Written in verse and apportioned like a diary, Thanhha Lai's Newberry Honor and National Book Award-winning Inside Out & Back Again is a wonder-- a rare middle-reader occasioning close and gentle reading.
Inside Out's ten year old hero and narrator Hà is both tough and tender. She faces a mind-boggling migration from communist-occupied Saigon to an All-American Alabaman outpost with the humor and heart we are all working toward.
A beautiful introduction to the Vietnam War, Vietnamese culture more broadly, and to the trials of entering a new life and language as a refugee in the United States. This is a particularly good one for parents and young readers to enjoy and unpack in tandem. So happy to welcome a new lyric-loving voice to the genre! I'm a full-fledged Lai fan already!
Inside Out's ten year old hero and narrator Hà is both tough and tender. She faces a mind-boggling migration from communist-occupied Saigon to an All-American Alabaman outpost with the humor and heart we are all working toward.
A beautiful introduction to the Vietnam War, Vietnamese culture more broadly, and to the trials of entering a new life and language as a refugee in the United States. This is a particularly good one for parents and young readers to enjoy and unpack in tandem. So happy to welcome a new lyric-loving voice to the genre! I'm a full-fledged Lai fan already!
ROUTINE (From Part II At Sea)
Mother cannot allow
idle children,
hers or anyone else's.
After one week
on the ship
Brother Quang begins
English lessons.
I wish he would
keep it to:
How are you?
This is a pen.
But when an adult is not there
he says,
We must consider the shame of abandoning our own country
and begging toward the unknown
where we will all begin again
at the lowest level
on the social scale.
It's better in the afternoons
with Brother Vũ
who just wants us
to do front kicks
and back kicks,
at times adding
one-two punches.
Brother Khôi gets to monitor
lines for the bathrooms,
where bottoms stick out
to the sea
behind blankets blowing
in the wind.
When not in class
I have to stay
within sight of Mother
like a baby.
Mother gives me
her writing pad.
Write tiny,
there's but one pad.
Writing becomes
boring,
so I draw
over my words.
Pouches of pan-friend shredded coconut
Tamarind paste on banana leaf
Steamed corn on the cob
Rounds of fried dough
Wedges of pineapple on a stick
And of course
cubes of papaya tender and shiny.
Mother smooths back my hair,
knowing the pain
of a girl
who loves snacks
but is stranded
on a ship.
-Elizabeth
Mother cannot allow
idle children,
hers or anyone else's.
After one week
on the ship
Brother Quang begins
English lessons.
I wish he would
keep it to:
How are you?
This is a pen.
But when an adult is not there
he says,
We must consider the shame of abandoning our own country
and begging toward the unknown
where we will all begin again
at the lowest level
on the social scale.
It's better in the afternoons
with Brother Vũ
who just wants us
to do front kicks
and back kicks,
at times adding
one-two punches.
Brother Khôi gets to monitor
lines for the bathrooms,
where bottoms stick out
to the sea
behind blankets blowing
in the wind.
When not in class
I have to stay
within sight of Mother
like a baby.
Mother gives me
her writing pad.
Write tiny,
there's but one pad.
Writing becomes
boring,
so I draw
over my words.
Pouches of pan-friend shredded coconut
Tamarind paste on banana leaf
Steamed corn on the cob
Rounds of fried dough
Wedges of pineapple on a stick
And of course
cubes of papaya tender and shiny.
Mother smooths back my hair,
knowing the pain
of a girl
who loves snacks
but is stranded
on a ship.
-Elizabeth
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