Patricia Reilly Giff.  The New Kids of the Polk Street School (series).  1988-1989.  Age 6 to 9.

The first chapter book I ever read was The Valentine Star by Patricia Reilly Giff.  I suppose I must have chosen it randomly at a book fair, but I still own it today.  I still remember the day I read it.

Me:  I really want to read this book.

Mom:  So read it.

Me:  But it’s a chapter book.  I don’t know how to read chapter books yet.

Mom:  Why don’t you just try?

Me:  (after reading it cover to cover at the dining room table)  Mom, I did it!

Mom:  (unimpressed)  See?

Whatever.  I was proud anyway.

So, when I decided to start exposing Geraldine (and, as it turns out, Rhys) to chapter books, I thought of the Kids of the Polk Street School series.  Then I thought that books about second grade might not be that satisfying for preschoolers, so I moved on to look at other series.  Then, a chance donation to the library clued me into the New Kids series, which focuses Emily’s younger sister, Stacy Arrow, who is going into kindergarten.  The text is even a bit easier—perfect.

In the first volume, Watch Out! Man-eating Snake, it’s the first day of kindergarten.  Stacy is determined to find a new best friend, and zeroes in on a target before they even get to the classroom.  Problem is, Jiwon doesn’t seem to care for being told not to cry, or having Stacy try to fix her drawing when she decides it isn’t good enough.  Plus there’s the man-eating snake that her classmates (who don’t know that it’s stuffed) are afraid of.  Everthing works out eventually, and Stacy and Jiwon hold hands and skip by the end.

In the second volume, Fancy Feet, Stacy’s class is having a school store.  The kids each bring in something to “sell,” and they earn play money for good behavior.  Jiwon brings in an old pair of her mother’s sparkly high-heeled shoes, and all the girls want them.  When Stacy is kept in for recess, she tries the shoes on, as she doesn’t think she’ll be able to earn them.  Then the whole uh-oh-someone’s-coming-I-need-to-hide-them-quick-hey-look-a-trash-can plot device unfurls.  The shoes are gone forever, and Stacy’s stomach is in knots, but by the end she knows she’ll feel better if she tells the truth.  Cop out ending!  What five-year-old is that self-aware?

Mini-rant aside, I love the Polk Street series.  The kids are just so real, dirty fingernails and all.  They get into trouble.  They struggle academically.  And while they learn episodic lessons, they never have epiphanies or experience complete behavioral turnarounds.  That’s not life.  It’s funny, when I read Pictures of Hollis Woods a number of years ago, I remember thinking, “Holy crap, Patricia Reilly Giff can actually write!” Revisiting the Polk Street books, though, I’ve realized she always could.  I was just blinded by the serial fiction stigma.

I think I like the books more than the girls do, but it keeps their attention, and when I offer to read more they always say yes.  It was only a six volume run, so it’s not like we’ll be reading them forever.

More Graves girls read! posts

Patricia Reilly Giff.  Eleven.  Wendy Lamb Books, 2008.  165 pages.  Age 9 to 12.

“Who am I?”  Sam MacKenzie never thought to ask that question until he happened across the newspaper clipping with a photo of him, younger, accompanied by the word “missing.”  He soon finds that once the question has been asked, it can’t be taken back.  It’s constantly on his mind.  Like a kid who unexpectedly learns he’s adopted, he begins to question where he belongs.  He half-remembers things, in dreams and when awake.  Fortunately, his grandfather is able to tell him the whole story toward the end of the book, and he can sort fact from fiction.  Not all of us are so lucky.

The book is about unraveling a mystery and the dramatic tension therein, but it’s equally about relationships.  Sam’s family is nontraditional—he lives with his grandfather, who co-parents with their two neighbors.  Sam’s friendship with Caroline, the girl who helps him uncover his past, is also a focal point.  Their personalities are suspiciously compatible.  Caroline is able to motivate Sam to learn to read, and Sam shows Caroline that making friends is a worthwhile endeavor, even for those forced into a nomadic lifestyle.  The novel ended up feeling a little like a fairy tale, with everything bad that ever happened to Sam securely in the past, accessible only in part, and usually limited to dreams.

I don’t know what got into me, but I expected the worst at every turn in this novel.  Sam couldn’t find his birthday presents; I thought, “There are no presents…because no one loves him!”  Sam has a learning disorder; I thought, “It’s because of some of some sort of physical trauma in the womb or when he was young…because no one loves him!”  (Can an LD be caused by something like that?)  But the moment when Sam takes a hammer to the locked trunk in the attic, and it conveniently opens instead of breaking—no one would ever find out!—I knew I could stop expecting anything bad to happen.  And nothing did.

other reviews:
Charlotte’s Library | Jen Robinson’s Book Page | The Reading Zone | A Year of Reading