Jessie Elliot Is A Big Chicken

Jessie Elliot Is A Big Chicken

Juvenile fiction
Do you remember the summer before starting high school with at
least a little recollection of apprehension? If so, you were
definitely not alone. Have you experienced this transition with your
own kids as I have? If one of your kids is headed towards this big
event, I would strongly suggest Elise Gravel's Jessie Elliot Is A
Chicken. It's a wonderful blend of narration and illustration.
Designed to look like it's created on the pages of a composition book,
it's very believable as a fourteen-year-old's journal.
Self-described nerd extraordinaire Jessie Elliot is about to
start her last summer as a child. In the fall she'll be attending
Hochelaga High where the students, "...look like bored wannabees.
They hang around with sultry faces, call each other names, paint their
eyes like raccoons, and smoke cigarettes, imagining I guess that they
look like rockstars. Maybe there's some kind of chemical reaction in
human brains that's triggered when we turn thirteen that makes us
instantly stupid."
Of course this won't happen to Jessie. No one who still has a
My Little Ponies collection, reads too much, and enjoys playing
Scrabble is in danger of being SUPERCOOL. And she'll have best friend
Julie to hang out with. Or will she? Following a misunderstanding at
Julie's cottage, the girls aren't speaking to each other. Worse yet,
Julie is hanging out with Jessie's nemesis, mean girl Isabelle Lemoine.
So what is Jessie to do? Get her nose pierced, start smoking,
and dress sexy or face high school alone?
Shakespeare it's not, but Jessie Elliot Is A Big Chicken is a
great comfort read for kids on the verge of high and even some of us
who made that transition quite awhile ago.
On a personal note, my family moved from the fishing and shoe factory
based coastal city I grew up in a week or so before I started high
school. It was so my sister, who had incurred brain damage as a
result of spinal meningitis, could try another school. So I entered
high school not only not knowing a soul, but feeling guilty for having
mixed emotions, having told about a gazillion times to think about
Harriet's suffering. I remember one moment as clearly as if it were
yesterday. It was a lovely fall evening. Mom, Harriet, and I were
walking to our new apartment. We passed an outdoor party--all boys
and girls about my age. I thought, if we'd stayed in Beverly I'd be
in there, not on the outside. Then I looked at Harriet and felt like
the most evil sister in the history of the universe.
A great big shout out goes out to the young women and men navigating
the transitions to high school and college.
Julia Emily Hathaway



Sent from my iPod