ALA Booklist (Fri Sep 16 00:00:00 CDT 2022)

In this ode to being an intersectional Black girl, Barnes' poetic text speaks directly to the reader, asking in mock admonition who you (a Black girl) think you are to be so beautiful, bold, and bright e true message being that, in the face of being told to hide everything amazing about themselves, Black girls should stand proud. Black girls can twirl their natural hair, be strong, achieve, climb to great heights, and, most important, love themselves. The book's allusions to prominent Black people, past and present, are many, their first names peppered throughout the text (Toni, Maya, Langston, Zora, Mari) and likenesses reflected in Fazlalizadeh's dreamlike paintings. Sweeping double-page spreads rendered in oil and acrylic paints exude color and light, while soft portraits of Black girls of varying skin tones, hair textures, and ability heighten their position as unique individuals worthy of all life has to offer. The book's overall message of overcoming the negative expectations of socializing girls to be silent and hide will resonate with a wide range of readers.

Kirkus Reviews

A rhyming picture book highlighting Black girls thriving.Questions that highlight the upward and forward movement of Black girls are interspersed with sentences that at first seem like admonitions until it becomes clear that they are emphasizing the strength and beauty of the book's subject. Lines like "You'd better keep quiet; keep still. / So you can know your place" echo social expectations that Black girls shouldn't be loud and take up space. But Barnes goes on to assert that Black girls' very existence is a testament to the power of the multihued and broad diaspora of Black people everywhere ("You're supposed to dim your light / and never be seen. // But you don't, girl-you won't, girl- / you know you're a queen"). Barnes stresses that Black girls have inherited the legacies of Toni Morrison, Mari Evans, Alice Walker, and Zora Neale Hurston, among others, and each illustration is a celebration of this fact. The book begins and ends with Black girls literally rising into the air, on tiptoes and with wings. Black girls using wheelchairs, Black girls wearing hijabs, Black girls embracing each other, wrapped by rainbows-they are all represented in vibrant, lightly textured oil and acrylic paintings. Every page turn brings more brilliant images that encourage readers to move at a steady, rhythmic pace through the book. (This book was reviewed digitally.)Proof that Black girls, just by being themselves, stay ready to soar. (Picture book. 5-10)

Publishers Weekly (Fri Oct 06 00:00:00 CDT 2023)

In this ode to Black girls’ inherent worth, the creators hold up a mirror to the ways that Black girls are silenced and second-guessed, building to an invitation to “Take wing—// and ignite.” Employing references to notable Black figures (Maya Angelou and Langston Hughes) through-out, Barnes (Books Do Not Have Wings) begins with conversational lines that speak to oppressive societal messages: “Now don’t you dare climb, climb, climb/ Langston’s crystal stair./ You ain’t gonna make it, girl./ Come, get down from there.” These eventually give way to powerful refuting lines: “You are a thousand curls unfurling in your hair./ You are a thousand fists standing proudly in air.// You are the song of swallows, lifting sun as they sing—/ breaking light with their beaks.” Fazlalizadeh (Libba) combines acrylic and oil paint to create tableaux of Black girls of varying shades, hair textures, and abilities, showing ballerinas, poets, musicians, and tennis players against saturated backdrops featuring a motif of swallows taking flight. Though initial lines may prove confusing without context (“Who do you think you are now, girl”; “You’re supposed to run and hide”), the creators offer a passionate, legacy-focused celebration. Ages 5–8. Author’s agent: Deborah Warren, East West Literary. Illustrator’s agent: Steven Malk, Writers House. (June)

School Library Journal (Fri Apr 01 00:00:00 CDT 2022)

K-Gr 3 Lyrical, timely, and marvelously illustrated, this work extols the beauty, bravery, and possibilities of young black girls. The author explores strong role models, female and male, from the past to inspire readers to envision the prospects of a glorious future. Using first names, known works, or a likeness provided by the illustrator, famous people are referenced in an enigmatic manner. Young readers may recognize the use of a single name to refer to Maya Angelou, Serena Williams, and Langston Hughes. However, the references to Nikki Giovanni, Toni Morrison, Gwendolyn Brooks, and others are not necessarily as obvious. Thus, elementary students may not understand the connections the author is trying to make between the historical references of strong Black voices in the past and the impact they have on encouraging the creativity and contributions that are currently possible to today's generation. A long banner in the Pride colors flows and unfurls across three spreads and poignantly, with sort of withered scorched ends. Here and elsewhere, the book's lettering is an integral part of the manuscript, with flowing lines and occasional words in boldface. The advanced reading level, implied social commentary, and absence of a specific story line may make it difficult for this book to find an audience at the elementary level. However, the rich vocabulary, flowing narrative, and specific word emphasis does encourage exuberant read-alouds. VERDICT With its prevailing theme of empowerment, this book could be used in a slightly older language arts class, as part of a history class research project, or as content for competitive oratorical contests.Lynne Stover