Feb. 2025 Book Recommendations: Black History Month

Without in any way limiting the author’s exclusive rights under copyright, any use of this publication to “train” generative artificial intelligence (AI) technologies to generate text is expressly prohibited. The author reserves all rights to license uses of this work for generative AI training and development of machine learning language models.


Welcome back! Thank you to everyone who read, shared, or commented on my most recent post about libraries in the Trump administration. Please take care of yourselves and keep fighting for your loved one, and supporting community organizations like your library. 

Just a couple blog updates before we start on this month’s book list. First, there probably won’t be recommendation lists for April, July, August, or December, unless I’m really inspired and suddenly have a surge in free time. I do a lot of reading for these lists, not just the 2-4 recommended books, and it takes up a lot of time. I’ve read a lot of really great stuff and things that I might not have picked up otherwise, but it also makes it harder to find the time to read other things, including books for blog posts. All that said, I am doing much better than I was months ago, and I’m going to once again endeavor to write two posts a month. 

February is Black History Month in the U.S.! Though Black History Month was first officially recognized by President Gerald Ford in 1976. However, Black History Month goes back much further than that. It was actually started in 1926 as “Negro History Week” by historian and author Carter G. Woodson.  Black History Month honors the contributions and celebrates the triumphs of Black Americans, while acknowledging the hardships and struggles caused by systemic racism. 

Coming of Age in Mississippi by Anne Moody

Anne Moody (born Essie Mae) was born to two poor sharecroppers in 1940 in Centerville, Mississippi. An observant and intelligent young woman, Moody would go on to graduate from Tougaloo College and become actively involved in the Civil Rights movement in the 1960s, participating in sit-ins and joining organizations the NAACP, Student Non-Violent Coordinating Committee (SNCC), and the Congress of Racial Equality (CORE). She endured harassment and violence, but her anger and determination kept her fighting against racism and sexism. Published in 1968, Moody’s memoir is broken into four parts. Childhood begins with Moody at a young age and ends with her eighth grade graduation. This section her family’s struggles with poverty and Moody working as a maid for White families, some of which were White supremacists with ties to the Ku Klux Klan. In High School,  Moody learns about the murder of Emmet Till, an event that would shape her worldview forever. She is witness to a rash of violence against Black people in her community, including a family burnt to death in their own home. She also travels to New Orleans and works to become financially independent. In College, Moody finds her calling as an activist and community organizer, beginning with a protest against her junior college after one of her classmates finds maggots in the dining hall food. Finally, The Movement chronicles Moody’s involvement in the Civil Rights movement, including being beaten at a sit-in and working for CORE. Given the time period the memoir was written in, some of the language is dated, but Moody’s experiences also feel fresh and immediate. A great choice for anyone looking for a personal account of the Civil Rights movement. 

Bonus Book: Whoosh! Lonnie Johnson’s Super-Soaking Stream of Inventions by Chris Barton

Lonnie Johnson is an inventor and former NASA engineer, but for many kids (and more than a few adults), his greatest invention is the Super-Soaker. This picture book biography tells Lonnie’s story of building a robot, helping the Galileo space probe get to Jupiter, and finding the inspiration to make this summertime staple. An unsung hero of childhood, thank you, Lonnie, for so many great memories. 

Fiction

Master of Poisons by Andrea Hairston

A poison desert stretches across the Arkhysian Empire. Djola, Master of Poisons, has been tasked by the emperor to find a way to halt its spread. He is working to create a “map to the future” and heal the land by mastering the secret and powerful conjure Xhalan Xhala. As the poison desert continues to spread, Djola is exiled from Emperor Azizi’s Council. The only way he can return to his family is to find Xhalan Xhala, and stop the desert once and for all. 

Young Awa is able to traverse the Smokelands, an ethereal place of dreams and magic that reflects the physical world. At the age of 12, her father sells her to the Green Masters, a nomadic group of storytellers and warriors who can use powerful conjure. Awa is in training to be a griot (storyteller), and her ability to cross the Smokelands and special connection to bees may make her the next griot of griots like her mentor, Yari. 

Hairston creates a vivid African-inspired fantasy world, rich with folklore and African traditions. This complex story is written with lyrical prose that makes the novel utterly captivating. Hairston has three other historical-fantasy books that would also be good fits for Black History Month (Redwood and Wildfire, Will Do Magic for Small Change, and Archangels of Funk), but Master of Poisons sucked me in from the first page.

March Book Recs: The Troubles

March is Women’s History Month, and it’s also Irish Heritage Month! I’ve decided to combine both of those things for this list. Media often show stereotypical depictions of the Irish, flattening an entire culture into a few jokes about alcoholism and leprechauns. Like millions of Americans, I have Irish heritage, and these depictions have always irked me. 

One part of Irish history that has long been close to my heart is The Troubles. The Troubles were 30 year period of political and sectarian violence between Unionists and loyalists (mostly Ulster Protestants) who wanted Northern Ireland to remain part of the U.K., and Irish nationalists and republicans (mostly Irish Catholic) who wanted Northern Ireland to join the Republic of Ireland. The Troubles officially came to an end with the 1998 Good Friday Agreement, which ended much of the violence in Northern Ireland. But my personal connection with The Troubles isn’t just from my Irish-Catholic heritage or watching the show Derry Girls. In the early 2000s, my family hosted a girl from Derry for three summers. Those were the best summer vacations I’d ever have. My mom described them as “a six-week sleepover.” While our guest did talk about some of the violence she and her family experienced, my memories of her and our summers together are full of laughter, dares, and the filthiest jokes I’d ever heard. 

For the March recommendation list, I’ve chosen two books where The Troubles play a central role in the lives of women. These are both great as audiobooks. Other than the readers’ lovely Irish accents, you’ll also be able to hear the correct pronunciation of Irish words.

Nonfiction

Thin Places: A Natural History of Healing and Home by Kerri ní Dochartaigh

Kerri ní Dochartaigh was born in Derry halfway through The Troubles to a Protestant father and Catholic mother. She lost two homes in the span of one year, once due to a petrol bomb, and once due to harassment. To escape the violence in Derry, she found solace in the natural world, in her cement-filled backyard and “thin places” where the Veil between this world and the spiritual one is thin. ní Dochartaigh’s memoir is one of great sadness as she writes about the emotional scars that have shaped her entire life. Yet there is great beauty to be found in it as well, as she tenderly writes about her beloved thin places, the endangered Irish language, the resiliency of moths, and what it means to be an Irish woman. She also discusses violence in Northern Ireland following Brexit, and what she fears and hopes for Derry, the city she loves and hates. Often heartbreaking, Thin Places is a gorgeously written meditation on loss, trauma, and healing. 

Fiction

Factory Girls by Michelle Gallen

It’s 1994, and smart-mouthed Maeve cannot wait to get out of her small town in Northern Ireland and start studying journalism in London. She and her friends Caroline and Aoife must first get their exam results to confirm their places in their chosen universities. To save up for their futures, the three young women get jobs in the local shirt factory for the summer. The job brings new challenges Maeve has never faced before: ironing 100 shirts a day, working alongside Protestants for the first time, and avoiding the advances of the factory’s lecherous English owner, Andy Strawbridge. Tensions rise between the Catholic and Protestant workers whenever there’s a bombing or murder, which occurs all too frequently. As the summer goes on, Maeve starts to realize that there is something going on behind the scenes at the factory, but standing up for herself and her friends could cost her dearly. Flashbacks show Maeve’s experiences growing up during The Troubles, including the death of her elder sister and bombings that were called “lucky” because everyone survived. As a slice-of-life novel, the plot can feel thin at times. However, Maeve’s narration and snappy dialogue is laugh-out-loud funny, and watching her and her friends find their path to adulthood is satisfying. Though the main characters are teenagers, frequent sexual references make this a book better suited to an adult audience.

Dec. Book Recs: The Runners-Up

First off: sorry for only one post in November. I was sick for a couple weeks, and then had family visiting for Thanksgiving. But don’t worry, I’ve still got plenty to say about banned books! But first…

I read a lot of books this year. Not including my Did Not Finishes and picture books, I’ve read 56 books this year. That’s a lot, even for me. The vast majority were books I read for these monthly recommendation lists. I really enjoyed working on them, but each list took a lot of time and effort. That’s why I didn’t have any lists for July or August – I was simply too busy. For 2024, I’m going to do mini-recommendation lists, with only one or two books a month. 

Even though I read a lot, not every book I read made it onto the book recommendation lists. I limited myself to only 5 fiction books and 5 nonfiction books for each list. There were some great books that I really enjoyed that just didn’t make the cut. Even so, I felt like they were still worthy of sharing. So here it is: the final recommendation list of 2023: Books that Didn’t Make the Cut, but Are Still Good.

Nonfiction

Planting Stories: The Life of Librarian and Storyteller Pura Belpré / Sembrando historias: Pura Belpré: bibliotecaria y narradora de cuentos by Anika Aldamuy Denise. Illustrated by Paola Escobar

If there’s such a thing as a legendary librarian, it would be Pura Belpré. Originally from Puerto Rico, Belpré came to New York City for her sister’s wedding, and ended up staying for most of her life. She became the first Puerto Rican to be hired by the New York Public Library. There, she discovered her talent and passion for storytelling, though the library shelves lacked the stories she loved growing up in Puerto Rico. Throughout her life, Belpré wrote many children’s books based on Puerto Rican folklore, becoming one of the first Puerto Ricans to publish works in English in the U.S. Her work helped open up the library to the Latinx residents of New York City, and her stories continue to celebrate the culture she loved. Planting Stories is a picture book biography of Belpré’s life, with beautiful illustrations on each page. 

Why it didn’t make the cut: I really wanted to include something about Pura Belpré for Hispanic Heritage Month. Unfortunately, the only biography I found aimed towards adults (The Stories I Read to the Children by Laura Sánchez-González) isn’t easy to find unless you’re prepared to buy it. I found picture book biographies, but I didn’t want to showcase more than one picture book. I’d already decided on A Land of Books by Duncan Tonatiuh. His work is just so cool. I encourage everyone to learn about Pura Belpré, or at least read some Pura Belpré award winners! 

Signs of Survival: A Memoir of the Holocaust by Renee G. Hartman with Joshua M. Green

Two Jewish sisters – one hearing, one Deaf – recount their struggle to survive during World War II. During the Nazi occupation of what was Czechoslovakia, Renee was the only hearing person in her family. She had to be her family’s ears, listening for the sound of Nazi boots coming to take her family away. Renee and her younger sister, Herta, were eventually separated from their parents and shipped to Bergen-Belsen concentration camp. Using sign language to communicate, Renee and Herta had to rely on each other to survive. Presented as an oral history, both sisters recount their lives before and after the Holocaust in a tragic story of sisterhood and survival. 

Why it didn’t make the cut: I had this book as a potential pick for Disability Pride. After reading it, I realized that it didn’t fit the theme that well. It was more Renee’s story, rather than Herta’s. Regardless, their story is still powerful and important. 

And the Spirit Moved Them: The Lost Radical History of America’s First Feminists by Helen LaKelly Hunt

When did the feminist movement begin in the United States? With Susan B. Anthony and the Seneca Falls Convention in 1848? With Gloria Steinem in the 1960s? Hunt argues that the first feminist movement in the U.S. began with women like Lucretia Mott, Maria Weston Chapman, and Grace and Sarah Doughlass in the 1830s. These women railed against the patriarchal structures that treated them as unequal partners in the abolitionist movement. They bucked tradition and began their own interracial abolitionist movement, which included the Anti-Slavery Convention of American Women in 1837. Most of these women were moved to action by their Christian faith and felt “armed by God” as they denounced pro-slavery religious figures. Including photos and documents, this book is accessible to many readers who are interested in women’s history. 

Why it didn’t make the cut: It’s religious. The women being moved by their Christian faith wasn’t just a side-note, it’s a major point Hunt makes throughout the book. Towards the end, she calls for more faith-based feminism among women (of any faith, not just Christianity). There is nothing wrong with being religious, especially if your faith guides you to help others. I didn’t like how religion-focused it was, but it’s a book that many others would enjoy and even feel inspired by. 

The Immortal Life of Henrietta Lacks by Rebecca Skloot

In 1951, Henrietta Lacks’s cells were taken from her without her consent or knowledge. These cells continued to grow and divide long after Henrietta’s death. Her “immortal” cell line has contributed to scientific and medical discoveries for decades, from a polio vaccines to studying COVID-19, and even being sent to space. Yet Henrietta’s family never learned about the HeLa cell line until 1975. While her cells have helped so many people, her family lived in poverty and, ironically, could not afford health care. Rebecca Skloot was fascinated by Henrietta Lacks and her cells, and worked with Henrietta’s daughter, Deborah, to tell the story of Henrietta, HeLa cells, and the Lacks family today. This book is impossible to put down, and examines race, class, and ethics in medicine and science.

Why it didn’t make the cut: Even if you haven’t read this book, you’ve at least heard of it. And it is absolutely worth the hype. Though I did put some award-winners and best sellers on the lists, I wanted to highlight less well known books that are still praise-worthy and meaningful. But if you haven’t read this one yet, stop reading this and go read it. Go read it now. 

Fiction

The Marrow Thieves by Cherie Dimaline 

The planet has been ravaged by climate change, which has resulted in most of the world’s population losing the ability to dream. The Indigenous people of North America can still dream, and are hunted for their bone marrow.  After French loses his parents and his brother is captured and taken to the “schools” – a parallel to the Canadian residential boarding school system – he joins a group of other Indigenous people – old and young alike – who have fled the cities to stay safe. Led by Miigwans, they travel north, living off the land and learning each other’s histories while trying to avoid becoming victims of a genocide. 

Why it didn’t make the cut: It’s a dark story. Really dark. Rape and murder are commonplace in this new world. The ending is ultimately hopeful, but it’s a long, bleak trek to reach that conclusion. The horrors the characters in this book face parallel real world atrocities committed against Indigenous Americans, most saliently with references to residential schools. It’s an important story, but a hard book to read. 

The City Beautiful by Aden Polydoros

While the rest of Chicago is marveling at the 1893 World’s Fair, Altar Rosen is working hard to earn money to bring his mother and sisters to the United States from Romania. After his best friend, Yakov, is murdered at the Fair, Altar is possessed by Yakov’s dybbuk. Unless Altar can find Yakov’s killer and bring him to justice, Yakov’s dybbuk will permanently take over Altar’s body. But there’s no justice to be found for poor Jewish immigrants, even when their bodies start piling up. Altar has no choice but to work with his old “friend” Frankie. Frankie helped Altar survive when he first arrived in America, but he has dark secrets of his own. Together, they need to track down a dangerous serial killer targeting Jewish boys all the while Altar navigates his grief and comes to understand his feelings for Frankie. A queer historical thriller, steeped in Jewish mythology. Includes content warning, glossary, and author’s note.

Why it didn’t make the cut: I really liked this book, and originally planned on using it for Pride Month. But when it comes to Pride, there’s a lot to cover, and I wanted to get as much diversity as I could when it came to the LGBTQIA+ spectrum. But I loved The Darkness Outside Us even more. It destroyed me emotionally was one of my favorite books that I read all year, and I really wanted to showcase it. The City Beautiful was still a great read, and I’m excited to share it here. 

Loving vs. Virginia: A Documentary Novel of the Landmark Civil Rights Case by Patricia Hruby Powell

Based on the true story of Richard Loving and Mildred (Jeter) Loving, this is the story of two people whose love changed U.S. history for the better. Milly, who was Black, and Richard, who was White, lived in the small town of Central Point, Virginia, surrounded by family. While Black and White folks mixed freely in Central Point, the rest of the state still had strict segregation laws, including laws against interracial marriage and “miscengenation.” Milly and Richard were married in Washington D.C. in 1958. Upon returning home, they were both arrested for “cohabitating as man and wife” and faced a year of jail time unless they left Virginia. They moved to Washington D.C., but were virtually exiled from the home they loved, unable to see their families or cross state lines together. After one of their children was hit by a car (he survived, but was injured), Milly and Richard were determined to return home. Thus began the fight of their lives for their right to be married. A novel in verse, the Lovings’ story is told from both Richard and Milly’s perspective, with illustrations throughout that enhance the reading experience. The dual perspectives during their wedding is breath-taking (especially if you listen to it on audio while reading the book, like I did). Facts about Jim Crow and anti-miscegenation laws begin each chapter. 

Why it didn’t make the cut: I loved this book, and I could’ve used it for a few different themes. But every time I’d planned to use it, I discovered another book that I wanted to highlight, and Loving vs. Virginia got pushed to the backburner. This book is one of the big reasons I wanted to share “runners-up” for December! 

Dragonfly Eyes by Cao Wenxuan. Translated by Helen Wang. 

Dragonfly Eyes is a historical fiction novel that tells the story of Ah Mei and her French grandmother, Océane. Océane married into the wealthy Shanghainese Du Meixi family in the 1920s and would eventually move to Shanghai and raise her family there. Océane adores her youngest grandchild (and only granddaughter) Ah Mei. Their close bond carries both of them through the turbulent times: Japan’s invasion of China in the 1930s, famine in the 1950s, and finally the Chinese Cultural Revolution in the 1960s and 70s. An omniscient narrator describes Ah Mei and Océane’s lives with tender details amidst the historical backdrop. Ah Mei and Océane’s loving relationship is the heart of this novel, softening the harsh blows that buffet the family.

Why it didn’t make the cut: I didn’t like it. Omniscient narrators and a thin plot made it hard for me to get into this novel. The book was lovely in its own way, it but wasn’t for me.