Another D for DeeDee by Bibi Belford, 2018

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Life for Dinora Diaz, DeeDee for short, is full of D's. Missing her dad, who's disappeared. Being diagnosed with diabetes. Feeling dumb in fourth grade at her new school, which she transferred into--leaving behind Sandro Zapote and all her other friends in Miss Hamilton's class--after her family's trailer burned down. It's so many D's that DeeDee's sure she'll never really fit in, much less find the perfect best friend she's always wanted.

Then DeeDee meets River. He's a lot like her: River loves skateboarding, art, and dancing, just like she does, and he misses his dad, too. But they're also different: while DeeDee's still struggling to adjust to life with diabetes and has sworn off her Mexican heritage to get back at her dad for leaving, River seems to have totally adjusted to--even learned to love--being deaf. River promises to help search for DeeDee's dad and to compete with her in the spring skateboard exhibition at their local skate park. Finally, DeeDee has something to look forward to.

But when River transfers into DeeDee's fourth grade class, DeeDee makes a huge mistake, putting not just the exhibition, but her entire friendship with River, on the line. Now she has to make a choice: stand up to her classmates and accept being an outsider, or give up her best friend for good? To keep the best friend she's always wanted, DeeDee will have to learn to love difference--not just River's, but also her own.

(208 pages)

Last year, I read Belford's Crossing the Line last year and really loved it. She dealt very sensitively and thoughtfully with the race issues of the early twentieth century through the eyes of a white boy who befriended a black boy and his family.

That's why I was interested to read her latest novel, Another D for DeeDee. This one is set in the present day, and actually manages to impressively mimic the lifestyle of modern kids (communicating by text and everything). It touches on racism lightly, since DeeDee is Mexican-America, but DeeDee also struggles with the aftermath of a fire, living in a trailer park, fitting in at a new school, finding out where her father has gone, and dealing with her new diagnosis of diabetes.

It's a lot of content to smush into a book written for a younger audience, but once again Belford manages to keep the story humming along engagingly. Even though I normally would have gotten so disgusted with DeeDee's bad behavior (especially toward River) that I would have come away from the book with a bad taste in my mouth, somehow Belford manages to keep DeeDee a sympathetic and relatable character. In fact, the reader also learns from DeeDee's bad behvior: Belford makes an excellent point that sometimes mistakes must be forgiven–and that real people are full of nuances, not all good or all bad.

There are too many things going on in this book to go through all of them, but one story aspect I really resonated with was DeeDee and River's conversations about representation. When DeeDee says she might want to enter the talent show as a skateboarder, her nurse is thrilled because she will be a representative of kids with diabetes, showing how her condition is not holding her back. DeeDee is very uncomfortable with this, and indeed spends some time worrying that she could win the competition for her diabetes, because the judges feel sorry for her or want to seem inclusive, rather than because of her actual talent. She doesn't want it to define her. River also grapples with the fine line between personal achievement, representation/paving the way, and handouts.

It's a fascinating question, dealt with in a pretty thoughtful way. I have some very limited experience with these sorts of questions because I am a girl in computer science. There are a lot of extra resources for encouraging women in technology, including special workshops and networking events and even internships. I have always been uncomfortable about taking advantage of these opportunities, and have largely turned them down, because I don't like the idea of getting special help just because of my gender. I can definitely relate to DeeDee and River's thoughts on the topic, and watching them explore the issue actually helped me some.

Anyway, Bibi Belford is quickly becoming one of my favorite authors. Do go back and read Crossing the Line, then read Another D for DeeDee, then join me in waiting for her next book. I'm sure it also will be an engaging and thought-provoking read!

Almost There by Bekah DiFelice, 2017

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Home, by definition, is where you feel comfortable, where you are established, where relationships are worn in and familiar. It is where you are known, a place to belong. It is a universal longing, but an elusive destination.

Why does life often move us far from this secure, primal comfort? We transfer to different locations or simply live unsettled in our own hometown. We rebuild, make new friends, find new jobs, and forge new ties. Our blanket of security becomes a whole host of unknowns. Underneath it all, sure as the evening taps, there is a homesickness for belonging.

What if this homesickness is not just a series of challenges to be overcome, but a vehicle for God to draw us to Himself? What if God is orchestrating our circumstances to bring us into the knowledge of who He is? What if all along He is inviting us home?

Is it possible to build a home in a life that marches to the cadence of constant change and transition? In Almost There, Bekah DiFelice, a military wife familiar with the impermanence of home, offers encouragement and wisdom to those who struggle with a search for belonging in a world where home is constantly shifting. God, the grand home builder with an eternal guarantee, invites us to build a home that resides in the privacy of our hearts, a settlement that is fundamentally immovable. If we put roots down in a God who is unchangeable, He promises to be a steady anchor in the unpredictability of life.

(192 pages)

I am not a military kid, but people often think I am.

My family has moved eight times since I was born, at an average of every three years or so. When I tell people we've moved because of my father (a scientist), the first assumption for many is that my father has a military job.

All that to say . . . I can relate on a very personal level to DiFelice's descriptions of the trials and tribulations of moving somewhere new every so often. I know what it's like to hunt for a new church, to make awkward small talk with people who might be new friends (or possibly new frenemies), to unpack all my belongings and make an impersonal new house into a home.

Or at least, to make it some part of a home. The whole point of DiFelice's book is detailing her search for home. She was thrust from her childhood home to marry her husband and follow him first to Yuma, Arizona (a tiny base in the middle of nowhere) and then, after three years and every three years after that, to a new location somewhere around the world. She was definitely a lot less prepared for moving out into the world than I am, because she'd lived her whole life in the same place surrounded by family; her quest to discover what home really is was interesting to read (and often hilarious), but I don't know that it was specifically that helpful to me.

After all, I already know where my home is: it's wherever I'm living at the moment. And also with my family. And also, to varying extents, every place I've ever lived. Because personally, I don't believe that home has to be just one place. My home is a physical place and an emotional one–it's every place I've ever lived that I still have fond memories of, it's the house of my parents and siblings who love me (no matter where that house happens to be at the moment), and it's the physical address where I live my day-to-day life at the moment. Home is like a running tally sheet, not a single focal point that almost always stays the same.

And I think, really, that DiFelice reached the same conclusion that I did. She also had some more insight into God's role in things, which I hadn't really given much thought to. But the real reason I loved reading Almost There has nothing to do with the deep philosphical insights: Bekah DiFelice is simply hilarious. I loved the funny, realistic ways she had of describing the experience of moving around and living life. I can't think of much else to say about the book (other than that it's really good and I very highly recommend it!), so I think I'll just end with a quote from her describing the drive to her first home away from her parents, in Arizona:

When night set in, headlights flashed bright and aggressive from the opposite direction. So many people, it seemed, were fleeing from the very place I was headed. I departed Colorado armed with Cheez-Its and gusto, and in the desert I realized that both were gone.

Disclaimer: I received a complimentary copy of this book from the publisher in exchange for an honest review.