Hurricane Child by Kacen Callender

Source of book: Audiobook from the library

 

Throughout my kids’ childhoods, I have tried to find books from diverse authors for us to share together. A benefit of this approach is also finding good books that we might not otherwise have discovered. 

 

Given the current political climate, with book bans targeting schools and libraries on a scale not seen since the Comstock Era, I also figure that the authors targeted by bans and the brave librarians who stand up to the bigots need all the encouragement they can get.

 

There are some fascinating trends in book banning. First, most are targeted at books for children and young adults, rather than regular adult books. Second, books written by people of color, women, and LGBTQ people are far more likely to be targeted. This is important, because it isn’t so much the content that is the reason for the bans, but the perspective. Book banners want to eliminate the stories of people who are not white, cishet, and right wing. 

 

Another interesting fact about bans is that they seem to be most common in certain places. Surprisingly perhaps, it isn’t the most reactionary right wing places that are most likely to attempt bans. Rather, it is places with changing demographics: where the percentage of right-wingers is shrinking. Although the data isn’t broken down along other lines, I suspect that these are also - not coincidentally - areas in which other demographic changes are occurring: more brown-skinned people, younger people, more educated people are coming, and the older, whiter, less educated reactionary faction is feeling displaced. 

Hurricane Child is about as close to the platonic form of the banned book as possible. It is written by Kacen Callender, who is black, Caribbean (US Virgin Islands), queer, and non-binary. And the book is about the usual bogeymen of the right: racism, sexual orientation, and bullying. 

 

Caroline is a 12 year old girl, going through puberty. She also has had her mother abandon the family a year prior, the Catholic school she attends is a hellhole of bullying peers and teachers ranging from clueless to openly hostile, and she is being targeted by a particular mean girl who is richer and lighter skinned. 

 

As the darkest child there, she is a natural target. But also, she is introverted, hurting from her family situation, and the sort of child who can’t simply be passive. (Hey, I really identified with that. At least as a homeschooled kid, I didn’t have the whole bullying thing.) 

 

There is a lot going on for Caroline. She is trying to survive school - and at least for her father’s sake, not get kicked out. But more than anything, she wants to find out why her mother left and has never come back to see her. 

 

And then, a new girl comes to school, Kalinda. Briefly, it appears that Kalinda might also be bullied, until it becomes clear that she has a knack for turning things on their heads, and she suddenly finds herself popular. Kalinda is no mean girl, though, and Caroline senses that, just maybe, they might be friends. 

 

Caroline takes a huge risk and asks Kalinda to sit with her at lunch, and is shocked when Kalinda agrees. From then on, the two become friends…and Caroline realizes she is feeling more than just friendship. 

 

At the same time, the principal tries to help Caroline, and reveals that she was once close friends with Caroline’s mom. In fact, they once dreamed of getting married. The principal has carried a flame for Caroline’s mom ever since. 

 

The rest of the book is fairly exciting. Caroline is outed as a lesbian by the bully, which freaks Kalinda out for a while - particularly since she returns those feelings but, for religious reasons, can’t admit it to herself. 

 

But also, Caroline has to find her mother, and discovers that her father has been lying to her this whole time. Her mother is there on the island. Kalinda and Caroline play hooky and do their best to solve the mystery before Kalinda has to move back to Barbados. 

 

I won’t spoil things more than that, but say that the story, while dramatic, is reasonably plausible and quite exciting. 

 

The writing is also excellent. Calendar captures the tricky and overwrought emotions of middle school, as well as the treacherous and unfair dilemma our bigoted society places queer kids in, where growing into their own identities is considered sinful and evil. (A burden that is never placed on cishet kids.) The bullying is pretty painful - because it is realistic. It is the exact sort of immature yet incredibly hurtful shit that kids of that age do. 

 

The love story is very much age appropriate. In fact, even a kiss remains an unfulfilled desire. It is a really sweet romance, with two kids figuring out who they are and who they love. The author also leaves open the possibilities. Perhaps the girls will be reunited some day. But also, perhaps this will just be a middle school crush that they both remember fondly. What is certain is that the two of them were loving to each other, and the memories will be happy. And that’s as good of a result as any of us hope for from young love. 

 

Another reason this book will be hated by right wingers is that it hits on a theme I have written about recently. There is a lot of talk on the right about “parental rights” - meaning the right of a parent to own and control and even abuse their children and teens. 

 

In this book, most of the central drama - and trauma for Caroline - is caused by terrible behavior by adults. Her mother had her own demons, of course, but her choice to simply disappear from her child’s life is inexcusable, and, while there is a reconciliation in the book, I can’t see that relationship going back to normal. 

 

Caroline’s dad should have told her the truth - a kid of twelve is old enough to understand mental illness and suicide. But more than that, children (and maybe all of us?) will fill in the worst possible reasons when we don’t know the real ones. Of course Caroline assumed that her mother found her unloveable. That’s what children do. Which is why you owe them the truth about a failing marriage, or whatever it is that causes upheaval. Age appropriate doesn’t mean lying or hiding stuff. 

 

Likewise, Caroline’s teacher aids the bullies rather than stopping them. While I don’t think most teachers are like that, there are some who definitely are. There are some adults like that, who get off on bullying children. I wonder if the author had a teacher like that. 

 

I want to comment on a dynamic in this book that parallels real life. Children who bully don’t do so in a vacuum. There are always adults who enable the bullying. 

 

In this book, there are two adult-level factors that enable Anise to hurt Caroline - even to the point of physical violence. First is the culture, which determines who is “out” and who is “in.” Caroline’s immutable features, from her skin color to her sexuality to her abandonment by her mother marks her as fair game for violence. The blame for that falls on all of us. 

 

The second factor is a teacher who not only looks the other way, but actually reinforces the bullying by punishing Caroline for retaliating for harm. I have noticed that this is very common in bullying situations, whether at school, the workplace, or in families like my own. (Birth and extended.) A bully feels free to operate because they know that an authority can be manipulated to join in the punishment. 

 

Often, along with this is another authority figure who chooses to look the other way, or is simply unable to understand what is going on. In this book, the principal fits this role. She tries, but lacks the awareness or the skills to take action against the bully. 

 

The key truth here, though, is that if there is a problem with bullying, the responsibility ultimately doesn’t rest primarily with the child who is bullying others. It rests with the adults. When a child feels they can abuse others with impunity, it is because they know the grownups will shield them from consequences. Anise can hit Caroline with rocks because the teacher will punish Caroline for throwing the rock back. 

 

This is very much applicable to the dynamics of my birth family, and a significant reason my parents and I are estranged. 

 

The principal is really the only adult who is trying, even if she is too removed from the situation to really understand the dynamics of the bullying. Of all the adults in the book, I suspect she may be the only one that Caroline will have good feelings about as an adult, and that is a shame. 

 

The lesson here is that children are humans too, not little clones, not sub-human creatures, and certainly not objects to be owned and jacked around at will. Children deserve respect and empathy and truth. 

 

I want to mention in closing the most powerful line in the book. Kalinda is still freaking out about Caroline’s attraction to her, and starts talking about religion and the Bible. Any of us who survived authoritarian fundamentalism, even if we were cishet, know that feeling. Caroline, who has spent a lot of time thinking about this, responds:

 

“White people once used the Bible to say that we should be slaves.” 

“What does that have anything to do with this?” 

“Everything,” I tell her. “It means we should think for ourselves. Decide if something is wrong just because someone says it’s so, or decide it’s right because that’s how we feel.” 

 

That’s the crux of it. Do we take responsibility for our own beliefs? Or do we go along with “someone told me this is what God says.” Because that is what it is. Period. An interpretation of what people from thousands of years ago thought. The opinions of other humans. 

 

Using your own experience is no more “subjective” than outsourcing your morality to what other people said and are saying. All you are doing by pretending to be objective when you say “the Bible says” is pushing the responsibility for your own beliefs off on to dead people - or the living people who told you what the Bible means. 

 

As Huck Finn once decided, if religion is about being cruel to others, then the only moral choice is to go to hell. 

 

This book is really excellent all around, with enough conflict, drama, love, excitement, mystery, and pacing to be a page turner. It makes its points, not with preachiness, but with nuanced portrayal of human emotion and experience. I would recommend it both for children of that age, and adults. 

 

The audiobook is read by Haitian actress Krystel Roche, who is fluent in multiple languages, and is renowned for her ability to utilize multiple accents. In this book, there is definitely a difference between the St. Thomas accent, and the Barbados accent. It took a bit of adjustment to get used to some of the pronunciations, but it was worth a little effort to get the feel of the rhythm. As a story about Caribbean people, the accent was part of the flavor.