-convince-Mom black Audi, and Pop-Pop's classics-are-the-way-to-go baby blue Cadillac until he reached the side door. He removed the lanyard from his neck where his single silver key dangled and jiggled it in the knob. Before she left, Mom had told them all, "Don't think because I'm away it's supposed to be Bruhs Gone Wild. I want this house looking like humans live here when I get back." Inside, the funky-ripe smell of the overfull kitchen trash can suggested they had work to do. First things first, though. "Carter! Hey, Carter! I need your help." Cornell's brother wasn't in the kitchen, and the house wasn't shaking from rap bass, so he probably wasn't in his bedroom. Cornell rushed through the dining room, scooted by Mom's home office, cut through the foyer, kicked his shoes off before stepping into the living room no one ever sat in, and came to a skidding stop at the den, where he found his brother on the wraparound couch with a guest. "Hi," Cornell said, surprised. The girl gushed. "Oh, you must be Carter's brother!" She had dark brown skin, supercool red-framed glasses, and an Afro puff on each side of her head. She reminded Cornell of Amaya. Her jean jacket had a bunch of buttons pinned to the collar and pockets. Cornell leaned forward, trying to read some--black lives matter; love is love--when Carter reminded them he was in the room. "Whatchu need, Lil' Man?" Cornell's chin jerked up. Carter never called him "Lil' Man" before. Also, "Why's your voice sound like that?" Carter coughed and cleared his throat. The weird deepness became his normal little-bit-whiny voice. "We're studying." The girl told Carter, "Hey, I want you to introduce me to this little cutie." Cornell smiled. "Thank you!" Mom taught him how to take a compliment. Carter . . . was not smiling. "Raven, that's Cornell. Cornell, Raven. What. Do. You. Want?" "Oh, right!" Cornell fished the list from his back pocket and hopped over the back of the couch. It was a nimble leap. He landed right between the study buddies. Raven clapped like Cornell had done some YouTube-level parkour. Carter stared, his face twitching in a super weird way. He was probably just focusing real hard so he could be as helpful as possible, Cornell figured. "There's this thing that happens in the cafeteria on Fridays," Cornell said, "where everyone gathers around and argues about which superheroes can do what. Sometimes it's just about who's better, and sometimes it's about who would beat who in a fight. It's a big thing. Anyway, my name got pulled out the hat again, so I have to go tomorrow, except I can't use any of the characters on this list because--" Carter stood up. Oh. Maybe he thought better on his feet. "Come with me." Carter left the room. Cornell hopped off the couch and waved bye to Raven. He found Carter in the kitchen, leaning on the fridge, his face tight. "Do you see what's happening out there?" "Yeah, you're studying with Raven." Carter's chest heaved. He snatched the paper from Cornell's hand. "Gimme that list." "Rude." His eyebrows rose. "Batman's perma-banned?" "Yep. Everyone thinks he's overrated. Plus, it's not cool how he practices his karate on, like, his neighbors." "True. Don't even get me started on him fighting Superman. I mean, an orbital blast of Heat Vision beats a stupid bat-shaped boomerang any day of the week." "That's what I said." Carter's mouth screwed up. He rubbed the back of his head with one hand. "You need a super who's not on this list?" "No!" Cornell got to the really alarming part he was trying to explain on the couch. "I need three. Tomorrow's category is Battle Royale Trios." "Y'all have categories? That is weirdly precise." He seemed impressed. "It's the last debate before school's out and I always lose. Help. Me." "Okay, okay." Carter cracked the fridge, grabbed three ginger ales in the glass bottles that Dad liked while he contemplated the list. Cornell plucked the magnetized bottle opener from the fridge door and popped the caps off. He liked the clinking noise they made when they hit the granite counter. "Can't use Black Panther?" Carter said. "Naw." "Luke Cage?" Cornell pointed to the back of the sheet. Luke Cage had already been used in a previous battle, too. "Black Green Lantern?" Cornell chewed his lip. "Someone used a white Green Lantern before, so since they're both Green Lantern, it might not work." "That's trash," Carter said, but moved on. "You really gotta know your stuff to work these rules. Okay, seems to me you need a pretty versatile team to be safe. Someone techy. Someone magic. Maybe some kind of wild card. Like a telepath, or a teleporter." "If Shuri or Riri Williams isn't on the list, you've still got good techy options." Raven stood in the doorway between the kitchen and the den, obviously catching all of their conversation even though they'd tried to be quiet. Carter straightened, then sort of leaned diagonal on the counter like someone was about to take his picture. "Bae, didn't know you were into this." He was also back to his funky not-normal voice. What was wrong with Carter? Raven joined them at the counter. "May I see your list, Cornell?" "Yep." He passed it to her. Raven smoothed the paper on the countertop, reviewed it, then flipped it over. "Can I have a pen, please?" Cornell looked to Carter. Carter looked confused but retrieved a pen from the junk drawer. Raven began quick scribbling on the list. Then: "Here." **Batman (perma-banned)** Spider-Man Silk Captain America Superman War Machine Wonder Woman Nubia Thor Iron Man Riri/Ironheart The Hulk She-Hulk The Winter Soldier The Flash Wolverine X-23 Doctor Strange Thanos Black Panther Shuri Cornell didn't know what to say. This was genius. "Pro tip," Raven said, "don't sleep on the ladies. Now you have options." Carter gawked like he'd just met a real-life superhero. "Who are you?" "Fan Girl," Raven said. "Now we probably should do a little studying." "Absolutely," Carter grabbed two ginger ales and led Raven away. Cornell went over the list again; Raven poked her head back in the room. She said, "I don't know the rules for your debates, but in case your friends say you can't swap She-Hulk for Hulk or something, you might want some backups." She was right. Of course. "Thanks, Raven. I'm glad you can tolerate Carter enough to be here." Carter yelled, "Go. Away!" But Cornell was already gone. Darting to the rec room for Dad's advice. Hopefully he was as good as Raven. ". . . All right, you Workout Warriors! Keep the High-Intensity Interval Training blast-off going! Twenty-eight, twenty-nine, thirty . . ." One of the really energetic but a little bit scary trainers from Dad's workout app screamed instructions Cornell heard before he entered the rec room. He burst in, found Dad on the couch sweaty and gasping. Dad spotted Cornell and leapt up, rejoining the workout streaming on their big TV with an out-of-sync burpee. "Thirty-two," he said, "thirty-three, thirty . . . hey, son. Let me pause this real quick." Dad's hand shook when he exited out of the workout video instead of pausing it, then closed the app altogether. "Whew! Good workout." He heavy-gasped three times, then dropped to one knee like he needed to tie his shoe even though both sneakers were double-knotted. "Never stop moving, son. Never. Stop. Moving." Cornell was concerned about his father's hard breathing. "Do you want to lie back on the couch, Dad?" "After . . . that? No way. That was light work." He squeezed one eye shut against the sweat pouring off his forehead. "You need something?" Dad looked like Carter (and, I guess, me, Cornell thought) just wider, with less hair on his head, but more (gray!) hair on his face. He liked cool bands like the Roots and really good singers like Mary J. Blige, and insisted they were better than Carter's and Cornell's music--sometimes, maybe, they were. Dad loved funny Eddie Murphy movies, and serious TV like CNN and Divorce Court, and often wanted the whole family in the rec room on Saturday nights to play Monopoly or UNO. Since the superhero battles were kind of like a game, he might be into it. Cornell showed him the updated list and explained what he was looking for. "I see," Dad said. "Does it have to be strictly comics?" "Naw. Someone said John Wick once and everyone was okay with it. Then the John Wick kid tried to say John Wick could use Kryptonite bullets. We all knew that was wrong, though." "Uh-huh." Dad was still gasping, but less. "Raven, Carter's friend, gave me a good techy option with Riri Williams. Carter said it might not hurt to have a magic user." Dad perked. "That's easy, then. Kazaam's your guy." "Shazam?" Cornell flipped the list, almost certain that hero had been used, too. Dad said, "Not SHA-zam. KA-zaam. The genie basketball legend Shaquille O'Neal played in the best movie of 1996." "Uhhhhhh." "Let me show you." Dad opened the movie app on the TV and scrolled through the family library to the Ks. "We own Kazaam?" "Boy, I've owned Kazaam on VHS, DVD, Blu Ray--had to buy that one international because apparently the United States dropped the ball there--and now on digital." "Why?" The thumbnail photo of the basketball giant in golden genie clothes and the floppy-haired kid star of the film looked ridiculous. Dad's breathing was normal again--thank goodness--and he shambled to the couch, patting the cushion next to him. Cornell took a seat. "This movie came out when I was about your brother's age. To be honest, I got excited whenever I saw Black guys like us on the big screen. Pop-Pop would take me and your grandma to see any movie that Black folks were a part of, and I loved them all, even if they sometimes seemed silly." Dad worked the remote, scrolling through other movies in their digital library that Cornell never noticed. "There's The Meteor Man. Blankman. Steel--another Shaq classic. Spawn. Blade. Those last two we might watch when you're a little older. If you want, I mean." "How come you never showed me these before?" They watched movies together all the time, but never these. "I tried with Carter when you were very young, but he wasn't into it. Your generation have a lot of different--and better--things than me and your mom had. I get it. I still keep all this because I love it, and . . ." He wrung his hands in a way that made Cornell feel a little sad. "I like having something for y'all from when I was young. Even if you don't need it." Cornell took his list back, pressed it onto his thigh so he could write. He scribbled down his new additions. **Batman (perma-banned)** Spider-Man Silk Captain America Superman War Machine Wonder Woman Nubia Thor Iron Man Riri/Ironheart The Hulk She-Hulk The Winter Soldier The Flash Wolverine X-23 Doctor Strange Thanos Black Panther Shuri Kazaam??? Meteor Man Blankman Cornell hopped off the couch. "Dad, I don't know about those Shaquille O'Neal movies, but could we maybe watch Meteor Man this weekend? His costume's cool." Dad beamed! And looked way less like he needed to go to the hospital. "Of course. Just catch me after I'm done working out Saturday. Gotta keep my six-pack tight." He rubbed his round belly and cackled. "Love you, Dad," Cornell said on his way out. "Love you too." "Hey, you said Pop-Pop took you to see those movies?" "Every last one." Cornell jogged up the stairs, bypassing his bedroom for the one at the far end of the hall. Pop-Pop's. Time they had a little chat about his taste in film. Cornell knocked, a three-part rhythm. Ta-da-thump! Pop-Pop called from the other side, "Who dat?" Pop-Pop knew full well who it was because that Ta-da-thump was Cornell's knock, but this was part of the game they'd played since he was little-little. "It's Cornell Curry, your grandson, Pop-Pop." "Are you sure you're Cornell and not some sneak thief coming for my gold?" "The only gold you have is your tooth." "Well, I definitely ain't letting you in, then. Because if you a sneak thief, how I'm supposed to chew?" It was silly, and didn't make a lot of sense, but they'd been doing it since Cornell was four years old, and it still felt a little funny. Cornell knew it wasn't something they'd do forever. But it was fine for now, and that was okay. Cornell turned the knob, stepped inside, and immediately began coughing. His eyes burned. What was happening? "Close that there door for me, Nelly." Cornell cupped his hand over his nose and mouth. "Are you sure?" "Yep. Need your opinion on something." Sealing them in, Cornell adjusted to the weird scent his brain identified as spicy lemon juice ocean water. Pop-Pop said, "I got Bible study tonight and Miss Felicia down at the church sent me one of them text messagings with a winky face saying she liked the cologne I had on the other Sunday. Thing is I switch it up every Sunday because you got to be unpredictable." He motioned to a silver tray on his dresser that was jam-packed with half-drained cologne bottles. "Remember that, Cornell. Never let 'em see you comin'!" Excerpted from Black Boy Joy: 17 Stories Celebrating Black Boyhood All rights reserved by the original copyright owners. Excerpts are provided for display purposes only and may not be reproduced, reprinted or distributed without the written permission of the publisher.