Decades before the events traced in this narrative nonfiction work that’s focused on the massacre of 18 Chinese men in 1871 Los Angeles, Blackburne writes, difficulties in China prompted thousands of young men to seek gold in California. When it proved elusive, “these travelers chased their fortune in other ways, as doctors and launderers, cooks and gangsters. Vegetable peddlers and houseboys.// As immigrants. Humans.” Contextualizing lines introduce Los Angeles and, briefly, three men who lived there in the 1860s, during a time when physical violence toward Chinese people increased. A conflict that escalated in 1871 resulted in the deaths of 18 Chinese men and the destruction of Chinese businesses by a violent mob. Fire-oriented metaphors that hint at the coming conflagration describe growing tensions, while Xu’s thick-lined ink and digital media illustrations incorporate images of fire, smoke, and sparks. A historical note and bibliography conclude. Ages 7–11. (Mar.)

Reviewed on 03/07/2025 | Details & Permalink

A Chinese grandfather enthralls his grandson in this lightly fantastical work about a traditional celebration. The night before the Dragon Festival, Yeye tells the story of how the annual event got started. According to legend, the guardian dragons in every lake and river once carried the sun’s warmth, the sea’s breezes, and the sky’s rain to help humankind. When the Dragon King befriended poet Qu Yuan, the writer incorporated the dragon’s words “into poems about raindrops and rivers, the stars and the moon,” Matula notes. He also encouraged villagers to bang drums on launched boats by way of expressing resonant appreciation for the dragon’s guardianship. After the child dreams of dragons, the narrative picks up with a beat-by-beat accounting of the next day’s race, including the child’s small offering to “our dragon.” Wong’s finely detailed illustrations gesture at deep intergenerational affection while combining the detailed wonders of the dragon story with the day-of thrill of the race. Background characters are portrayed with various skin tones. Back matter includes an author’s note and recipe. Ages 6–7. (Apr.)

Reviewed on 03/07/2025 | Details & Permalink

“Mama calls me her little bird. I’m always whispering in her ear, telling her everything that’s going on,” begins this enthusiastic picture book narrated by a child, Laila, who often translates English for her Chinese-speaking parents. “It’s pretty cool being so important all the time,” but, Laila admits, “it’s also a lot of work.” When English classes for her parents prove spendy (“People say America is free, but it’s actually really expensive”), Laila offers to teach them—though she’s still learning idioms (“Maybe I can spread my wings and try!”). As the winning, bright-eyed protagonist takes the lead, Yang and Yan focus on sunny, funny moments while lightly acknowledging that “it’s not easy teaching old birds new tricks.” Digital paintings feature fully realized, expressive figures against desaturated scenery. Background characters are portrayed with various skin tones. Ages 5–9. (Apr.)

Reviewed on 03/07/2025 | Details & Permalink

A child pushes back against colorism in an effervescent picture book that considers themes of ancestry. In Ito Ward’s simile-driven text, a young narrator begins, “My obaa has skin like the moon./ Soft and pale,/ It glows and glistens/ like a lantern sent out to sea.” The child’s own skin is compared to sand, with freckles “like shells adorning the shore.” Though some advise staying out of the sun (“Don’t let her skin get too dark” notes a voice from beneath a parasol), the girl nevertheless surfs and scrambles up a mountain path. “Mama says my skin tells a story/ of an adventure over the ocean,” represented by ancestors sailing from Japan to the Hawaiian Islands, and leading to “old roots planted in new soil.” Abary’s digital illustrations combine textures of airbrush, gouache, and ink to render distinctive mountainous landscapes in this sprightly work about how “I wasn’t made for the shade:/ I was made for more.” An author’s note concludes. Ages 4–8. (Feb.)

Reviewed on 03/07/2025 | Details & Permalink

Born into a family being “punished for being on the losing side” of a long war, the child narrator of this contemplative picture book by Thai explains how “every day felt like it could be our last.” The protagonist’s mother sells all the family’s possessions for gold, then carefully strikes a deal. In the night, the family of four surreptitiously make their way to a wooden boat, where they’re squeezed in tightly with others. Food and water run out as the boat travels down a river to the sea. Out on the ocean (“So big, so deep”), a storm threatens to sink the craft, until a vast ship appears and waits hours to bring the passengers aboard. Unadorned prose renders life-or-death moments throughout, not shying away from recollected experiences of fear. Dao’s stark digital illustrations, meanwhile, mimic stamp and watercolor textures as the pink-clad narrator worries—and later dreams—about sinking into the sea (“It would be as if we were never here, or never even existed”). A note discusses the author’s flight from Vietnam at age three. Ages 4–8. (Mar.)

Reviewed on 03/07/2025 | Details & Permalink

A set of tiny seashells anchors this personal telling of Japanese American incarceration during WWII that’s narrated by the protagonist’s grandchild. On Dec. 7, 1941, a family enjoys a “bright Sunday, like every other Sunday” at home in Hawai‘i, as “my grandfather” teaches his children the Latin names of the seashells they stack and sort. But warplanes and radio reportage break the quiet: “America and Japan—the two countries of their hearts—are at war.” Food shortages, discrimination, and incarceration for the protagonist follow; when the narrator’s grandfather isn’t laboring at an island prison camp, he searches for shells, tucking the smallest into matchboxes and creating a collection that’s eventually passed down to the narrator. Images of the author’s grandfather’s shells and fabric textures from familial garments anchor airbrush-like illustrations of the family in a simply told, inheritance-focused narrative from Fujimoto-Johnson that’s, per an endnote, based on a family story. Ages 4–8. (Apr.)

Reviewed on 03/07/2025 | Details & Permalink

A seven-year-old schemes to win prize money at her cousin’s wedding in a lively picture book that centers South Asian wedding traditions. Lulu, who has determined that weddings are good for “one thing... prize money,” recollects the games played at previous such events, including blocking the groom’s entrance, stealing his shoes, and returning the shoes for “money... fame and fortune!” Being both underestimated and thwarted by three older cousins finds her ever more frustrated, but taking a breather under Nani’s shawl gives Lulu encouragement and leads to sweet moments of victory—and generosity, too. Kazi’s watercolor textures and digital palette of turquoise, magenta, and melon further brighten a high-energy family story that underlines how “laughter helps two families become one big family.” Characters are portrayed with various skin tones. A note about South Asian wedding customs and a glossary conclude. Ages 4–8. (Apr.)

Reviewed on 03/07/2025 | Details & Permalink

A child celebrating an ancestor’s birthday walks with family to a city landmark in this extended familial telling. Narrator Mei knows Great-Great-Grandfather Samuel Gong Moy was “the second American-born Chinese person in Washington, DC.” Every year on the anniversary of his birthday, the family takes a photo beneath the Friendship Archway, a place that’s “like us—from China but also American.” En route this year, Mom, with Mei’s help, details family history behind how Samuel’s father came to live in the city. When they arrive at the arch, crowds of people are protesting (“Hate is a virus” reads one sign), and Mei is, seemingly without warning, thrust onstage to share the tale. Chen’s light-infused digital illustrations mimic watercolor, artfully distinguishing flashbacks via desaturation. Lengthy text saps energy from the anecdotal narrative, but readers should appreciate the meaningful conceit of this work by Chase: “We are American, too!” Background characters are portrayed with various skin tones. An author’s note concludes. Ages 4–6. (June)

Reviewed on 03/07/2025 | Details & Permalink

An enlivening bicycle trip closes the emotional distance between a parent and child in Sterling’s serene tale. At dinnertime each night, Mateo and Dad “look at each other, but we don’t really see each other.” When they head to a family reunion in the Philippines, “where Dad grew up,” though, “I start to see him differently.” The pair rent bikes to reach Dad’s hometown, along the way taking a boat ride, visiting a coconut plantation, and encountering situations that teach Mateo about the concept of bayanihan—community help for a neighbor. Austria’s digital illustrations render the lush landscape in greens, golds, and oranges, a palette that invigorates the duo’s return home, where the family toasts “new beginnings and bayanihan!” Ages 3–7. (Mar.)

Reviewed on 03/07/2025 | Details & Permalink

“What if the main trait shared by all intelligent lives in the Universe was a particularly enthusiastic passion for questions?” asks Duthie in this intriguing volume—poised as the first scientifically verified extraterrestrial message received Earth-side—that explores fundamental philosophical concepts. The book, an archly written introduction states, was found in a donut-shaped spacecraft one year back on a Spanish beach, and subsequent pages hypothesize that it was created by the inhabitants of the planet Biopia, who have been studying Earthlings for “at least three terrestrial centuries.” The following pages present 14 themed queries covering topics that encompass human experiences, each including ample follow-up questions. (In the section “How Do You Humans Get Along?” readers are asked to consider, “Is there anything you could never ever forgive?”) Bold, poster-style graphics by Studio Patten anchor each theme—questions about language, for example, float around a curling green megaphone. It’s a combination of existential inquiry and striking visuals that seems tailor-made for young minds beginning to grapple with big ideas. Ages 8–up. (May)

Reviewed on 03/07/2025 | Details & Permalink