You Say Overachiever Like It's a Bad Thing
Shayna Johnson is a black lesbian witch. These all play a part in her life so the author lets us know about them up front, although the revelations come at different parts of the beginning chapters. It’s the witchcraft that initially seems of most importance since Shayna lives in a world where magic is not only known but shared by a large part of the community.
She’s eager to prove herself at a school where her being black isn’t something she can hide. It’s one of those exclusive schools, the kind you can’t get into unless you live in a certain district or fit a certain demographic (read: rich, white). Her mother had to be a little devious but Shayna made it in and now succeeds because she strives hard and studies like a workhorse.
But racist stereotypes persist and are more troublesome than the magic she’s learned to manifest as electricity sparkling from her hands. It doesn’t help that there’s another black girl whom the others confuse her with, even though they look nothing alike.
Thus the author gives us a magical world where sorcerous powers aren’t enough to protect a person from outdated bigotry. That means the magic becomes ordinary, like wallpaper, playing a mere backdrop to the kinds of problems modern teenagers face in their mundane lives. This doesn’t lessen the power of magic (the opening chapter features an amusing mishap with a potion and a houseplant) but means the reader can focus on Shayna as a person and not, say, a Chosen One.
Ms. Brophy does a very able job of getting us into Shayna’s head, her emotions and intellect. Her love for her parents shines through even when she’s embarrassed by them. Her rivalry with the competitive Ana Álvarez resonates with anybody who’s ever had to deal with that mean kid who always seemed to get ahead without any visible effort.
This book will agree with the YA crowd and perhaps with anybody who wished that Harry Potter’s world had had a little more racial diversity in it.
She’s eager to prove herself at a school where her being black isn’t something she can hide. It’s one of those exclusive schools, the kind you can’t get into unless you live in a certain district or fit a certain demographic (read: rich, white). Her mother had to be a little devious but Shayna made it in and now succeeds because she strives hard and studies like a workhorse.
But racist stereotypes persist and are more troublesome than the magic she’s learned to manifest as electricity sparkling from her hands. It doesn’t help that there’s another black girl whom the others confuse her with, even though they look nothing alike.
Thus the author gives us a magical world where sorcerous powers aren’t enough to protect a person from outdated bigotry. That means the magic becomes ordinary, like wallpaper, playing a mere backdrop to the kinds of problems modern teenagers face in their mundane lives. This doesn’t lessen the power of magic (the opening chapter features an amusing mishap with a potion and a houseplant) but means the reader can focus on Shayna as a person and not, say, a Chosen One.
Ms. Brophy does a very able job of getting us into Shayna’s head, her emotions and intellect. Her love for her parents shines through even when she’s embarrassed by them. Her rivalry with the competitive Ana Álvarez resonates with anybody who’s ever had to deal with that mean kid who always seemed to get ahead without any visible effort.
This book will agree with the YA crowd and perhaps with anybody who wished that Harry Potter’s world had had a little more racial diversity in it.