Inhaltsangabe
Her name is Jazmin, and like the music of her name, her life throbs and swings?a few flat notes to be sure, but also bursting with rich passages that rise and soar. Sitting on her stoop she fills her notebook with laughs, anger, and hope. There?s the risky lure of ?luscious-looking? men and the consequences of free haircuts. This is a fourteen-year-old so-real girl living in Harlem in the 1960?s, ?born with clenched fists? and big dreams, and strengthened by the love of a steadfast sister. Captured within pages of her tough, exuberant life are all the beauty, chaos, confusion, and clarity that accompany the excitement of exploring life?s possibilities?and discovering they are endless.
Die Inhaltsangabe kann sich auf eine andere Ausgabe dieses Titels beziehen.
Über die Autorin bzw. den Autor
Nikki Grimes is the award-winning, New York Times bestselling author of dozens of children’s and young adult books as well as a poet and journalist.
Among the many accolades she has received are the Golden Dolphin Award (2005),the NCTE Award for Excellence in Poetry for Children (2006), the Coretta Scott King Award (2003) for Bronx Masquerade, and the Horace Mann Upstanders Award (2011) for Almost Zero: A Dyamonde Daniel Book. Additionally, her book Barack Obama: Son of Promise, Child of Hope (illustrated by Bryan Collier) was a New York Times bestseller, and she was acknowledged as an NAACP Image Award Finalist in 1993 for her book Malcolm X: a Force for Change. Her books Meet Danitra Brown (illustrated by Floyd Cooper), Jazmin's Notebook, Talkin' About Bessie (illustrated by E.B. Lewis), Dark Sons, The Road to Paris, and Words with Wings were each awarded Coretta Scott King Honors. Visit her online at www.nikkigrimes.com.
Among the many accolades she has received are the Golden Dolphin Award (2005),the NCTE Award for Excellence in Poetry for Children (2006), the Coretta Scott King Award (2003) for Bronx Masquerade, and the Horace Mann Upstanders Award (2011) for Almost Zero: A Dyamonde Daniel Book. Additionally, her book Barack Obama: Son of Promise, Child of Hope (illustrated by Bryan Collier) was a New York Times bestseller, and she was acknowledged as an NAACP Image Award Finalist in 1993 for her book Malcolm X: a Force for Change. Her books Meet Danitra Brown (illustrated by Floyd Cooper), Jazmin's Notebook, Talkin' About Bessie (illustrated by E.B. Lewis), Dark Sons, The Road to Paris, and Words with Wings were each awarded Coretta Scott King Honors. Visit her online at www.nikkigrimes.com.
Auszug. © Genehmigter Nachdruck. Alle Rechte vorbehalten.
copyright ?1998 by Nikki Grimes
published by Dial Books for Young Readers
A Member of Penguin Putnam Inc. - excerpt (pages 14-25) FOR SALE I pass the used-goods store
peek at
the bronzed baby shoes
useless and dusty
in the window.
It?s legal
to sell such things,
I know.
But it feels wrong
to me,
someone selling
someone else?s
memory.
MAY 28 It must drive God crazy to see how much we take for granted. My friend Jabari is a great example. This afternoon his grandmother left Wilson?s Drugstore, grinning, and hurried across the Avenue clutching a large envelope. She stopped in front of The Garden to catch her breath, and waved me over while she rested. ?Looka here,? she said, slipping an 8 x 10 glossy from the envelope. It was a photo from Jabari?s prom.
?That?s my grandbaby!? she said, proud as the First Lady, going on about how clever she knew he was, and how he got his brains from her side of the family, and how she planned on framing his diploma?in silver, no less. Man! You?d think he had graduated from Harvard, instead of being on his way to high school along with the rest of us. Then again he might be the first in his family to make it so far. Whether he is or not, I suppose his grandmother has the right to brag.
I smiled politely and said, yes, Jabari did look mighty handsome in that fine suit. Which is right about when she dug out her wallet and rewarded my good manners by showing me an old photograph of Jabari, scooting, bare-bottomed, across a baby blanket.
"He always was the cutest thing," she cooed.
All I could think was, Poor Jabari! What?s this thing grown-ups have about showing off embarrassing pictures of naked babies? I don?t know. I couldn?t keep from laughing, though. After all, this is the guy I sometimes meet on the basketball court after school, for a game of one-on-one. Now, thanks to seeing that photo, I?ll never be able to look at his sweaty, muscled, six-foot frame quite the same again. And it didn?t help that Jabari showed up while tears of laughter were still streaming down my cheeks.
Can?t much blame him for snatching that wallet right out of his grandma?s hands. I?d have done the same. But, trust me: Jabari ought to be counting his blessings. There are no photos of me as a baby, carefully pasted in a family album. No sweet portrait on a mantel beside a pair of bronzed baby shoes. There are no Kodak memories of my third birthday party, face happily smeared with cake frosting, or strawberry ice cream. There are no wallet-size proofs of my existence at the age of eight. Or nine. Or ten. I wish there were.
Some foster homes are pretty okay, but you can?t have pictures if you barely live with folks long enough to learn their address. They?ve got no reason to take them. Of course, it?s different now that I?m with CeCe. She takes lots of pictures, pictures of me, of me with my friends Destinee and Sophie, pictures of CeCe and me together. In fact, she?s gone a little picture crazy, if you ask me. Still, it?s hard to keep track of a little thing like a photograph when you?re constantly moving. Stuff gets left behind. No one can help that. Not even CeCe.
So I?m not taking any chances. These words, these notes are gonna be my photographs of me. Of who I am, and what I do, and what my life is like. Here. Now.
Someday I?ll look at this photograph of me, and Jabari, and his oh-so-proud grandmother, and I?ll grin. The way I?m grinning now.
MAY 29 I?ve got mixed feelings about UFOs and aliens, but I?ve had a number of close encounters in my life, and I know I?m not the first. There?s this lady I call Sister Church, because I see her on the way from one each Sunday and I?ve noticed the secret sparkle she has in her eye, as if she?s seen or heard something that no one else has. She high-stepped down the Avenue earlier today, uniformed in white to match the other women of New Jerusalem Sanctuary of the Redeemed, over on St. Nicholas. White straw hat, white cotton gloves clutched in her hand, blazing white short-sleeve dress, white bag, and white shoes. You know, those flat, orthopedic-looking numbers. Nurse?s shoes maybe. Either way, they gleamed like snow.
I?m not exactly sure what white has to do with God. I understand the connection with purity, of course. Ivory soap, 99 and 44/100 % pure, etcetera. Fine. I get it. Still, when I look at the world God made, I get the distinct impression that He?s partial to color. Sister Church does look good in white, though. Cool, too, on this warm May day.
Shawna was on the stoop with me when Sister Church danced by, high on the spirit, bubbling over with what CeCe calls ?the zeal of the Lord.?
?Good afternoon,? she greeted, mopping her brow with a lace kerchief. White, of course. ?How y?all young folks doin? today??
?Fine,? I said, answering for both of us. Shawna was too busy snickering to be polite.
?I believe the Good Lord gave me a message for you this mornin?. He spoke to me. Yes, He did. He said, ?I have given angels charge over thee.? ? Her words sent a tingle up my spine, but Shawna just rolled her eyes. ?Lady, you must be hearin? voices again, ?cause ain?t no God tell you nothin?. If there is a God,? she added, rubbing her swollen belly. The small life inside gave her a walloping kick.
Good, I thought. Serves you right. Then I remembered what CeCe says: Be patient with people. We all believe what we know, or what we can, or what we want to.
Believing in close encounters of the spiritual kind comes easily to me, partly because CeCe was born with second sight, and I?ve been hearing about visions and prophetic dreams all my life, and partly because I?ve met and talked to angels on more than one occasion, and found their presence so matter-of-fact that I assumed other people saw them too. I?ve learned not to talk about such things. I don?t enjoy being laughed at.
Still, there?s a lot that happens in this life that people can?t explain. Like why CeCe could be in Jersey, and I could be in Ossining, New York, and every time she gets a stomachache, I do too. Or what happened the time CeCe and I were in that foster home on Long Island and ran away because the woman beat us.
I was three years old then, but I remember how we skipped down the street so no one would notice we were leaving. And how, once we turned the corner, our feet flew. The next thing I knew, we were inside of Mom?s apartment in Manhattan, standing at the window, waving to her as she came home. Shocked to find us there, she raced upstairs, shoved her key in the door, and discovered that it was still locked. From the outside.
The trip itself was part of the mystery. There were no bus rides, no train rides that I remember. There was no passage of time. And once we reached Mom?s place, there was no standing outside the door, struggling for entrance. None of Mom?s neighbors saw us come in. No one gave us a key. And no one has an explanation for these things, except CeCe and me, and ours isn?t one Mom wants to hear.
Let?s just say angels were involved. Did we see them? No. But then, angels aren?t in the habit of showing themselves. Besides, even if we had, even if we could describe them from head to toe, no one was prepared to believe us. Least of all Mom. This kind of stuff gives her the chills, which is sad because the truth is better than any tale we could whip up. In the end she took comfort in dismissing our account, calling it the product of a child?s wild imagination, and deciding, unilaterally of course, that we were not to speak of ?the incident? again.
I?ve kept it stored away in memory, along with all the other unexplained phenomena I?ve felt, or seen, or heard. I?ve got this idea, see, that God is saving...
published by Dial Books for Young Readers
A Member of Penguin Putnam Inc. - excerpt (pages 14-25) FOR SALE I pass the used-goods store
peek at
the bronzed baby shoes
useless and dusty
in the window.
It?s legal
to sell such things,
I know.
But it feels wrong
to me,
someone selling
someone else?s
memory.
MAY 28 It must drive God crazy to see how much we take for granted. My friend Jabari is a great example. This afternoon his grandmother left Wilson?s Drugstore, grinning, and hurried across the Avenue clutching a large envelope. She stopped in front of The Garden to catch her breath, and waved me over while she rested. ?Looka here,? she said, slipping an 8 x 10 glossy from the envelope. It was a photo from Jabari?s prom.
?That?s my grandbaby!? she said, proud as the First Lady, going on about how clever she knew he was, and how he got his brains from her side of the family, and how she planned on framing his diploma?in silver, no less. Man! You?d think he had graduated from Harvard, instead of being on his way to high school along with the rest of us. Then again he might be the first in his family to make it so far. Whether he is or not, I suppose his grandmother has the right to brag.
I smiled politely and said, yes, Jabari did look mighty handsome in that fine suit. Which is right about when she dug out her wallet and rewarded my good manners by showing me an old photograph of Jabari, scooting, bare-bottomed, across a baby blanket.
"He always was the cutest thing," she cooed.
All I could think was, Poor Jabari! What?s this thing grown-ups have about showing off embarrassing pictures of naked babies? I don?t know. I couldn?t keep from laughing, though. After all, this is the guy I sometimes meet on the basketball court after school, for a game of one-on-one. Now, thanks to seeing that photo, I?ll never be able to look at his sweaty, muscled, six-foot frame quite the same again. And it didn?t help that Jabari showed up while tears of laughter were still streaming down my cheeks.
Can?t much blame him for snatching that wallet right out of his grandma?s hands. I?d have done the same. But, trust me: Jabari ought to be counting his blessings. There are no photos of me as a baby, carefully pasted in a family album. No sweet portrait on a mantel beside a pair of bronzed baby shoes. There are no Kodak memories of my third birthday party, face happily smeared with cake frosting, or strawberry ice cream. There are no wallet-size proofs of my existence at the age of eight. Or nine. Or ten. I wish there were.
Some foster homes are pretty okay, but you can?t have pictures if you barely live with folks long enough to learn their address. They?ve got no reason to take them. Of course, it?s different now that I?m with CeCe. She takes lots of pictures, pictures of me, of me with my friends Destinee and Sophie, pictures of CeCe and me together. In fact, she?s gone a little picture crazy, if you ask me. Still, it?s hard to keep track of a little thing like a photograph when you?re constantly moving. Stuff gets left behind. No one can help that. Not even CeCe.
So I?m not taking any chances. These words, these notes are gonna be my photographs of me. Of who I am, and what I do, and what my life is like. Here. Now.
Someday I?ll look at this photograph of me, and Jabari, and his oh-so-proud grandmother, and I?ll grin. The way I?m grinning now.
MAY 29 I?ve got mixed feelings about UFOs and aliens, but I?ve had a number of close encounters in my life, and I know I?m not the first. There?s this lady I call Sister Church, because I see her on the way from one each Sunday and I?ve noticed the secret sparkle she has in her eye, as if she?s seen or heard something that no one else has. She high-stepped down the Avenue earlier today, uniformed in white to match the other women of New Jerusalem Sanctuary of the Redeemed, over on St. Nicholas. White straw hat, white cotton gloves clutched in her hand, blazing white short-sleeve dress, white bag, and white shoes. You know, those flat, orthopedic-looking numbers. Nurse?s shoes maybe. Either way, they gleamed like snow.
I?m not exactly sure what white has to do with God. I understand the connection with purity, of course. Ivory soap, 99 and 44/100 % pure, etcetera. Fine. I get it. Still, when I look at the world God made, I get the distinct impression that He?s partial to color. Sister Church does look good in white, though. Cool, too, on this warm May day.
Shawna was on the stoop with me when Sister Church danced by, high on the spirit, bubbling over with what CeCe calls ?the zeal of the Lord.?
?Good afternoon,? she greeted, mopping her brow with a lace kerchief. White, of course. ?How y?all young folks doin? today??
?Fine,? I said, answering for both of us. Shawna was too busy snickering to be polite.
?I believe the Good Lord gave me a message for you this mornin?. He spoke to me. Yes, He did. He said, ?I have given angels charge over thee.? ? Her words sent a tingle up my spine, but Shawna just rolled her eyes. ?Lady, you must be hearin? voices again, ?cause ain?t no God tell you nothin?. If there is a God,? she added, rubbing her swollen belly. The small life inside gave her a walloping kick.
Good, I thought. Serves you right. Then I remembered what CeCe says: Be patient with people. We all believe what we know, or what we can, or what we want to.
Believing in close encounters of the spiritual kind comes easily to me, partly because CeCe was born with second sight, and I?ve been hearing about visions and prophetic dreams all my life, and partly because I?ve met and talked to angels on more than one occasion, and found their presence so matter-of-fact that I assumed other people saw them too. I?ve learned not to talk about such things. I don?t enjoy being laughed at.
Still, there?s a lot that happens in this life that people can?t explain. Like why CeCe could be in Jersey, and I could be in Ossining, New York, and every time she gets a stomachache, I do too. Or what happened the time CeCe and I were in that foster home on Long Island and ran away because the woman beat us.
I was three years old then, but I remember how we skipped down the street so no one would notice we were leaving. And how, once we turned the corner, our feet flew. The next thing I knew, we were inside of Mom?s apartment in Manhattan, standing at the window, waving to her as she came home. Shocked to find us there, she raced upstairs, shoved her key in the door, and discovered that it was still locked. From the outside.
The trip itself was part of the mystery. There were no bus rides, no train rides that I remember. There was no passage of time. And once we reached Mom?s place, there was no standing outside the door, struggling for entrance. None of Mom?s neighbors saw us come in. No one gave us a key. And no one has an explanation for these things, except CeCe and me, and ours isn?t one Mom wants to hear.
Let?s just say angels were involved. Did we see them? No. But then, angels aren?t in the habit of showing themselves. Besides, even if we had, even if we could describe them from head to toe, no one was prepared to believe us. Least of all Mom. This kind of stuff gives her the chills, which is sad because the truth is better than any tale we could whip up. In the end she took comfort in dismissing our account, calling it the product of a child?s wild imagination, and deciding, unilaterally of course, that we were not to speak of ?the incident? again.
I?ve kept it stored away in memory, along with all the other unexplained phenomena I?ve felt, or seen, or heard. I?ve got this idea, see, that God is saving...
„Über diesen Titel“ kann sich auf eine andere Ausgabe dieses Titels beziehen.
Weitere beliebte Ausgaben desselben Titels
Suchergebnisse für Jazmin's Notebook (Coretta Scott King Author Honor...
Beispielbild für diese ISBN
Jazmin's Notebook (Coretta Scott King Author Honor Books)
Anbieter: Half Price Books Inc., Dallas, TX, USA
Verkäuferbewertung 5 von 5 Sternen
hardcover. Zustand: Very Good. Connecting readers with great books since 1972! Used books may not include companion materials, and may have some shelf wear or limited writing. We ship orders daily and Customer Service is our top priority! Bestandsnummer des Verkäufers S_450518412
Gebraucht kaufen
EUR 4,43
EUR 3,01 Versand
Versand innerhalb von USA
Versand innerhalb von USA
Anzahl: 1 verfügbar
Beispielbild für diese ISBN
Jazmin's Notebook (Coretta Scott King Author Honor Books)
Anbieter: World of Books (was SecondSale), Montgomery, IL, USA
Verkäuferbewertung 5 von 5 Sternen
Zustand: Good. Good condition ex-library book with usual library markings and stickers. Bestandsnummer des Verkäufers 00090052793
Gebraucht kaufen
EUR 7,52
Versand gratis
Versand innerhalb von USA
Versand innerhalb von USA
Anzahl: 1 verfügbar
Beispielbild für diese ISBN
Jazmin's Notebook (Coretta Scott King Author Honor Books)
Anbieter: ThriftBooks-Atlanta, AUSTELL, GA, USA
Verkäuferbewertung 5 von 5 Sternen
Hardcover. Zustand: Very Good. No Jacket. Former library book; May have limited writing in cover pages. Pages are unmarked. ~ ThriftBooks: Read More, Spend Less. Bestandsnummer des Verkäufers G0803722249I4N10
Gebraucht kaufen
EUR 7,98
Versand gratis
Versand innerhalb von USA
Versand innerhalb von USA
Anzahl: 1 verfügbar
Beispielbild für diese ISBN
Jazmin's Notebook (Coretta Scott King Author Honor Books)
Anbieter: ThriftBooks-Dallas, Dallas, TX, USA
Verkäuferbewertung 5 von 5 Sternen
Hardcover. Zustand: As New. No Jacket. Pages are clean and are not marred by notes or folds of any kind. ~ ThriftBooks: Read More, Spend Less. Bestandsnummer des Verkäufers G0803722249I2N00
Gebraucht kaufen
EUR 7,98
Versand gratis
Versand innerhalb von USA
Versand innerhalb von USA
Anzahl: 1 verfügbar
Beispielbild für diese ISBN
Jazmin's Notebook
Verlag:
Penguin Publishing Group, 1998
ISBN 10: 0803722249
ISBN 13: 9780803722248
Gebraucht
Hardcover
Erstausgabe
Anbieter: Better World Books, Mishawaka, IN, USA
Verkäuferbewertung 5 von 5 Sternen
Zustand: Good. 1st. Pages intact with minimal writing/highlighting. The binding may be loose and creased. Dust jackets/supplements are not included. Stock photo provided. Product includes identifying sticker. Better World Books: Buy Books. Do Good. Bestandsnummer des Verkäufers 930926-75
Gebraucht kaufen
EUR 8,12
Versand gratis
Versand innerhalb von USA
Versand innerhalb von USA
Anzahl: 1 verfügbar
Beispielbild für diese ISBN
Jazmin's Notebook
Verlag:
Penguin Publishing Group, 1998
ISBN 10: 0803722249
ISBN 13: 9780803722248
Gebraucht
Hardcover
Erstausgabe
Anbieter: Better World Books, Mishawaka, IN, USA
Verkäuferbewertung 5 von 5 Sternen
Zustand: Good. 1st. Former library copy. Pages intact with minimal writing/highlighting. The binding may be loose and creased. Dust jackets/supplements are not included. Includes library markings. Stock photo provided. Product includes identifying sticker. Better World Books: Buy Books. Do Good. Bestandsnummer des Verkäufers GRP73015217
Gebraucht kaufen
EUR 8,12
Versand gratis
Versand innerhalb von USA
Versand innerhalb von USA
Anzahl: 1 verfügbar
Beispielbild für diese ISBN
Jazmin's Notebook (Coretta Scott King Author Honor Books)
Anbieter: Dailey Ranch Books, Tucson, AZ, USA
Verkäuferbewertung 4 von 5 Sternen
Hardcover. Zustand: Good. USED Good Former Library book Hardcover with dust jacket in Mylar cover. It has normal library markings including card holder/reference sticker and library call number on spine. Some cover scuff/indents on cover, folded or wrinkled pages. Has school and/or library name blacked out with marker or white blackout sticker on white page edges and inside. Bestandsnummer des Verkäufers s22b 5t j
Gebraucht kaufen
EUR 15,45
EUR 10,97 Versand
Versand innerhalb von USA
Versand innerhalb von USA
Anzahl: 1 verfügbar
Beispielbild für diese ISBN
Jazmin's Notebook (Coretta Scott King Author Honor Books)
Anbieter: GoldBooks, Denver, CO, USA
Verkäuferbewertung 5 von 5 Sternen
Hardcover. Zustand: new. New Copy. Customer Service Guaranteed. Bestandsnummer des Verkäufers 40P50_23_0803722249
Neu kaufen
EUR 40,20
EUR 4,74 Versand
Versand innerhalb von USA
Versand innerhalb von USA
Anzahl: 1 verfügbar
Beispielbild für diese ISBN
Jazmin's Notebook (Coretta Scott King Author Honor Books)
Anbieter: SHIMEDIA, Brooklyn, NY, USA
Verkäuferbewertung 5 von 5 Sternen
Zustand: New. Satisfaction Guaranteed or your money back. Bestandsnummer des Verkäufers 0803722249
Beispielbild für diese ISBN
Jazmin's Notebook (Coretta Scott King Author Honor Books)
Anbieter: BennettBooksLtd, Los Angeles, CA, USA
Verkäuferbewertung 5 von 5 Sternen
hardcover. Zustand: New. In shrink wrap. Looks like an interesting title! Bestandsnummer des Verkäufers Q-0803722249
Neu kaufen
EUR 89,88
EUR 6,00 Versand
Versand innerhalb von USA
Versand innerhalb von USA
Anzahl: 1 verfügbar