Flying Lessons & Other Stories
Flying Lessons & Other Stories

List Price:

School Discount

Discount Price:

Discount Price:

Discount Price:

Discount Price:

To purchase this item, you must first login or register for a new account.

Annotation: From basketball dreams and family fiascos to first crushes and new neighborhoods, this anthology, written by award-winning children's authors, celebrates the uniqueness and universality in all of us.
Catalog Number: #153646
Format: Perma-Bound Edition
All Formats: Search
Common Core/STEAM: Common Core Common Core
Publisher: Random House
Copyright Date: 2018
Edition Date: 2018
Pages: xii, 218 pages
Availability: Available
ISBN: Publisher: 1-10-193462-X Perma-Bound: 0-7804-0188-3
ISBN 13: Publisher: 978-1-10-193462-3 Perma-Bound: 978-0-7804-0188-4
Dewey: Fic
LCCN: 2016016160
Dimensions: 20 cm.
Language: English
Horn Book
Edited by Oh, cofounder of We Need Diverse Books, ten stories by (mostly) well-known authors of diverse backgrounds present young protagonists dealing with common themes of growing up--love, family, friendship, dreams, fitting in, etc. Stories by Soman Chainani, Matt de la Peqa, Jacqueline Woodson, Kwame Alexander, Meg Medina, Grace Lin, and Walter Dean Myers are included in the unusually strong collection.
Publishers Weekly
This short story collection, edited and introduced by We Need Diverse Books cofounder Oh, features 10 stories -for all of us- from authors who include Kwame Alexander, Soman Chainani, Meg Medina, and Walter Dean Myers. Each story stands on its own, but the collection as a whole highlights the importance of perspective, perseverance, wonder, courage, and creativity during the middle school years. A thoughtful entry from Matt de la Peña, written in second person, centers on a Mexican-American teenager who does well at school but sees basketball as a -path to those tree-lined lives they always show on TV.- In Grace Lin-s delightful -The Difficult Path,- literacy proves an unexpected ticket to a life with pirates for a Chinese girl eager to escape an arranged marriage. And Jacqueline Woodson-s elegiac -Main Street- focuses on the relationship between an 11-year-old white girl and her -tall and brown and beautiful- best friend in a New Hampshire town where -the leaves were the only color.- Thought provoking and wide-ranging, this first anthology from WNDB should not be missed. Ages 8-12. Agent: Barry Goldblatt, Barry Goldblatt Literary. (Jan.)

School Library Journal Starred Review
Gr 4&11;6&12; This anthology, published in partnership with We Need Diverse Books, presents 10 short stories from a stellar list of authors: Kwame Alexander, Matt de la Pe&1;a, Jacqueline Woodson, Soman Chainani, Grace Lin, Walter Dean Myers, Tim Federle, Meg Medina, Tim Tingle, and Kelly Baptist. De la Pe&1;a's linguistically grooving basketball story will have readers swaying in their seats. Verbal roadblocks are hurled at the protagonist from the street-smart players inside the gym: he's too young, too skinny, too Mexican. His resolve yields multiple life lessons on and off the court. Woodson's haunting "Main Street" follows Celeste, the only girl of color in an all-white New Hampshire town, and her friendship with lifetime resident Treetop. Both are suffering from different losses: Treetop's mother has recently passed away, and Celeste isn't accepted in her new home. Their warm connection soothes their mutual pain and promises to last even after Celeste and her mother decide to return to familiar and welcoming New York. Each tale offers realistic and fully developed characters with whom a wide range of readers will identify. VERDICT Inclusive, authentic, and eminently readable, this collection of short stories is an excellent addition for libraries and classrooms.&12; Diane McCabe, John Muir Elementary, Santa Monica, CA
Starred Review for Kirkus Reviews
Edited by We Need Diverse Books co-founder Oh, a collection of short stories that embraces a wide cultural spectrum of authorship. Readers feel the angst that comes with getting to know the cool new California girl at a Pennsylvania school in Tim Federle’s “Secret Samantha,” narrated by gender-nonconforming Sam. They’ll thrill to Grace Lin’s “The Difficult Path,” the tale of a young Chinese servant girl who is captured by pirates, who save her from an arranged marriage to a horrible young boy from a wealthy family. Kwame Alexander contributes a short story in verse about a young Star Wars geek who is head over heels with the school's prettiest girl. Perhaps most poignantly, there is “Sometimes a Dream Needs a Push,” about a boy whose basketball-star father gives his wheelchair basketball team some crucial pointers, from Walter Dean Myers. These stories and others—from Matt de la Peña, Meg Medina, Kelly J. Baptist, Tim Tingle, Jacqueline Woodson, and Soman Chainani—ably contain universal themes: friendship, sibling rivalry, parental embarrassment, first crushes, and the trials and challenges that school can bring. Thumbnail biographies of the contributors and an introduction to the genesis and work of We Need Diverse Books round out the volume. A natural for middle school classrooms and libraries, this strong collection should find eager readers. (Anthology. 8-12)
Starred Review ALA Booklist
*Starred Review* This collaboration with We Need Diverse Books has no single overarching theme. Instead, its 10 award-winning contributors bring their own diversity to individual, idiosyncratic stories that reflect a variety of themes and subjects. The book is dedicated to the late Walter Dean Myers, who is well represented in the collection with his satisfying story about a physically challenged boy, his father, and wheelchair basketball. Though the stories are roundly excellent thors include Kelly J. Baptist, Grace Lin, Tim Tingle, and Meg Medina few do stand out. Matt de la Peña writes about a young Latino boy for whom basketball is a way out to a better life. Tim Federle tells a lighthearted story about Secret Santas and the gift of friendship. Then there is Jacqueline Woodson's beautiful offering about love, loss, and an interracial friendship; Soman Chainani's irresistible tale about a lonely American boy on vacation with his Auntie Mame of a grandmother; and Kwame Alexander's teasingly imaginative story in verse about a boy who acquires a magic power does he? No matter if he doesn't, for there's plenty of magic in this collection to go around.
Word Count: 39,410
Reading Level: 5.0
Interest Level: 3-6
Accelerated Reader: reading level: 5.0 / points: 6.0 / quiz: 186505 / grade: Middle Grades
Reading Counts!: reading level:5.3 / points:11.0 / quiz:Q70015
Lexile: 800L
Guided Reading Level: Z
Fountas & Pinnell: Z

How to Transform an Everyday, Ordinary Hoop Court into a Place of Higher Learning and You at the Podium

Matt de la Peña



It's finally summer.


Go ahead, take a deep breath. You're free.


All year long your moms has been on you like glue about algebra worksheets and science fair projects and the knee-high stack of books Mrs. Baker assigned for English class. And you did what you had to do. Two As and four Bs.


Truth is, you're actually pretty smart.


School comes easy.


You told Baker in that end-of-the-year five-page paper what was up with Esperanza's dreams and the symbolism of the Mango Street house, and you pulled down a 96 percent--second-highest grade in the class. But even as you typed out that essay, you had an indoor-outdoor in your lap. Between sentences you daydreamed finger rolls over outstretched hands.


See, here's what all the hard-core homework pushers don't get.


For people like you, ball is more than just ball.


It's a way out.


A path to those tree-lined lives they always show on TV.


You've crunched the numbers and read the tea leaves. Fact is, you'll never hit the books as hard as Boy Genius Jeremiah Villa. Sylvia Diaz, either. Even your boy Francisco, from down the hall. There are folks in this world who live to mark up a fat World History textbook with an arsenal of colored highlighters.


You're not one of them.


You spend too much time on back-alley ball-handling drills to compete.


Nah, the game of basketball is your best chance.




The Fate of Your Hoop Development



For the past three years you've spent every free minute balling at an outdoor court down the street from your building. After school. After games. Weekends. You name it.


Most nights you're still out there putting up shots, alone, when the sun falls behind the ocean and the automatic park lights come flickering on, spilling that strange yellow half-light across the cracked concrete.


Ball is like anything else.


Put in enough hours, your game's gonna blast off.


Your jumper's now pure out to twenty-five feet, give or take. You've developed a little floater in the lane that leaves slow-footed big men flailing. But it's your handle that sets you apart. Your quicks. The way you can get into the paint at will and finish with either hand.


This past season you scored more points than any other eighth grader in the county.


You were second in assists.


So what.


It ain't good enough, and you know it.


Not if you want to be even more dominant next year, in high school.


That's why your ears perk up when you overhear a couple newcomers talking about Muni Gym in Balboa Park. When you overhear the dude with love handles sitting on the stairs say to his boy, "It's the best run in the entire city, B. I put that on everything."


"You ranked 'em out?" the other guy asks.


"Nah, I used to ball there all the time before I tweaked my back. If you can hang with them big boys at Muni . . . shoot, you can hang with just about anybody."


Shelf the extra jumpers that night.


Proceed instead to the local library and look up Muni Gym online. Type the address into Google Earth and you'll discover it's right next to the Air and Space Museum your moms took you and your sis to back in the day. And the Air and Space Museum, if your calculations are correct, isn't but five miles from your pop's job at the factory.


Wander into your cramped living room after dinner that night. Work up the guts to describe for your old man the importance of competing against the best. You've outgrown your local run. It's time to put a foot in the deep end. So what if he doesn't even know the rules of the game, if all he does is sit there silently inside the TV, working a toothpick in his teeth.


"So, what do you think, Pop?"


"About what?"


"Would it be cool if I went with you to work every morning? So I could play some ball down there?"


He'll look at you suspiciously, then turn back to his cop show and his toothpick.


You'll take this as a no and assume the fate of the most important summer of your hoop development now rests in the hands of the county bus system.


But you'll be wrong.


A few minutes later he'll mumble, "Better have your skinny butt out by the car by five, I'll tell you that. Or else I'm leaving without you."


He won't even look up when he tells you this.


Doesn't matter.


Your heart will race with excitement.


You'll tear into the room you share with your sis and lay your hoop gear out on the chair by your bed like some kind of giddy schoolgirl--which is pretty much how you'll feel.




There's Only Today



Know that when your alarm starts blaring at four-thirty the next morning, you're going to have no idea where you are or what's happening. It'll still be dark outside. Your sis will be snoring. When reality finally settles in, the lazy part of your brain will try and sweet-talk you back to sleep: Maybe we could, you know, skip the Muni trip today . . . go ball at the park instead. . . . There's always tomorrow.


Reach into your own skull and smack this part of your brain upside the head.


If you let it, this part of your brain will hold you back from every dream you will ever have. Trust me.


Crawl out of bed, reminding yourself that your old man gets up like this every single day for work. Rain or shine. In sickness and in health.


Your uncles, too.


Respect them for this.


Strive to be like them.


During the entire thirty-minute drive south, your old man will say two sentences to you, max. Don't take it personally. Answer his question about the gym location and how you heard about it. Buckle your seat belt when he gives you one of his patented dirty looks. Before you even hit the freeway on-ramp you'll be done talking, but that's okay. Shift your focus to other details of the drive. The radio news show he turns on. The smell of his steaming-hot black coffee. The scattered cars along the dark freeway, and the subtle tick of his turn signal whenever he changes lanes. By the end of summer, these seemingly insignificant details will be ingrained in your brain.


When he parks along the street near his factory, it'll still be a full three hours before Muni Gym opens. "Better have your skinny butt back here by quarter to four," he'll say, snatching his lunch pail out of the backseat. "It's a long walk home, I'll tell you that."


After he disappears around the bend, turn your attention to the ancient Volkswagen Bug. You'll wonder how the heck you're supposed to sleep inside such a tiny car, but after a little trial and error you'll find a way. It will involve folding your six-foot-one frame into a kind of human pretzel. Half of you will be in the backseat, while the other half is curled up into the front passenger seat, your bag strategically lodged into the center console to keep the hand brake from digging into your ribs.


By day three, this next-level yoga position will feel perfectly natural.


But let's get something straight from the jump. This Muni Gym summer isn't going to be some kind of continuous loop of "One Shining Moment." There'll be low points, too. On and off the court. Trust me.


A few weeks in, a meaty-faced cop will knock on the windshield with the butt of his nightstick. He'll look at you through aviator sunglasses, his right hand resting on a holstered handgun.


Try not to panic.


His suspicions will be based on two simple facts:



1.   This is the first time during his rounds he's ever stumbled across a kid sleeping at a ninety-degree angle inside a VW Bug.


2. Your skin is brown.


2a. (His skin will be brown, too--maybe even browner--but don't spend too much time worrying yourself about this. There's a complex psychology behind this phenomenon, one you're not yet ready to wrap your head around.)



At the end of your respectful explanation, the cop will slowly remove his hand from his gun. He'll grab hold of your left elbow instead and steer you toward the front office of the factory. Your pop will be summoned, embarrassingly, over the loudspeaker. Two minutes later he'll emerge from the back looking wildly stressed. This is not because you've done anything wrong. It's because he has his own history with cops. Stuff that happened long before you were born. Stuff nobody ever talks about.


After the cop explains the situation, your pop will put on an uncomfortable smile and vouch for you. He'll say you're a good kid, that you're just down here to play some ball at a gym in Balboa Park. He'll shake hands with the cop enthusiastically, thanking him for his service and apologizing for any trouble you may have caused.


Soon as the cop leaves, though, your pops will transform back into himself. "Don't worry about that power-happy pendejo," he'll say, rubbing your shoulder. "You didn't do nothing wrong."


"I was just sleeping."


"Mexicans are allowed to sleep, too." He'll look you straight in the eyes, nodding. And in this moment, you'll feel closer to your old man than ever before.


Fortunately, that's the only morning you'll be woken up by a nightstick. Every other morning it'll be the alarm on your phone, and you'll be free to climb out of the Bug at your leisure. Stretch your stiff arms and legs. Breathe in the warm Hillcrest air and remove your rock from your bag. It's time to get a move on.


It won't take but three days to know all the shortcuts to Muni.


Dribble through the middle school playground where summer camp kids play double Dutch and hopscotch and dodgeball. Dribble in and out of sleeping cars in the massive San Diego Zoo parking lot. Dribble through crowds of camera-toting tourists shuffling toward the front gates of the zoo. Dribble past the various hot dog stands, the ice cream truck with the two flat tires, the leather-faced man selling raspas who looks like your late abuelito. By the end of the summer these vendors will all recognize you and wave.


It will take a little more than an hour for you to arrive at the large, dilapidated building with two locked green doors. Butterflies will dance inside your chest. That first time and every time following. Even years from now. And that's how it should be.


Because you can sense it . . .


Here is where you will learn the world.




Sentenced to the Bleachers



While you wait for gym manager Jimmy to arrive by bicycle with his massive ring of rattling keys, listen to the grown men around you. To the uninitiated they are uneducated. They're poor. Black. Crass. Shifty. Steely-eyed. A reason to cross the street.


But over the course of the summer you will soak up everything around you. And you will hear the brilliance. The poetry. The philosophy. The verbal dance of on-court banter. They will laugh harder and more often than anyone you've ever known. And you will laugh, too. Especially a few weeks into the summer, when they turn their wrath on you.


They'll begin by calling you Mexico (even though your Spanish is suspect at best). They will ask why you're inside a gym, and not crouched in a field somewhere, picking strawberries. Or kicking around a soccer ball. They will tell you you're too young to ball with them. Too skinny. Too light in the pocket. Too soft.


Come back in three years, they'll say.


Or maybe ten.


You will laugh your way through all of this, sensing that their digs are some warped version of acceptance.


A week in, a guy everyone calls Mr. Unleaded (because he's the night manager of a nearby gas station) will tear into you about your long, skinny, "no-muscle-having" arms, and without blinking you'll fire back a dig about the ghetto Superman tat sketched into his right forearm, and "Why would you knowingly walk into a gym full of Kryptonite?" Everyone loitering outside the gym that morning, waiting for Jimmy, will roar in laughter and stomp their feet and bump fists, and to your surprise it'll be Mr. Unleaded who laughs hardest of all.


But as much as you'll begin to blend in off the court, on the court it will be a completely different story.


That first day you won't get into a single game.


Not one.


You'll follow everyone inside the dark gym, set down your stuff in the bleachers like they do, hit the court with everyone for a handful of warm-up jumpers, but when it comes time to select squads, you'll find yourself on the outside looking in.


When you try to call next, they'll ignore you.


You'll ask the overweight knee-braced dude if you can run with his squad. He's still three games away, but you got all day. He'll nod and say in a deep smoker voice, "You down, young buck. I got you." But an hour later, when his team is finally set to take the court, he'll drop you for a balding big man.


At first this basketball blackballing will tear you up inside. You know you can hang. Your jumper is as pure as anyone's in the gym (except maybe this guy they call Dante, who never misses). Sure, these dudes are bigger and stronger and more aggressive, but at the very least you could be a dependable distributor. You know where to put a lob on the fast break so your big man can mash it down with a guttural growl.


You plead with the guys standing on the sidelines. "You gotta let me play, man. I can ball. I swear." But these outbursts of self-promotion will fall on deaf ears. All you'll do that first day is hoist a few jumpers between games, then retreat back to the bleachers to watch.


The next day it'll be the same thing.


The day after that.


Those first two weeks you'll participate in a grand total of one run--if you can even count the end-of-the-day, three-on-three debacle you spend guarding a homeless man wearing soleless Timberlands.


One afternoon it'll hit you especially hard on the long walk back to the car.


You'll keep quiet on the drive home, then retreat to an overturned bucket in the alley behind your building, where you'll have a serious heart-to-heart with yourself. Sure, it's the best pickup you've ever seen, but they don't even let you play. They're prejudiced against Mexicans. Or soon-to-be ninth graders. Or both. Why wake up before the crack of dawn, sleep folded up in a VW Bug, just to sit in the bleachers all day?

Excerpted from Flying Lessons and Other Stories
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.

Whether it is basketball dreams, family fiascos, first crushes, or new neighborhoods, this bold short story collection—written by some of the best children’s authors including Kwame Alexander, Meg Medina, Jacqueline Woodson, and many more and published in partnership with We Need Diverse Books—celebrates the uniqueness and universality in all of us.
"Will resonate with any kid who's ever felt different—which is to say, every kid." —Time

Great stories take flight in this adventurous middle-grade anthology crafted by ten of the most recognizable and diverse authors writing today. Newbery Medalist Kwame Alexander delivers a story in-verse about a boy who just might have magical powers; National Book Award winner Jacqueline Woodson spins a tale of friendship against all odds; and Meg Medina uses wet paint to color in one girl’s world with a short story that inspired her Newbery award-winner Merci Suárez Changes Gear. Plus, seven more bold voices that bring this collection to new heights with tales that challenge, inspire, and celebrate the unique talents within us all.
AUTHORS INCLUDE: Kwame Alexander, Kelly J. Baptist, Soman Chainani, Matt de la Peña, Tim Federle, Grace Lin, Meg Medina, Walter Dean Myers, Tim Tingle, Jacqueline Woodson
“There’s plenty of magic in this collection to go around.” Booklist, Starred

“A natural for middle school classrooms and libraries.” Kirkus Reviews, Starred

“Inclusive, authentic, and eminently readable.” —School Library Journal, Starred

“Thought provoking and wide-ranging . . . should not be missed.”Publishers Weekly, Starred 

“Read more books by these authors.” The Bulletin, Starred

How to transform an everyday, ordinary hoop court into a place of higher learning and you at the podium / Matt de la Pena
The difficult path / Grace Lin
Sol Painting, Inc. / Meg Medina
Secret Samantha / Tim Federle
The beans and rice chronicles / Kelly J. Baptist
Choctaw Bigfoot, midnight in the mountains / Tim Tingle
Main Street / Jacqueline Woodson
Flying lessons / Soman Chainani
Seventy-six dollars and forty-nine cents / Kwame Alexander
Sometimes a dream needs a push / Walter Dean Myers.

*Prices subject to change without notice and listed in US dollars.
Perma-Bound bindings are unconditionally guaranteed (excludes textbook rebinding).
Paperbacks are not guaranteed.
Please Note: All Digital Material Sales Final.