The 47 people you'll meet in middle school / Kristin Mahoney.

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Title:

The 47 people you'll meet in middle school / Kristin Mahoney.

Author:

Mahoney, Kristin Mary

ISBN:

9781524765132

Edition:

First edition

Publication Information:

New York : Alfred A. Knopf, 2019.

Physical Description:

291 p. : ill.

Abstract:

Augusta writes letters to her younger sister, Louie, about life in middle school, from tackling a new school building to meeting new people like the assistant principal, the class pet, and the renegade.

Subject Term:

Sisters -- Juvenile fiction.

Letters -- Juvenile fiction.

Middle schools -- Juvenile fiction.

Schools -- Juvenile fiction.

Available:*

Library	Material Type	Item Barcode	Shelf Number	Status
Searching... Avon-Washington Township Public Library	Juvenile Fiction Book Hardback	120791002771949	J MAH	Searching... Unknown

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Summary

Dear Louie,
You've been asking and asking about what middle school is like, but I just thought they were annoying-younger-sister questions. Even though I am almost done with my first year, I can still remember when I thought middle school was a mystery, so I'll try to give you a leg up. I know middle school is a lot to figure out. But since I still haven't worked it all out yet, I'm happy to help as much as I can. That's what big sisters are for.
Love, Gus

Discover the ins and outs of middle school in this guide from an older sister to her younger sister. From tackling a new building to meeting new people like the assistant principal, the class pet, the Huggers, the renegade, the tomato kid, your old best friend's new best friend, this is a must-read for everyone starting middle school.

With wit and warmth, Kristin Mahoney, author of Annie's Life in Lists, delivers heartwarming, pitch-perfect advice, ideal for anyone nervously approaching middle school.

Reviews (5)

Publisher's Weekly Review

On the last day of school before Thanksgiving break, sixth-grader Augusta begins a letter to her younger sister, Louisa, whose curiosity about middle school life usually receives an "it's fine, whatever." The missive tells Lou what to expect ("Lockers are not as exciting as everyone thinks they'll be"), and subsequent chapters detail the people one meets in middle school via Gus's experience during her first months. (Entries include "the huggers," "the scary teacher," and "the friend you don't recognize because she turned into a whole new person over the summer.") Gus's best friend is loving life at a different school, but Gus struggles to find pals who truly get her, deal with a group of bullying girls, and adjust to her parents' divorce. The narrative reveals Gus to be a sympathetically flawed character whose growth is realistically wrought as she seeks to find herself and her village, and secondary characters are fully fleshed out as well. Mahoney authentically captures the universal indignities of middle school, the challenges of self-discovery, and the joy of making true friends. Ages 8--12. (Aug.)

Booklist Review

Middle school is a strange time, and Augusta (or Gus) isn't sure how to handle it all. Her parents are getting divorced, her best friend is going to a different school, a group of mean girls is teasing her, and she's not sure who would make a good new friend. Through chapters conceptualized as a list of letters to a younger sister, Gus tells about all the people she's met in school, chronicling her journey of awkward moments, new friendships, emotional turmoil, and that middle-grade feeling of wondering what others think of you and not being sure who you are. Mahoney writes with painful accuracy of what it's like to experience the tween years, and her description of middle school will have kids nodding their heads in agreement. As Gus finds her voice and her village, the story reminds readers that they aren't alone in navigating the wild waters of middle school. A pitch-perfect must-read for tweens seeking comfort about growing up.--Sarah Bean Thompson Copyright 2019 Booklist

New York Review of Books Review

WHEN IT COMES to crossing the border between childhood and adolescence, sixth grade functions as customs department. Elementary travelers, supremely confident on their home soil, enter their inaugural year of middle school clutching their locker combinations like passports. A few crushes, heartbreaks and misunderstood text messages later, they emerge on the other side, wide-eyed and wiser at having declared their intentions and identity. Three new novels explore this transition, preparing readers for their tumultuous journey into tweendom. THE 47 PEOPLE YOU'LL MEET IN MIDDLE SCHOOL (Knopf, 304 pp., $16.99; ages 8 to 12), by Kristin Mahoney, is a literal guidebook to this new land. Big sister Augusta, or Gus, attempts to explain the mysteries of sixth grade to little Lou by describing all the characters she encounters at Meridian Middle. (Thankfully, unlike the main character in the similarly named adult novel by Mitch Albom, Gus doesn't have to die first.) The lineup includes several familiar folks who will be instantly recognizable to current and former middle schoolers, including the "scary teacher," the "friend you don't recognize because she turned into a whole new person over the summer" and the "kid with questionable hygiene." As she proceeds through the list, a story emerges of Gus's slowly growing confidence, the reverberating impact of an amicable but still distressing divorce on her family, and the exciting, frustrating process of finding "your people... the ones who make you feel at home in your own skin," as explained by amiable Mrs. Barakat, the "favorite teacher." While many of the scenarios Gus outlines are prosaic (the ill-advised snoop in the teacher's desk, the school dance that goes all kinds of wrong), she does have a memorable #MeToo moment when she brings down "The Gooser," the school's notorious butt-pincher, via anonymous note. Because even in the minds of modern middle schoolers well versed in antibullying rhetoric, snitches can still get stitches. As Gus wearily observes, "Sometimes you can't depend on teachers to save the day." If Gus occasionally sounds a tad too perceptive for a sixth grader ("It was like I didn't just need physical space; I also needed space in my head. For all the things I was starting to wonder about more"), it works here, because, as every middle school student (and parent) knows, "Reflecting is a big thing middle school teachers are into." What this novel's target audience wants is reassurance, which Gus's confused yet consoling voice provides in spades. IN PABLO CARTAYA'S EACH TINY SPARK (Kokila, 315 pp., $16.99; ages 8 to 12), a Sixth grader who already feels different because of her A.D.H.D. diagnosis begins to feel like a stranger in her own suburban Atlanta town. When Emilia is assigned to create a tourist guide for Merryville, she starts to see the cultural differences and economic inequalities between her community and that of Park View, a neighboring district. These discrepancies are further highlighted by a proposal to move hundreds of students from overcrowded Park View schools to upscale Merryville Middle. When Emilia's project calls attention to the disparities, she unwittingly fuels a bitter confrontation between her divided classmates. But the disagreement also fires up the students and ignites a palpable interest in the social justice history of their town. Through research conducted with a quintessentially cheerful public librarian, Emilia is at first delighted to discover the outsize role Mexican immigrants played in constructing the 1996 Atlanta Summer Olympics infrastructure, then dismayed to learn that Georgia's current immigration laws could now force those same people to be deported. The project spurs Emelia's personal growth, helping her navigate equally challenging situations at home, including a distant father who's freshly returned from a lengthy military deployment, and generational conflict between her traditional Catholic abuela and progressive, Afro-Cuban mom. Emilia's dialogue with her familia and her best friend, Gustavo, is sprinkled with Spanish expressions and sentences, adding a welcome ambient cultural tone to the story that encourages non-Spanish readers to draw meaning from context. While the social justice plot will appeal to today's increasingly civic-minded students, where Cartaya really excels is depicting what it feels like inside Emilia's brain. In his author's note, he reveals that his own child has A.D.H.D., and explains with an easy knowledge how Emilia's brain can pingpong from subject to subject when she's distracted ("My middle name is Rose also. Actually, it's Rosa - same as my mom's middle name. Emilia Rosa... on the History Channel I watched a show about a time in England called the War of the Roses. There were two families fighting for the crown and they had a brutal war for centuries") but then home in to a razor focus when she's engaged in something she loves, like the car restoration project she takes on with her dad: "The heat rises and pours out of the gun, sending sparks in every direction. The dark glass protecting my eyes lights up, and the clack-clack-clack illuminates sparks all around me ... they die down as I release the trigger. I place the welding gun safely on the workbench and flip up my shade." Learning the basics of welding from Papi, Emilia finally breaks through her father's emotional wall and earns the nickname "Chispita" ("little spark"). Readers will be inspired by her dogged determination and propulsive curiosity to generate and nurture their own sparks of creativity, leadership or passion. ELEVEN-YEAR-OLD Willa IS Still In fifth grade, but sixth looms large in her imagination throughout NOT IF I CAN HELP IT (Scholastic, 240 pp., $16.99, ages 8 to 12), by Carolyn Mackler. Willa has sensory processing disorder, which for her means an extreme aversion to certain tastes, textures and smells, combined with swings in energy and mood. Socks feel too tight, showers are "too many prickles poking my skin, too much water in my eyes." Her occupational therapist gives her coping strategies for controlling her body, and she maintains a private routine of reminders and checklists at home so she can keep her condition a secret at school, even from her best friend, Ruby. Because of this, Willa dreads change of any kind, and no change is more unavoidable than sixth grade. It is middle school acceptance letter season at her elementary school on the Upper West Side of Manhattan, and everyone is speculating about where they will be next year. What if she doesn't get into the school of her choice? Worse yet, "what if Ruby and I get into different middle schools and have to be ripped apart after only one year of best friendship? That would be the worst kind of change ever." Willa's worries are quickly replaced by much bigger concerns after Willa's dad and Ruby's mom, both divorced, announce that they have been quietly dating for a year and are considering marriage. While Ruby is thrilled that she and Willa could be stepsisters, Willa is immediately thrown into a tailspin. "I don't want new smells, new furniture, new foods in the fridge ... but mostly I don't want to hide who I am, all the Private Willa stuff, in my own home." And there's the sock rub. If Ruby joins her family and discovers the truth, will she still want to be Willa's best friend? After all, "a friend is nice to have over, but friends go home. They don't stay forever." Like Pablo Cartaya, Mackler is also the parent of a neurodivergent child. She writes convincingly and compassionately of Willa's particular struggles, in an insecure yet ebullient voice that also captures the universal awkwardness of being 11. Who wouldn't relate to the fear of being exposed? By weaving sensory processing disorder in with more typical issues of privacy, divorce and friendship woes, Mackler explains behaviors that children often make fun of but never ask about. Willa's experience will be a revelation to kids who didn't know about the disorder, and a comfort to those who share her condition or know someone who does. Middle school is the very embodiment of the familiar phrase "It's not the destination, it's the journey," and these smartly rendered books are worthy travel companions for young adventurers making their first trip.

School Library Journal Review

Gr 4--6--An insightful and humorous tale of transitioning from elementary to middle school. Gus, short for Augusta, is a brand-new sixth grader at Meridian Middle School. Not only does she have to start her new school with glasses even though her parents promised she could have contacts, but her BFF has to go to a completely different school. The book is written as a letter to Gus's fourth grader sister who keeps asking about middle school but is ignored while Gus deals with her own issues. As readers follow Gus in her journey navigating the ins and outs of middle school and her parents' divorce, they are introduced to people, both friends and enemies, she meets along the way. Old acquaintances turn into good friends, bad and good teachers' classrooms are navigated, and Mahoney explores physical assault and consent through the inclusion of an older student who likes to "goose" girls' behinds. The book never really mentions any character's physical traits beyond their hair color and style. VERDICT Smart, funny, and well paced, this is a solid purchase for any older elementary or middle school collection.--Sara Brunkhorst, Glenview Public Library, IL

Kirkus Review

Augusta is starting middle schooland dealing with her parents' recent divorce as well.Gus tells the story as a letter for her younger sister, Louisa, to read later. This useful narrative tool also enables her to gradually discover and reveal that Lou is having lots of trouble coping with the parental breakup too even though Gus is initially too wrapped up in herself to notice. Gus encounters lots of new people in middle school, as well as some whom she previously knew but who have remade themselves in not-always-pleasant ways. Among these are her former BFF, Layla, who's attending a different school, and the previously annoyingly clingy Marcy, who has now attached herself to a couple of unkind and remarkably condescending other girls. From the Binaca breath spray-addicted Mr. Smeed to Nick, whom Gus has known for years but who is now becoming interesting in a novel, unexpected way, characters are believably well drawn, as are the humiliations and the ultimate redemption that Gus discovers. Some of the episodes, like Gus' Binaca-based gambling pool, are laugh-out-loud funny. While Mahoney's road map to middle school won't become required reading, it's a fine and highly recommended travelogue for those just entering that uncharted territory. Gus presents white on the cover; though she's surrounded by a multiracial cast there, descriptors within are few.Amusing, enlightening, and ideal for a final read just before middle school. (Fiction. 9-12) Copyright Kirkus Reviews, used with permission.

Excerpts

I wish I could tell you that the first person I saw on the first day of school was someone I knew. It was not. I made Dad drop me off two blocks from school that morning. This was partly because I wasn't sure what the routine was in middle school, and I didn't want to be the only kid whose parent took them right to the front door. But this was mostly because Dad's car was in the shop again and--as you may recall from the first day of school, Lou--he had borrowed the radio-station van to drive for a few days. Some people's parents have a clean, fancy company car to drive for work; lucky us that our dad gets a bright green van that actually has wold: your favorite oldies painted on the side in orange letters. For first-day-of-school arrival? No thank you. As I rounded the corner by Meridian Middle, I saw a crowd of kids who were all complete strangers. They also all looked way older than me. And they seemed like they all knew each other. I knew that more than half the kids at Meridian Middle were coming from a different elementary school than ours, but it still seemed like I should know someone. I started wondering if I was in the right place. Turns out, I was not. And apparently I had I am in sixth grade--please help me written on my forehead, because a teacher holding a clipboard actually pointed at me and yelled across the heads of the other kids, "You! Glasses! Blue backpack! Sixth grade?" You wouldn't think that "glasses" and "blue backpack" would be sufficient identifiers. I mean, other kids had glasses and blue backpacks. But I guess this teacher's pointing was laser-sharp, because about a hundred kids turned and looked right at me after he yelled. "Um, yes?" I answered, almost in a whisper (and still wondering where the heck everyone I knew was). "What was that?" "Yes. Sixth," I said, slightly louder. "Back door!" the teacher yelled. "Didn't your parents get the email?" By this point the teacher was making his way over, clapping students on the back, saying hello, and telling some of them to spit out their gum. He was wearing a golf shirt with the school logo on it. The shirt strained over his belly and was tucked snugly into his khaki pants. I wondered how he got his shirt to stay tucked so tight, especially with a big belly. Did he buy extra-long shirts? "Did your parents get the email?" he asked again. "I'm not sure?" I said. Since the weekend before school started had been one of our weekends at Dad's apartment, it was possible I wasn't operating with complete information. (You know he's not so great about reading emails thoroughly.) I began to wonder what else he'd missed. "Well," the teacher explained, "this is the eighth-grade entrance. Sixth graders go to the back." "Oh, okay." That seemed pretty inhospitable to me, making the new kids go to the back door. But I wasn't going to argue. I turned and started walking down the path that wound around to the back of the building. "Heeey, Little Gus!" I heard someone call. I knew it had to be a kid from our neighborhood, since he was calling me Gus and not Augusta. I turned and, sure enough, there was Rob Vinson, talking to some other eighth-grade boys. Even though Rob is kind of dopey, he's usually an okay kid. He's always been Mom and Dad's first choice to walk Iris when we're gone on a day trip somewhere, and he was never jerky to us like some of the other older neighborhood boys were. So hearing his familiar voice on the first day of school was simultaneously comforting and embarrassing. (Why did he have to call me Little Gus in front of everyone else? Ugh.) "It's my neighbor!" Rob announced, not that the boys he was with seemed to care. "What are you doing on this side of the building, Little Gus?" he asked. "I got the entrance wrong. That teacher told me to go around back," I said, pointing to the man with the super-tight tuck-in. "That's not a teacher, Gus," Rob said. "That's an assistant principal. Mr. Wyatt. You don't want to tangle with him." "I didn't tangle with him," I said. "He just told me I had the wrong door." "Okay, well, watch yourself with that one. If he told you to go to the back door, you'd better go fast. Why are you still standing here?" "Because you're still talking to me!" "Nah, you better go, Little Gus!" Rob shooed me away like I was a pesky dog, never mind that he had been the one detaining me. I rolled my eyes and went around to the back of the building. And that's where I saw all the kids I knew. All the kids whose parents had read the email properly. That night I got in a fight with Mom because I told her she needed to make sure Dad read his emails all the way through. And I may have said something like, "If you guys still lived together, we wouldn't have these problems." And then Mom felt like dirt, and so did I. I don't know if you remember that fight, Lou, or if you even heard it. You were standing at the kitchen sink making one of your "potions." (This one contained olive oil, flower petals, and dish soap.) It seemed like you were in your own world. Until you announced that the potion was going to be a special doggy-fur conditioner for Iris, and Mom took one look at it and said there was no way you were going to rub olive oil on the dog. That's when you snapped back into our world and asked what we were talking about, and I just said, "School." That was the first time you asked me to tell you what middle school was like. That was the first time I said, "It's fine, whatever," and went upstairs to my room. Anyway, now you know a little. Sixth graders go to the back door. And don't tangle with Mr. Wyatt. He was the first person I met in middle school. And unfortunately, I would meet him again. Excerpted from The 47 People You'll Meet in Middle School by Kristin Mahoney All rights reserved by the original copyright owners. Excerpts are provided for display purposes only and may not be reproduced, reprinted or distributed without the written permission of the publisher.