Genius can be an extremely fragile thing. What are you supposed to do to protect its flickering flame when you perceive it in someone else, or even in yourself? There's really no handbook for dealing with the nurturing of a genius mind or ability, since real geniuses are so dynamic in substance that it can be nearly impossible to predict what they're going to do next. Being a genius doesn't automatically make a person equipped to handle the enormity or scope of their own brilliance. When Yolonda, age eleven, and her mother and brother move from the dangerous part of Chicago to a safer neighborhood in suburban Michigan, life as Yolonda knows it is shaken up in a big way. It may have been dangerous where she used to live, her school populated with too many drug pushers and hard kids capable of destruction and violence, but it was the place she saw as home, and she knew the drill back in Chicago. In Grand River, Michigan, the other kids don't understand her, and the gruff, unfriendly way that she has of putting a shield up against people she doesn't know prevents her from making any real friends at her new school. But as Yolonda is trying to adjust to the paradigm of her new life, she begins to see the harmonica (or "mouth harp") playing of her younger brother, Andrew, as more than just a six-year-old playing around with a toy instrument. Andrew has a unique way of capturing with his harmonica the flavor, the sound, the texture, the essential substance of the people and events that unfold around him every day. With a wheezing sigh, he can urge forth plaintive tones of forlornness from the instrument; with a bolder, fuller concentration of breath, he can musically replicate the personal confidence and power of Yolonda herself, tough girl from Chicago that she is, not going to let anybody push around her or her little brother. Andrew's hasn't just been fooling around with the harmonica that their father gave them when he was still around, Yolonda is starting to realize. He has a way with that little mouth harp that goes beyond the ordinary skill of a well-practiced music pupil. As far as Yolonda can see, Andrew is an example of true genius in its nascent state, and if life for her in the new city is going to be so tough, well...why not concentrate her energy on getting Andrew the notice that he deserves? Convincing the world—or even her own mother, for that matter—won't be an easy proposition, though. His entire life, Andrew has taken his time learning to do things that other kids his age already had down cold: walking, reading and writing are just a few of the major areas in which Andrew has lagged behind his peers. He never talks much, either, and has been assigned to work with a speech therapist at his new school as a way to address several of his apparent developmental deficiencies. Yolonda isn't buying that her brother isn't intelligent, though; she's experienced the dancing images that he's capable of conjuring up on a whim with his beloved harmonica, and Yolonda knows that type of ability doesn't just invent itself out of thin air. If other people aren't going to pause their lives for long enough to take note of Andrew's accomplishments, then Yolonda will make sure that they have to pause. Above all else, I give credit to Yolonda for the way that she's willing to step up to the plate for her younger brother because of how much she loves him. Somehow, instinctively, she understands the fragility of an extraordinary ability, probably more because of how deep her understanding of her brother runs than for any special personal insight that she has into the realm of genius. Yolonda sees beyond the natural artist that Andrew can be when he's at his most comfortable and riffing on his mouth harp without a care in the world as to who hears; she sees, just as well, the butterfly with a crushed wing that Andrew is when he's not feeling the music, when external pressures and expectations and demands and bullying cause him to lose hold of the fragile thread of his own natural artistic knowledge, and he suddenly becomes insecure in the art form that he normally has down as easy as breathing. It's when that overthinking pries its way inside and won't get out that the totally natural artist loses his way, because people weren't content to leave well enough alone and let him have his special skill just the way it was. But Yolonda won't give up on her brother. She knows that for a genius like Andrew, losing his way doesn't have to be a forever thing; if he can have known all that good stuff just by his own intuition, then whose to say that he doesn't know the way back to it, apart from anybody's interference? Yolonda still believes that her brother is a genius. She can help him fight his way past all of the negative barriers...can't she? In a book featuring plenty of memorable scenes, the most outstanding have to be those during the Chicago Music Festival. Yolonda's Genius captures the excitement of the gigantic audiences and the mesmerizing rhythm of the blues music perfectly, giving an accurate feel to the reader of what it's like to be up there on the biggest stage in the center of all the celebration. It's a heightened reality, several notches more intense than normal real life, and once you've earned success on the stage it's a narcotic that will keep you coming back for more. The stress may be high and the tension crackling with pure nervous electricity, but it's worth it all for the chance to thrill the crowds and hear them roar back their appreciation. If you're like Andrew, it means something even more. It's the chance to finally prove to the world that you really do have a special talent, and there's no telling how far you can take it if you're given full opportunity. Do I agree with Yolonda's Genius being named a Newbery Honor book for 1996? So far, I'm undecided on that. It was a very strong year for the genre, with eligible titles including Mick Harte Was Here by Barbara Park (without question, my choice as deserving winner of the Newbery Medal that year), The Rifle by Gary Paulsen, The New Nick Kramer or My Life as a Baby-sitter by James Howe, What Jamie Saw by Carolyn Coman and The Midwife's Apprentice by Karen Cushman. I'm not sure if I would have given Yolonda's Genius a Newbery Honor that year or not, but at the very least I can see it as being right in the thick of the race, a book of excellent, solid characters and a story that makes people think about their own preconceptions regarding genius, and how far they would go to help it along if they recognized it in a loved one. Yolonda is a consistent, determined figure, surly at times but still very likable because she really only wants what's rightfully hers, and she's willing to sacrifice so much to allow her brother to become everything that she's sure he can be. Yolonda's Genius is an impressive literary work that I believe accomplishes everything that the author meant for it to accomplish, and will be remembered by readers for a long time after they've finished. I know that I'll never forget it.
Yolanda is a great big girl and strong for her age, bigger and stronger and smarter than anyone else in the fifth grade. She is cool and streetwise, too, and afraid of no one. It's easy for her to watch out for her little, first-grade brother, Andrew. But their mother, a legal professional and a widow, is concerned about crime and drugs in her children's Chicago school. She moves them all to a smaller and, she hopes, smaller town.Yolanda, at first, is scornful of her new town. And Andrew, who never talks much, is having trouble learning to read. What he loves to do is play on the old harmonica given to him as a baby by his father to teethe on and which he's kept blowing ever since. He can imitate any sound he hears, like bacon sizzling, or express any mood he feels, like the freshness of an early morning. Yolanda understands that that's the way he "talks." She is convinced Andrew is a true genius with a great musical gift. But no one else believes it—not her mother, nor Andrew's teachers, not even wonderful Aunt Tiny in Chicago. Yolanda sets out to open up adult eyes, a task whose strategies will call on far more than her physical toughness. Her plans crystallize on a visit back to Chicago to enjoy the great annual blues festival with Aunt Tiny. Carol Fenner, whose previous book Randall's Wall has reached a wide audience throughout the country, has created a daring heroine in Yolanda and a warm portrayal of an African-American family in a story that moves with mounting intensity to a dramatic, believable, and a wholly satisfying conclusion.
What do You think about Yolonda's Genius (1998)?
This book was a delightful find. It was very well written, and-I listened to the audiobook-the reader was fabulous!! I was really pleased with the character development, the authenticism of relationship challenges. First there was the mom who loved her kids but didn't really understand them sometimes. Then there is the coming-of-age challenges of mistreating best friends because we don't know how to respond. Yolanda was a complex but delightful character. I loved most everything about her, and forgave most of her immature mistakes. Her brother was also very complex and worth knowing. Definitely children's fiction, the main characters are children. I loved this book! I'm so glad I found it!
—Susan
Yolonda's mom is concerned with the increasing violence and drugs in their Chicago neighborhood, so she moves her family to the much smaller town of Grand River, Michigan. Yolonda's street smarts don't help her much in Grand River, and she has to learn an entirely new set of strategies for survival - especially when she realizes that her little brother, Andrew, is a musical genius and she can't get anyone else to believe her. This was so well written that I felt like I completely knew and understood these characters, even though their lives are very different from mine. This definitely deserved its Newbery honor!
—Luann
Quick read. I wasn't crazy about this. I didn't find it all that believable. Yolonda is a spunky, determined girl who loves her little brother. That's good. What's not good is her annoying habits of lying and of overeating/eating lots of sweets. It was distracting because the author insisted on mentioning every malted milk ball, every chocolate bar, every food cart item, every extra serving of pancakes that Yolonda would eat. The skinny mother never seems that concerned, and she never seriously addresses Yolonda's poor behaviors (either the lying or the overeating).I did like at the end in the author's note how she shares the scenario that she witnessed which inspired this story. So, maybe it's not that unbelievable after all?
—Kelly-Louise
