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Publisher's Hardcover ©2023--
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Penguin
Annotation: "The summer before seventh grade, as the constant threat of housefires looms over her Brooklyn neighborhood, basketball-loving Sage is trying to figure out her place in her circle of friends, when a new kid named Freddy moves in"--Provided by publisher.
Genre: [Sports fiction]
 
Reviews: 7
Catalog Number: #361868
Format: Publisher's Hardcover
Publisher: Penguin
Copyright Date: 2023
Edition Date: 2023 Release Date: 10/10/23
Pages: 178 pages
ISBN: 0-399-54546-8
ISBN 13: 978-0-399-54546-7
Dewey: Fic
LCCN: 2023009347
Dimensions: 22 cm.
Language: English
Reviews:
Starred Review ALA Booklist (Fri Oct 06 00:00:00 CDT 2023)

Starred Review Sage is spending the summer before seventh grade doing her favorite thing in the world: playing basketball at the park in her beloved Bushwick neighborhood. She's the only girl on the court, but she knows she's as good as any guy in the close-knit bunch and dreams of playing professionally. A new kid, Freddy, quickly falls in with the sports set and becomes inseparable from Sage in particular. Though it may all sound idyllic, it's a supremely strange time in their corner of 1970s Brooklyn mes are regularly burning to the ground in "The Matchbox," and Sage's mother is keen to relocate them to a safer part of town. A tragic death combined with a threatening confrontation on the basketball court sees the previously confident Sage question her place in every aspect of her world, and it takes all of her courage and the community strength to find her way again. The deeply moving novel from National Book Award winner Woodson is both elegant and accessible, and the pithy, lyrical approach works wonderfully here, with occasional chapters consisting of only a few dramatic lines. Bushwick and its inhabitants are fully fleshed out with incredible detail and immense tenderness, and Sage immediately feels like a dear friend. A poignant portrayal of a historic neighborhood and an outstanding ode to the grief and gift of growing older.HIGH-DEMAND BACKSTORY: Woodson is one of the most esteemed figures in children's publishing, and her historical fiction especially can't be missed.

Starred Review for Kirkus Reviews (Fri Oct 06 00:00:00 CDT 2023)

An African American tween's world is turned upside down by mysterious fires in her neighborhood and by self-doubt as she comes of age.Sage's mother wants them to move to a safer area, but Sage is reluctant to leave their community, where her father, a fireman killed in the line of duty, grew up. Her mother was always one of the first to help families when fires struck, and Sage finds herself drawn to the little kids who play in the residue left behind. Rough-and-tumble, basketball-loving Sage grapples with feeling different from the makeup-wearing girls who used to be her friends. The words of a menacing teen who harasses her on the basketball court haunt her ("What kind of girl are you?" "I should punch you in the face just to show you you ain't a dude…"), and her hurt turns to an anger that nearly has a catastrophic outcome. After one of the neighborhood children is killed in yet another fire, Sage finds herself reflecting on her own loss. Drawing on her own experiences growing up in Brooklyn's Bushwick neighborhood during the '70s and '80s, Woodson has crafted a beautifully lyrical narrative of change, healing, and growth. Her ability to evoke time and place is masterful; every word feels perfectly chosen. Sage is an irresistible character with a rich interior life, and her relationships with her mother and her friend Freddy are exceptionally well drawn.An exquisitely wrought story of self and community. (author's note) (Fiction. 10-13)

School Library Journal Starred Review (Tue Aug 01 00:00:00 CDT 2023)

Gr 5 Up— Another remarkable ode to Brooklyn and memory from the incomparable National Book Award winner. Twelve-year-old Sage no longer feels comfortable with the girls from her Bushwick neighborhood because she'd rather be playing basketball than worrying about her appearance. The sport is what she loves most in the world and is what unites her and the new boy Freddy. The two exchange player stats and discuss the Knicks, finding a kindred spirit in the other as families are left displaced because of the fires that are mysteriously razing their buildings. Sage's mom warns that they'll be moving out soon, to where "sirens didn't scream deep into the night." That year Sage also grapples with her grief over her father's death and a scary and sexist encounter in the park that has her questioning her identity and giving up basketball altogether. Set during the 1970s, this nostalgia-tinged novel takes place when Bushwick was known as "The Matchbox" because of the fires that plagued its streets. The chapters are vignette-like, sometimes featuring only a few sentences. The often wistful text is lyrical, but the nostalgia never overwhelms the narrative. Woodson's economy of language expertly presents the microcosm of Sage's community of friends and neighborhood kids and the macrocosm of the external world that threatens to destroy it. Sage's journey to finding herself while trying to navigate these two worlds will resonate with readers young and old. VERDICT The power of community and friendship permeates every word in this middle grade novel for all readers. A truly masterly work.— Shelley M. Diaz

Horn Book (Fri Oct 06 00:00:00 CDT 2023)

Sage Durham, a basketball-obsessed Black twelve-year-old, is looking forward to a summer of pick-up games with the boys (she's always the only girl on the court) in her close-knit 1970s Brooklyn neighborhood. Instead, it proves to be a season of screaming sirens and burned-out buildings. The newspapers dub Bushwick "The Matchbox," and a number of the Durhams' neighbors become victims of fire. Sage's mom, the widow of a firefighter, is saving every possible penny to put toward a brick house and a safer future for herself and her daughter. But the idea of leaving the home where her dad grew up and all the people she has ever known is hard for Sage. A recent cruel comment ("What kind of girl are you?") has her questioning where she fits in. This lyrical first-person upper-middle-grade novel taps into a wide array of emotional truths and preteen sensibilities. Passages on loss and memory feature palpable sadness, but there is also a tender exploration of the enduring power of friendship and love, the discovery of inner strength and resilience, and the need to balance an appreciation for what "once was" and what may be. Woodson again delivers an appealing protagonist whose voice will resonate with readers in a nuanced coming-of-age story worth remembering. Luann Toth

Kirkus Reviews (Fri Oct 04 00:00:00 CDT 2024)

An African American tween's world is turned upside down by mysterious fires in her neighborhood and by self-doubt as she comes of age.Sage's mother wants them to move to a safer area, but Sage is reluctant to leave their community, where her father, a fireman killed in the line of duty, grew up. Her mother was always one of the first to help families when fires struck, and Sage finds herself drawn to the little kids who play in the residue left behind. Rough-and-tumble, basketball-loving Sage grapples with feeling different from the makeup-wearing girls who used to be her friends. The words of a menacing teen who harasses her on the basketball court haunt her ("What kind of girl are you?" "I should punch you in the face just to show you you ain't a dude…"), and her hurt turns to an anger that nearly has a catastrophic outcome. After one of the neighborhood children is killed in yet another fire, Sage finds herself reflecting on her own loss. Drawing on her own experiences growing up in Brooklyn's Bushwick neighborhood during the '70s and '80s, Woodson has crafted a beautifully lyrical narrative of change, healing, and growth. Her ability to evoke time and place is masterful; every word feels perfectly chosen. Sage is an irresistible character with a rich interior life, and her relationships with her mother and her friend Freddy are exceptionally well drawn.An exquisitely wrought story of self and community. (author's note) (Fiction. 10-13)

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

Black 11-year-old Sage, a Bushwick native, questions the meaning of memory and struggles with self-image as houses begin mysteriously burning down throughout her neighborhood, newly dubbed “The Matchbox.” After Sage’s firefighter father dies in the line of duty, her mother saves money in the hope of one day moving them out of town. Despite the growing worry that permeates her community, Sage is reluctant to leave, and spends her time playing basketball with local boys. But some of the boys make fun of her for participating in the sport (“You shoot that ball like you think you a dude or something,” one taunts), prompting Sage to wrestle with gender norms and feelings of self-doubt. When another fire results in further tragedy, Sage is forced to reckon with her community, her future, and the power of legacy. Woodson (Before the Ever After) draws on her experiences growing up in Bushwick in the 1970s and ’80s to craft a nostalgic-feeling ode to the unexpected. Short chapters offer swift glimpses into momentous happenings in Sage’s life, while organic dialogue and mesmerizing prose lay bare a narrative that encourages learning to move with the ebbs and flows of life. Ages 10–up. (Oct.)

Reviewing Agencies: - Find Other Reviewed Titles
Starred Review ALA Booklist (Fri Oct 06 00:00:00 CDT 2023)
Starred Review for Kirkus Reviews (Fri Oct 06 00:00:00 CDT 2023)
School Library Journal Starred Review (Tue Aug 01 00:00:00 CDT 2023)
Book Page (Fri Oct 06 00:00:00 CDT 2023)
Horn Book (Fri Oct 06 00:00:00 CDT 2023)
Kirkus Reviews (Fri Oct 04 00:00:00 CDT 2024)
Publishers Weekly (Fri Oct 06 00:00:00 CDT 2023)
Word Count: 23,371
Reading Level: 4.3
Interest Level: 4-7
Accelerated Reader: reading level: 4.3 / points: 3.0 / quiz: 523036 / grade: Middle Grades
Lexile: 680L
Guided Reading Level: Y
Fountas & Pinnell: Y
After the year of fire
vines rise up
through the rest of our lives
of smoke
of flame
of memory.
As if to say
We're still here.
As if to say
Remember us.

1

The moon is bright tonight. And full. Hanging low above the house across the street where an orange curtain blows in and out of my neighbors' window. Out and in. And past the curtain there's the golden light of their living room lamps. Beyond that, there is the pulsing blue of their tele­vision screen. I see this all now. I see a world continuing.

And in the orange and gold and blue I'm reminded again of the year when sirens screamed through my old neighborhood and smoke always seemed to be billowing. Somewhere.

That year, from the moment we stepped out of our houses in the morning till late into the night, we heard the sirens. Down Knickerbocker. Up Madison. Across Cornelia. Both ways on Gates Avenue. Down Ridgewood Place. Rounding the corners of Putnam, Wilson, Evergreen . . . 

Evergreen. Sometimes a word comes to you after time has passed. And it catches you off guard. Evergreen. The name of a family of trees. And the name of a block in Brooklyn. Evergreen. Another way of saying forever.

That year, nothing felt evergreen.

Palmetto. A word that has never left me. A word that in my mind is evergreen. Palmetto. The name for both a stunning tree and an oversize cockroach. Palmetto was also the name of a street in my old neighborhood. And that year, Palmetto Street was burning.

2

That was the year when, one by one, the buildings on Palmetto melted into a mass of rock and ash and crumbled plaster until just a few walls were left standing. Walls that we threw our balls against and chased each other around. And at the end of the day, when we were too tired to play anymore, they were the walls we simply sat down by and pressed our backs into, staring out over a block that was already, even as we stared at it with our lips slightly parted and our hands shielding the last of the sun from our eyes, almost gone.

We said Well, nothing lasts for always, right?

We said One day even the whole earth will disappear.

We were just some kids making believe we understood.

But we didn't. Not yet.

We didn't understand the fires. Or life. Or the world.

But we knew that neighborhood was our world.

And we knew . . . our world was burning.

3

That was the year of Freddy too.

4

Freddy moved into the corner building on Palmetto Street right where it was sliced through by a small block called Ridgewood Place. The brick houses on Ridgewood Place felt like they came from another time. Each house was just as perfect as the one beside it. The cars parked out in front of the houses were undented and shining. We didn't understand how the people who lived on Ridgewood Place got such nice houses and fancy cars. But we understood why their brick houses remained standing long after the wooden houses of Palmetto Street had burned to the ground. So we slitted our eyes as we walked past the houses on Ridgewood Place, jealous because the kids who lived inside that brick didn't have to worry about how quickly flames flew. And we slitted our eyes because we knew they didn't have to sleep with their robes and shoes at the foot of their beds. We knew if those kids woke up in the middle of the night, it was only to go to the bathroom or climb into their parents' bed during a thunderstorm.

5

Hey, girl!

The first time I ever talked to Freddy was the day he called to me from his window. I had been dribbling my basketball through my legs as I walked up the block but stopped to see who was yelling. It was summer, and the one tree on Palmetto Street was in front of his building. That's what I remember now--­looking up at Freddy through all that green.

Hey, yourself, I yelled back.

Where's the park at?

What park?

My dad said there was a park around here somewhere. With hoops.

I shrugged. I don't know anything about some park, I said.

But you got a ball.

So?

A hot wind came out of nowhere and trembled the leaves. I didn't want to be yelling in the street up at some kid's window, and something about that wind made me feel a way. So I gave a little wave and then broke into a jog toward the park.

Excerpted from Remember Us by Jacqueline Woodson
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.

National Book Award winner Jacqueline Woodson brings readers a powerful story that delves deeply into life’s burning questions about time and memory and what we take with us into the future.

It seems like Sage’s whole world is on fire the summer before she starts seventh grade. As house after house burns down, her Bushwick neighborhood gets referred to as “The Matchbox” in the local newspaper. And while Sage prefers to spend her time shooting hoops with the guys, she’s also still trying to figure out her place inside the circle of girls she’s known since childhood. A group that each day, feels further and further away from her. But it’s also the summer of Freddy, a new kid who truly gets Sage. Together, they reckon with the pain of missing the things that get left behind as time moves on, savor what’s good in the present, and buoy each other up in the face of destruction. And when the future comes, it is Sage’s memories of the past that show her the way forward. Remember Us speaks to the power of both letting go . . . and holding on.


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