Resistance and persistence collide in Alberto Rios’s sixteenth book, Not Go Away Is My Name, a book about past and present, changing and unchanging, letting go and holding on. The borderline between Mexico and the U.S. looms large, and Ríos sheds light on and challenges our sensory experiences of everyday objects. At the same time, family memories and stories of the Sonoron desert weave throughout as Ríos travels in duality: between places, between times, and between lives. In searching for and treasuring what ought to be remembered, Ríos creates an ode to family life, love and community, and realizes “All I can do is not go away. / Not go away is my name.”

A touching, timely and tender exploration of refugees and migration for the youngest readers.

“The harrowing story of the slaughter of two million Pontic Greeks and Armenians in Turkey after WWI comes to vivid life. . . . eloquent and powerful.” —Publishers Weekly Not Even My Name exposes the genocide carried out during and after WWI in Turkey, which brought to a tragic end the 3000-year history of the Pontic Greeks (named for the Pontic Mountain range below the Black Sea). During this time, almost 2 million Pontic Greeks and Armenians were slaughtered and millions of others were exiled. Not Even My Name is the unforgettable story of Sano Halo’s survival, as told to her daughter, Thea, and of their trip to Turkey in search of Sano’s home seventy years after her exile. Sano Halo was a 10-year-old girl when she was torn from her ancient, pastoral way of life in the mountains and sent on a death march that annihilated her family. Stripped of everything she had ever held dear, even her name, Sano was sold by her surrogate family into marriage when she was fifteen to a man three times her age. Not Even My Name follows Sano’s marriage, the raising of her ten children in New York City and her transformation from an innocent girl to a nurturing mother and determined woman in twentieth-century New York City. “An important and revealing book.” —Library Journal “What illuminates the writing is Halo’s heartfelt love for her brave mother. An unforgettable book.” —Booklist

New York Times Bestseller! Just How Big Can a Little Girl Dream? Ask Isabella... She takes a wild ride-and discovers the sky's the limit! "This story...speaks frankly about self-identity and self affirmation as Isabella decides at the end that she is actually herself...because she possesses the best parts of all of the women she looks up to." -ForeWord Magazine "The colorful mixed-media artwork reinforces the fanciful, upbeat tone of the book. Use this story to ignite young readers' interest in women's history." -School Library Journal Who Is Your Hero? Isabella's include U.S. Astronaut Sally Ride, activist Rosa Parks, and sharpshooter Annie Oakley-but there's no bigger hero than Isabella's own mommy! Join Isabella on an adventure of discovery-and find out how imagining to be these extraordinary women teaches her the importance of being her extraordinary self. A rollicking read-aloud and terrific "read-to-myself" story, My Name Is Not Isabella is capturing hearts and awards, including: Silver ForeWord Book of the Year Award for Picture Books Gold Moonbeam Children's Book Award Gold Independent Publisher Book Award Amelia Bloomer List Jennifer Fosberry is a science geek turned children's book writer. Until recently, she worked as a project manager in Silicon Valley in the high-tech electronic field. She currently divides her time between the San Francisco Bay Area and Costa Rica with her husband and three children. Mike Litwin combines a variety of media to create scenes that serve the imagination and education of women. A graduate of the East Carolina University School of Art and Design, he plays both designer and illustrator with an often wacky, always delightful style that uniquely blends playful innocence with devilish mischief. Illustrating and telling stories for children is his passion, his entertainment, and his dream. He currently lives in Greenville, North Carolina, with his wife and three daughters.

My parents always told me I was Mexican. I was Mexican because they were Mexican. This was sometimes modified to ÒMexican American,Ó since I was born in California, and thus automatically a U.S. citizen. But, my parents said, this, too, was once part of Mexico. My father would say this with a sweeping gesture, taking in the smog, the beautiful mountains, the cars and houses and fast-food franchises. When he made that gesture, all was cleared away in my mindÕs eye to leave the hazy impression of a better place. We were here when the white people came, the Spaniards, then the Americans. And we will be here when they go away, he would say, and it will be part of Mexico again. Thus begins a lyrical and entirely absorbing collection of personal essays by esteemed Chicana writer and gifted storyteller Kathleen Alcal‡. Loosely linked by an exploration of the many meanings of Òfamily,Ó these essays move in a broad arc from the stories and experiences of those close to her to those whom she wonders about, like Andrea Yates, a mother who drowned her children. In the process of digging and sifting, she is frequently surprised by what she unearths. Her family, she discovers, were Jewish refugees from the Spanish Inquisition who took on the trappings of Catholicism in order to survive. Although the essays are in many ways personal, they are also universal. When she examines her family history, she is encouraging us to inspect our own families, too. When she investigates a family secret, she is supporting our own search for meaning. And when she writes that being separated from our indigenous culture is Òa form of illiteracy,Ó we know exactly what she means. After reading these essays, we find that we have discovered not only why Kathleen Alcal‡ is a writer but also why we appreciate her so much. She helps us to find ourselves.

A gorgeously written account of a freeborn black boy sold into slavery during the Civil War; think 12 Years a Slave for young adults. Well-mannered Samuel and his mischievous younger brother Joshua are free black boys living in an orphanage during the end of the Civil War. Samuel takes the blame for Joshua's latest prank, and the consequence is worse than he could ever imagine. He's taken from the orphanage to the South, given a new name -- Friday -- and sold into slavery. What follows is a heartbreaking but hopeful account of Samuel's journey from freedom, to captivity, and back again.

There's an empty notebook lying on the table in the moonlight. It's been there for an age. I keep on saying that I'll write a journal. So I'll start right here, right now. I open the book and write the very first words: My name is Mina and I love the night. Then what shall I write? I can't just write that this happened then this happened then this happened to boring infinitum. I'll let my journal grow just like the mind does, just like a tree or a beast does, just like life does. Why should a book tell a tale in a dull straight line? And so Mina writes and writes in her notebook, and here is her journal, Mina's life in Mina's own words: her stories and dreams, experiences and thoughts, her scribblings and nonsense, poems and songs. Her vivid account of her vivid life. In this stunning book, David Almond revisits Mina before she has met Michael, before she has met Skellig. Shortlisted for the 2012 Carnegie Medal.