Starred Review ALA Booklist (Thu Apr 28 00:00:00 CDT 2022)

Starred Review This brutally honest account of a childhood in the Bronx is a personal history of violence in America and a hopeful plea for the salvation of our children caught in today's cross fire. Canada's childhood experiences influenced his sensitive understanding of violent attitudes born out of fear and self-preservation. What is perhaps most disturbing about the events Canada experienced is the degree to which all such occurrences (gang fights, weapon use, drug abuse) have increased in frequency and randomness, escalated in intensity, and been magnified by movies and media, which continue to promote heroes who succeed through brute force. Canada contends that we, particularly our children, are subjected to a kind of unstated death penalty as the odds for being shot and killed, not even being the target, have dramatically increased. Anyone living in urban America can relate to this book on some level, for we are all aware that our cities have become just as war torn and dangerous as any official battleground. Canada is willing not only to discuss this crisis, but to offer firsthand solutions by such examples as the Countee Cullen Community Center in Harlem, which provides unity, education, and safety for its neighboring community. This book should be necessary reading for all politicians and media personnel and for every NRA member who thinks licensing handguns, getting tough on crime, or just saying no is enough. For Canada, all such quick-fix solutions are temporary mortar for the ever-widening crack in America's foundation. (Reviewed June 1 & 15, 1995)

Kirkus Reviews

Part memoir, part social treatise, a wholly sobering view of inner-city violence and the codes surrounding it. Canada, head of the Rheedlen Center for Children and Families in New York City, moves smoothly back and forth between recollections of his youth in a tough South Bronx neighborhood and ruminations on the changing nature of violence. His transformation from a shy, frightened kid into a street-smart young man who could hold his own in a fight is rendered in a wholly believable, step- by-step manner. The sections on his gradual indoctrination into a clique of hardscrabble young toughs are fascinating, as are the reasons Canada gives for the daily fights among his neighborhood friends: `It was the job of the older boys tomake us tough' so we wouldn't become victims once we left the block.'' Canada sees an alarming difference between the street codes of his youth in the 1960s and those of today. Life has become increasingly cheap, he contends, due to a confluence of factors. Canada argues that the involvement of children in the drug trade can be directly linked to the tougher drug laws instituted by New York governor Nelson Rockefeller, which mandated stiff jail time for adult drug dealers. He also provides evidence that gun manufacturers have engaged in campaigns aimed at increasing gun use among children—a chilling example of capitalism at its most cynical. He offers some potential solutions, such as forming a peace officer corps and reducing violence on TV and in movies, and ends with a plea for aggressive action to ensure that America's cycle of violence will not be the only legacy we bequeath to our children. A dose of strong medicine for a society locked into death on the installment plan. (First printing of 40,000; author tour)"

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

Canada, a legendary educator and crusader for inner-city-youth, first published in 1995 his revelatory account of the daunting push toward violent behavior that was a part of his Bronx childhood. This graphic adaptation by Nicholas works as a kind of youth-friendly summary of that book's conclusions. Canada's thoughtful, no-nonsense narrative begins in the Bronx in the late 1950s, after his father left him, his mother, and two brothers to fend for themselves. The spine of the story is not so much the broad array of violence on display in a neighborhood suffering from postwar white flight and increases in crime, but Canada's surgical analysis of the stages of violence and the strictly codified strata that reigned on his street and in his school. Helped by Nicholas's dramatic but low-key illustrations, Canada describes how he graduated from one level of violence to the next in a sort of ladder of self-protection. This inexorable evolution is dismaying enough before Canada moves ahead to show how those codes of violence eventually collapsed under an influx of guns. This is exactly the sort of broadly appealing and gripping nonfiction graphic novel that librarians need to be adding to their shelves. (Oct.)

Voice of Youth Advocates

Geoffrey Canada grew up on the streets of the South Bronx in the 1950s and ’60s. There he learned the pecking order of the block and of the school, and that violence was a way of life for everyone in his neighborhood. Either you learned to fight and win, or you were constantly beaten and attacked. Every day he learned the lessons of the sidewalk and the streets he grew up on, and in this graphic novel, we get to experience his lessons right along with him. We watch senseless fights over basketballs and jackets, some of which turn into deadly altercations. Because of the violence and the constant need to be wary, Canada relates through Nicholas’s art the difficulty children brought up in this violence must face, focusing on and moving beyond simple survival. Canada’s book of the same name came out in 1995 and was widely praised for its honest look at growing up amid urban violence. Canada and Nicholas have transformed his biographical account into an easy-to-read, affecting graphic novel. Even students who struggle with the graphic novel format will be able to enjoy this version because of its simple page layout. Canada’s message remains clear, and he has found a vehicle to move his story effectively to the next generation of readers. Hand this to your struggling at-risk readers; they will appreciate Canada’s experience, and hopefully, his message, too.—Lynn Evarts.