So I’m back with another notable author, Elizabeth Acevedo. Originally Acevedo had wanted to be a rapper, inspired by her neighbohood and Afro-Latin heritage to rap about the abuelas who fed her pastelitos and the racism and sexism she faced. But since that was too “soft” for the rap word, she switched to spoken word and slam poetry. Since then she has used her natural flow to create accesible yet beautiful prose detailing such themes as family, self realization, culture and more.

I already wrote a little about With the Fire on High so I’ll keep it short. It’s a traditional prose story compared to her other two that utilize spoken word rhythm. It follows rising senior Emoni, a teen mom as she struggles to decide what to do next with her life. Go to college as her abuela wishes her so she can get a stable job to support her daughter. Or follow her dream to become a professional chef plus the more urgent need to get a job so she can have the financial stability of supporting her family now. not only does it deliciously describe Emoni’s dishes, but emotionally connects how food brings people together and taps into memories and emotion. It’s not just a need for nourishment. Plus it speaks powerfully and realistically about teen mom-hood, stereotyping and love, familial and romance-wise.

I had to read The Poet X for class, which was my first brush with Acevedo’s works and unlike other school-required books, it blew me away. Tackling immigrant parent/cultural expectation, religion and burgeoning sexuality and romance as an adolescent, Acevedo paints a poignant story through Xiomara as she tries to find her voice and her independence. It shows the push-pull between generations and expectation as Xiomara feels inferior to her twin brother, to her hardworking mother and saintly friend. She feels like the “bad girl” image her mother accuses her of when she finds her romancing her classmate. It dives into an explosive confrentation but it is not one sided as Acevedo makes sure to explain Xio’s mother’s position and how she grew up with such strict double standards for women and men. This all leads eventually to understanding but it is a great read to see the journey unfold.

Clap When You Land was inspired by a Dominican tradition to clap after a plane lands safely, celebrating that everyone made it alive. This is not true for the protagonists’ father. When Camino and Yahaira Rinos’ father dies during a downed plane flight, it changes both their lives. In the midst of their grief, the half sisters meet each other for the first time. You see, Yahaira’s mother married their father first but he moved on, to her best friend no less, moving to NY. Yes, he continues to pay support and visit every summer but for the most part Yahaira’s father is a loving but distant shadow. After her mother’s death, she stays with her grandmother, hoping to go farther in the world as a healer like her abuela. And also escape the man who keeps offering to “protect” her.

Camino is a chess master, honors student and all around best breed with a loving father who’s away on business but loves her anyway. With his death, she is crushed and moreso when she learns of his secret other family. Hoping for closure and to learn more, she journeys to the Dominican Republic, learning and finding more about herself, Yahaira and the connections to the father they loved. It delves into sexual assault, bits of colorism and privilige and the many facets to family and grief that make it a compelling read I get into every summer. Every time I feel like I find something new.

So if you have an apetite for introspective characters with an relaxing internal pattern delivering nuanced looks into Afro-Latinas growing into their own, please read Elizabeth Acevedo. She always hits the right spot.