Raquel Jaramillo

I started to love this book at the end of the first chapter when Auggie says, "I won't describe what I look like. Whatever you're thinking, it's probably worse."

And then I got to the first POV change, where we start to see things from Auggie's sister Via's perspective. Wow! I didn't see another narrator coming and it kind of blew me away that this book wasn't going to be just Auggie's story.

Though our hero is in a very dramatic situation, nothing felt overblown or exaggerated. In fact, the show more quietness, the everday-ness of the story is really what makes it stand out. I was, at some middle point in the book, describing it to the people as "The Elephant Man for kids" but it's really more of an everyday life story about a community that is given the opportunity to grow. show less

Amazing book, told from various perspectives, which reminded me that we never know the whole story. I am about as sarcastic and cynical as they come, but this book made me want to be a little softer toward people. Several close calls on crying as I read, but gave up the fight on page 204: "the universe takes care of all its birds." So glad I fell victim to the Twitter-English-Teacher-peer-pressure and read this book before school started. Going to copy several of them and read this aloud to show more my juniors this year. show less

Actually 4.25 stars.
*Wonder* by R.J. Palacio is one of those rare books that fundamentally changes how you see the world and the people around you. It's a story that made me feel everything—joy, anger, sadness, hope—and left me with a deeper understanding of what it means to be kind and human.

The book follows Auggie Pullman, a boy with severe facial differences, as he navigates fifth grade in a mainstream school for the first time. What makes this story so powerful is that it's not just show more Auggie's perspective—we also hear from his sister, his friends, and even kids who aren't always kind to him. This multi-perspective approach is brilliant because it shows how one person's presence can ripple through an entire community in ways both beautiful and complicated.

What struck me most was how the book made me simultaneously love and hate people. I loved the characters who showed courage and compassion—like Summer, who sits with Auggie at lunch simply because she wants to, or Jack Will, who learns what true friendship means. But I also felt genuine anger toward the kids who were cruel, the parents who whispered, and anyone who judged Auggie based solely on his appearance. The book doesn't shy away from showing that meanness exists, and that it hurts.

But here's what makes *Wonder* truly special: it also shows that people can change. Not everyone who starts out mean stays that way. Some characters who initially avoid or mock Auggie eventually come around when they're given the chance to see beyond his face and recognize his humanity. The book suggests that if we respond to unkindness with patience and grace—not because it's easy, but because it's right—we might give others the opportunity to become better versions of themselves.

Palacio's writing is accessible and honest, making this a book that works for both kids and adults. She doesn't sugarcoat the pain of being different or the cruelty that can come from fear and ignorance. But she also doesn't make the story hopeless. Instead, she shows that small acts of kindness—choosing to sit with someone, standing up when it matters, looking beyond the surface—can create profound change.

The book's central message, "Choose kind," sounds simple, but it's actually quite radical. It asks us to actively decide, in every interaction, to lead with compassion. It challenges us to see the person behind the face, the story behind the appearance, the full humanity in everyone we meet.

*Wonder* made me cry, made me think, and made me want to be a better person. It's a book that should be required reading because it teaches empathy in a way that feels real and earned, not preachy. If you haven't read it yet, please do. It's a reminder that we all have the power to make someone's world a little kinder, one choice at a time. show less

***NO SPOILERS***

White Bird is proof that a story about suffering is not only not held back by the graphic-novel format but could actually be at its best, most powerful told this way. Author R.J. Palacio used the format’s magic pairing of text and illustration to tell the story of Sara and how the Holocaust triggered her personal transformation when it upended her carefree life. Palacio put her exhaustive research to phenomenal use here, as Sara’s account could easily pass for a show more nonfictional survivor account. White Bird is actually a spin-off character story from Palacio’s acclaimed [b:Wonder|11387515|Wonder (Wonder, #1)|R.J. Palacio|https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1545695751l/11387515._SY75_.jpg|16319487], in which Sara is the grandmother of Julian, one of that book’s main characters. However, the happenings in White Bird don’t reference the happenings in Wonder, so fortunately readers can understand and enjoy this on its own.

Sara’s story is an absorbing, intensely emotional journey with many moments of tension as one surprise after another pops up. As is to be expected for anything Holocaust-themed, it’s also unbearably sad. It opens with her as a teenager, recounting details of her comfortable life pre-Holocaust. Her biggest concerns are those typical of a child her age—friends, school, and material possessions. By her own admission, she’s a little spoiled and, in her immaturity, sometimes uncharitable. Her life takes a sharp downturn when the Nazis occupy the Free Zone in France, where she lives. In an inventive touch, Palacio had Sara’s vanity work in her favor when her desire to keep her favorite red shoes pristine saves her life. Later, a life-changing, unexpected friendship matures her and teaches her the importance of charity.

In these pages humans are shown at their worst but also at their best and White Bird is a tear-jerker as much for its moments of sorrow as for its moments of loving kindness. Emphasis is on really showing the importance of never hesitating to speak up against injustice and helping others in need. That may sound maudlin, but White Bird balances the sweetness with enough grit to keep scenes from feeling emotionally manipulative. Nevertheless, for accounts about cruelties that humans inflict on other humans, capturing the emotion is paramount, and Palacio did that.

In an engaging note at the end, Palacio explained that this graphic novel resulted from her fascination with the Holocaust, starting just after learning about it as a young girl. Informed by her research, White Bird reads like a synthesis of some of the best parts of the most dramatic Holocaust accounts, strung together with an ample dash of her own imagination and expressive illustrations. The influence of Anne Frank’s diary is easy to see. Sara is a blend of three different women, and Palacio based some characters on specific people, whose photos she included at the end.

As time passes, and especially as the last of the Holocaust’s eye-witnesses die, the likelihood increases that this horrific event could be forgotten—or more easily denied—and subsequently repeated. In its accessible format, White Bird educates and brings this event to life for young readers especially, an essential first step in keeping the memory alive. But it also transcends the limits of its genre, and even topic, to appeal to readers of all ages who simply want stories that are well-told and pack a gut-punch. It’s impossible not to be touched by it. show less