Publisher's Hardcover ©2024 | -- |
Novels in verse.
Self-actualization. Fiction.
Family life. Fiction.
Clubs. Fiction.
Gardening. Fiction.
Cooking. Fiction.
Middle schools. Fiction.
Schools. Fiction.
Twelve-year-old Isabel "Isa" Ligaya is about to move from the Philippines to California. Her mother is balikbayan, a Filipino citizen living and working in another country, and has been in America for the past five years. She finally sends for Isa, who must leave her grandparents and their special garden. Her lolo tells her to look for something familiar in California to feel less homesick, but everything is new: new school, new food, new friends. Even her mom feels like a stranger, always busy working during the day and going to nursing school at night. Isa feels alone and out of place until she finally spots something familiar at school: a garden. Respicio's novel in verse tackles the emotional journey of sacrifice and opportunity that many new immigrants experience, as well as the plight of Filipinos living abroad to earn money. It is in good company with other novels in verse that detail the new immigrant experience through a child's eyes, such as Marilyn Hilton's Full Cicada Moon (2015) and Jasmine Warga's Other Words for Home (2019).
Kirkus ReviewsA tween girl finds ways to connect her old life in the Philippines to her new life in America.It's 1999, and 12-year-old Isabel Ligaya is leaving the one home she's ever known to live in San Francisco. She's excited but nervous to be reunited with Mama, who moved to the U.S. five years ago for work, hoping to provide better lives for Isabel and her grandparents. San Francisco couldn't be more different from the gardens and greenery she's used to. Feeling like she doesn't belong in this strange place with a mom she barely knows, Isabel searches for "the people / places / things / that feel like / home," just like Lolo, her grandfather, told her to. She finds solace in her school's forgotten garden, makes friends in the culinary club, and learns to grow and bloom in her new environment. Told in verse, this is a charming story of growth, family, friends, community, and finding connections between old and new. Isabel's thoughts, her intense and sometimes conflicting feelings about immigrating, and her changing relationship with her mother are beautifully expressed and relatable. Sprinkled throughout the text are details about Filipino American history and Filipino culture, language, and diaspora experiences. While most of the book is written in free verse, readers are also introduced to other poetic forms, such as acrostic and concrete poetry.Heartfelt and moving. (author's note) (Verse fiction. 8-12)
Publishers WeeklyUnderstated verse and other poetic forms shape this reassuring 1999-set story of a persevering Filipina tween adapting to a new life. Twelve-year-old Isabel Ligaya lives with her jasmine-growing grand-parents in the rural Philippines. She was seven when her mother left for lucrative domestic work in America; now, after earning a nursing degree, Mama makes plans for Isabel to move to California. Her grandfather’s advice (“When things feel hard/ find the familiar./ The people/ places/ things/ that feel like/ home”) and her grandmother’s gift of a tiny glass bottle of soothing jasmine scent provide comfort. In San Francisco, she feels abandoned by her mother, who’s busy job-seeking and apartment-hunting, and when Isabel tries befriending classmate Melissa, who is also Filipina, Melissa’s friend Ashley swipes Isabel’s jasmine bottle and declares the contents “gross.” But soon Isabel discovers the school’s neglected garden, and tending to its ailing plants, as well as frequenting a welcoming Culinary Club and Asian American Senior Center, help her establish new friendships and a sense of purpose. Respicio (
Gr 3–7— A touching novel in verse for middle grade readers. In 1999, Isabel is happily living in the Philippines with Lolo and Lola. She enjoys gardening with her grandparents and spending time with her two best friends, but one thing is missing—her mother. Five years ago, Isabel's mother went to the United States to be a nanny in New York in hopes of making enough money for her family to have a better life. Now, it's time for Isabel to leave the Philippines to meet her mother in California. But Isabel doesn't want to leave the only home she's ever known. After a long flight, Isabel finally reunites with her mother, but everything is unfamiliar. Her mom is always busy, and Isabel misses her country, her friends, and most of all, gardening with Lolo and Lola. Even with the sadness and uncertainty Isabel feels, she eventually finds things that feel like home. Respicio's verse is powerful and will elicit a wide range of emotions in readers, especially those who have lived through something similar. She poetically incorporates the experiences and feelings immigrants may have when moving to a new country. Readers will relate to or learn a lot about Filipino culture. An author's note with further information is included. VERDICT A solid addition to libraries serving tweens.— Lisa Buffi
ALA Booklist (Fri Oct 04 00:00:00 CDT 2024)
Kirkus Reviews
Publishers Weekly
School Library Journal (Mon Apr 01 00:00:00 CDT 2024)
I walk with my grandfather
through
a thousand shades of green
plants dressed in dew
flowers flooded in light
as birds fill the trees with their
wild loud songs.
Our garden
comes alive
in mornings.
Lolo drags a hose
the water trickling slow.
We pause at a planter of
Jasmine
Sampaguita.
Weeks ago when I found out
I'd have to say goodbye
he made me plant it
So when you return
you'll see how it's grown, he said.
Jasmine
Sampaguita
takes up most of this space.
Rows of shrubs like fences
small white flowers
perfuming the air with their
sweet lush musk.
But we hover over mine
concerned
leaves wilted
brittle brown stems.
No blossoms here.
I crouch down.
What's wrong, little Jazzy?
I ask, almost expecting a reply.
Plants respond to humans
our voice, our love.
It's why I name and talk to some of ours:
Elvis Parsley and Vincent van Grow,
my favorite, the Spice Girls
(a cluster of herbs named after
a music group my friends and I
dance to when we play our CDs).
Should I have grown it in the ground?
Or in a different pot?
Or . . . something?
I ask my grandfather.
I don't know what to do.
You should trust.
It's just a little thirsty.
Jasmine
Sampaguita
has gifted
my family
our livelihood
by learning the art
of growing and selling.
Its blooms are our survival.
I know its petals
soft and white.
I know its smell
without it near
but I don't know
why this one looks
how I feel
--homesick
heartsick--
when I haven't even
left for California yet.
I sigh.
Feeling nervous for your trip, Isabel?
If I don't like it there, can I come home?
To my surprise he nods.
But only for visits.
Tricked!
Lolo raises my chin
so our eyes meet.
Sumpa kita
sounds like sampaguita.
It stands for
I promise you.
And I promise
you will do fine
in your new home.
He lays the hose
slips it a drip
saying something
I've already heard
many times, my whole life.
We bloom
where we
are planted.
Don't Want to Say It
Goodbyes look like
summer in my small town
green hills and rice fields
my best friends and I strolling toward home.
Goodbyes sound like
chattering about school and friends
how next year we all turn thirteen
--though they'll be here and I'll be elsewhere.
Goodbyes taste like
tart calamansi from Lolo's tree
round, small, and green that Lola's
slicing and squeezing into drinks
for me, Cristina, and Rosamie.
Ice clinks
glasses sweat
we take slow sips
and our lips pucker
from the sweet and the sour.
Goodbyes smell like
sampaguita flowers
Lola's picked and strung
piled high on the table in soft pearly mounds.
Bye, Lola! See you tomorrow, Isabel! my friends say.
Lola waves back and drapes
a single jasmine garland
around my neck the way she does
with each fresh batch.
Goodbye is
Lola's sad smile
the waning sun
that citrus still on my tongue
these white blooms near my heart
her warm hand on my cheek
knowing how much
I already hate saying
goodbye.
Me, Isabel Ligaya, Age Twelve
I've never lived in a city
I've never seen snow
I've never been rich
I've never had a mother take me to a mall.
I've never left the Philippines
or ridden in an airplane
or wanted to make new best friends
because
I love the ones I already have.
Excerpted from Isabel in Bloom by Mae Respicio
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.
A middle-school girl discovers a connection between her home in the Philippines and her new home in the U.S. through a special garden in “this sweet and heartfelt novel [that] explores how bumpy beginnings can offer chances for new growth” (The New York Times)
A National Council of Teachers of English Recommended Book
Twelve-year-old Isabel is the new kid in her San Francisco middle school. It’s the first time in many years that she’ll be living with her mother again. Mama's job in the US allowed Isabel and her grandparents to live more comfortably in the Philippines, but now Isabel doesn't really know her own mother anymore.
Making new friends in a new city, a new country, is hard, but joining the gardening and cooking club at school means Isabel will begin to find her way, and maybe she too, will begin to bloom.
In this beautifully rendered novel-in-verse, Mae Respicio explores how growth can take many forms, offering both the challenges and joy of new beginnings.