January & February 2018 Latinx Book Deals


Compiled by Cecilia Cackley

This is a monthly series keeping track of the book deals announced by Latinx writers and illustrators. The purpose of this series is to celebrate book deals by authors and illustrators in our community and to advocate for more of them. If you are an agent and you have a Latinx client who just announced a deal, you can let me know on Twitter, @citymousedc. If you are a Latinx author or illustrator writing for children or young adults, and you just got a book deal, send me a message and we will celebrate with you! Here’s to many more wonderful books in the years to come.

February 27

Joanna Cárdenas at Penguin’s new Kokila imprint has acquired world rights to Doodles from the Boogie Down, a middle grade graphic novel by debut author-illustrator Stephanie Rodriguez. The book, which is autobiographically inspired, follows a young Latina in the Bronx, who navigates friendships and a strict mother as she carves out a place for herself in the world as a budding artist. Publication is slated for spring 2020. Author agent: Linda Camacho at Gallt & Zacker Literary Agency.

February 22


February 15

Jordan Nielsen and Craig Cohen at Pow! Kids Books have bought world English rights to Cynthia Leonor Garza‘s (l.) Lucía the Luchadora and the Million Masks, the story of Lucía’s little sister Gemma, who wants to be a luchadora like her big sister, but seems to find trouble wherever she goes. Alyssa Bermudez will illustrate; publication is scheduled for fall 2018. Author agent: Marietta B. Zacker at Gallt and Zacker Literary Agency.

February 13


February 6


February 1

Mary Lee Donovan at Candlewick Press has bought world rights to Hayley Barrett‘s (l.) picture book Babymoon, illustrated by Juana Martinez-Neal. The book is a celebration of the special bonding time when a newborn first comes home. Publication is set for spring 2019. Illustrator agent: Stefanie Von Borstel of Full Circle Literary.

January 30


January 25


January 18

Ruta Rimas at S&S/McElderry has acquired world rights to Kristen Fulton‘s picture book, When Sparks Fly, an illustrated biography of rocket scientist Robert Goddard. Diego Funck will illustrate; publication is slated for spring 2018. Illustrator agent: Anne Moore Armstrong of Bright Agency.


Marisa Polansky at Scholastic has bought world rights to a chapter book series co-written by Monica Brown (l.) and Sarai Gonzalez, the 12-year-old star of the viral music video “Soy Yo,” who became the face behind the #SoyYo movement celebrating independent girls around the world. The first book in the fictional series based on the star’s life, Sarai and the Meaning of Awesome, features Sarai using her creativity and entrepreneurial skills to help her community and family. The first two books in the series are due in fall 2018. Author Agents: Stefanie Von Borstel of Full Circle Literary and Monica Villarreal and Rick Dorfman of Authentic Management.

January 11

Phoebe Yeh at Crown and Nicole de las Heras at Penguin Random House have acquired Jan Carr‘s (l.) Star of the Party, illustrated by Pura Belpré Award-winner Juana Medina. The picture book celebrates the Sun’s 4.6 billionth birthday with planetary quirks and nonfiction content. Publication is slated for fall 2019. Illustrator agent:  Gillian MacKenzie of the Gillian MacKenzie Agency.

January 9


January 4

Hannah Allaman at Disney has bought Nina Moreno‘s debut YA contemporary novel, Saint Rosa of the Sea, pitched as Gilmore Girls meets Practical Magic, in a preempt. The women in Rosa’s family are cursed: her abuela is exiled from Cuba, her mother is reckless, and Rosa is forbidden to go to the sea. Rosa dreams of finally seeing their island, but her study abroad plans crumble amid political changes just as she crashes into a quiet boy from the docks. Publication is planned for summer 2019. Author Agent: Laura Crockett at Triada US Literary Agency.


Guest Post by Author NoNieqa Ramos: I Don’t Eat Mangoes or Oye Mi Canto!–Gloria Estefan


By NoNieqa Ramos

“What are you?” I can’t express how many times I’ve been asked this exact question by white girls. No joke. What preempted this comment, you ask? Perhaps I was wearing some sort of costume? Perhaps it was dark? Try again. It was because I was speaking in grammatically correct sentences and making allusions to books. Me. The same person who wore baggy pants, hoodies, bright red lipstick, had giant Dep-gelled hair, and dropped the F bomb.

I mean “word to your moms, I came to drop bombs. I got more lyrics than the bible got psalms.”- House of Pain

Just sayin. But really who was I? Who am I as a person of color?

To Puerto Ricans on the island, I’m gringa city. And they are right. How can I understand what it is like for the President of the United States to throw me paper-freakin-towels when I’m dealing with the spill of a hurricane?

That being said, my great-grandmother came from the mountains of Puerto Rico and brought my great-aunts to the Bronx. To every POC I ever knew, I was 100 percent Boricua from my knock-off Timberlands to my hoopie earrings. To the principal at my high school who called me Ms. Ramirez, and responded to my correction with “same thing,” I was everyone and nobody.  To the white girls at my high school, I was definitely not a virgin. For every book that I read as a kid, I didn’t exist.

Image result for like water for chocolate bookEven with the books I finally did find in GRAD SCHOOL, like “Like Water for Chocolate” or ANYTHING by Gabriel Garcia Marquez, I still didn’t see myself. I grew up on rice and Goya oh Boya!–beans from a can–seasoned with jarred Sofrito, Recaito, sprinkled with Sazon.

My single-dad didn’t have time to do all these romantic things to food that books like Isabel Allende described– like soaking the beans overnight–not getting them from a can–slicing up fresh avocado–in my childhood only white people getting their buzz on with Margaritas ate guacamole. You know how expensive avocadoes are?

Yet, there was never a time when the radio wasn’t blaring with meringue, salsa, free-style music by TKA (Maria! The most beautiful sound I ever heard…), Jodeci, Gloria Estefan and the like. There was never a time when my dad wasn’t telling me if I didn’t get 99s, I was gonna end up cleaning floors for a living–like every brown person represented in all of the movies I had ever seen.

When I looked in the mirror, everybody else’s image of what a Puerto Rican is supposed to be crowded in with my image of self. When I was sixteen, we moved out of the Bronx and into a white suburb of NJ. One day our white neighbors called my stepmother Rosie in alarm. She should call the police. “A black man” was on our property.

My stepmother had white skin and blonde hair, but she spent half her life in PR. In fact, she was the reason I grew up hearing Spanish. She was 100 percent Puerto Rican and 100 percent sure the “black man” on our lawn was my dad trimming the hedges. My dad.

100 percent used to this type of shit. 100 percent used to being called gringo by other Puerto Ricans for not speaking the Spanish he was forced to unlearn as a child. 100 percent representing the black and brown in our gene pool with his gorgeous face and fabulous mustache.

Who am I as a POC? On those surveys, I answer, race human. Ethnicity, Taino. Yes, Taino. Not white. I don’t identify with the oppressors who slaughtered my people. I’m not the image that people want to project into my mirror, but that person in the mirror combing her bushy hair, dancing to old-school Eddie Palmieri. Getting ready to sit myself and my daughter down to learn Spanish from our tutors who come every Sunday to help us reclaim the language that should have been our own in the first damn place. So, quien soy yo?

Soy un maestra. Soy un autor. Soy un madre y un esposo. So un activista. Soy una Boricua. Lo entiendes, holmes?

The Disturbed Girl's Dictionary Cover

CLICK HERE  for our review of The Disturbed Girl’s Dictionary.

CLICK HERE  for another guest post from NoNieqa.



NoNieqa Ramos spent her childhood in the Bronx, where she started her own publishing company and sold books for twenty-five cents until the nuns shut her down. With the support of her single father and her tias, she earned dual master’s degrees in creative writing and education at the University of Notre Dame. As a teacher, she has dedicated herself to bringing gifted-and-talented education to minority students and expanding access to literature, music, and theater for all children. A frequent foster parent, NoNieqa lives in Ashburn, Virginia, with her family. She can be found on Twitter at @NoNiLRamos.



Book Review: The Closest I’ve Come by Fred Aceves


Reviewed by Cris Rhodes

DESCRIPTION OF THE BOOK: Marcos Rivas yearns for love, a working cell phone, and maybe a pair of sneakers that aren’t falling apart. But more than anything, Marcos wants to get out of Maesta, his hood, away from his indifferent mom and her abusive boyfriend—which seems impossible.

When Marcos is placed in a new after-school program, he meets Zach and Amy, whose friendship inspires Marcos to open up to his Maesta crew, too, and to think more about his future and what he has to fight for. Marcos ultimately learns that bravery isn’t about acting tough and being macho; it’s about being true to yourself. The Closest I’ve Come is a story about traversing real and imagined boundaries, about discovering new things in the world, and about discovering yourself, too.

MY TWO CENTS: As a seasoned reader of Latinx young adult literature, I expect books that centralize male protagonists to fit within a particular, if unfortunate, macho framework; but I hoped that The Closest I’ve Come would buck tradition. While some parts of the book surprised me (like protagonist Marcos Rivas and his pals having a heart-to-heart at the end of the book), others conformed to the stereotypes I’ve grown used to—absent or abusive fathers, drug trafficking, and gratuitous violence.

Based on the book’s description, I anticipated The Closest I’ve Come would deliver a stereotype-busting journey of self-acceptance; but it’s not until the final fifty pages or so of this book that I was able to see this narrative coalesce. In the condensed space of this young adult novel, Aceves juggles quite a bit, sometimes to the detriment of his overarching goal of revealing how Marcos overcomes his circumstances and comes to accept himself. The plot is sprawling. It follows Marcos as he navigates the complex racial hierarchies of his poor, urban neighborhood, Maesta; through the hallways of his high school; into Future Success, the special program he finds himself enrolled in; and inside the four walls of his home, where he battles a tense relationship with his mother and abuse at the hands of her racist boyfriend. Though I had some difficulty keeping track of the plot, as well as the multiple characters corresponding to each subplot, each reveals a new facet of Marcos’s identity—his tenderness, his concern, and his desire to please.

Yet, whereas Marcos—via Aceves’s first-person narration—is fairly open about his feelings of inadequacy and his hopes for the future, he only shares these thoughts with the reader. Marcos longs for the love of his distant mother. He also vies for the attention of his non-traditional crush– Amy, a punk white girl. But he cannot share his feelings with either of the women in his life, nor can he truly connect with his other friends. It is clear from Aceves’s honest and lyrical prose that Marcos is bright and caring, but he is stunted by the cultural milieu of Maesta.

Though I found the book engaging and Marcos to be a sympathetic narrator, I was a little disappointed that The Closest I’ve Come proliferates the narrative that Latinxs (and other minoritized peoples, as the other residents of Maesta are African-American) are poor, destitute, and violence-prone. Eventually, Aceves undercuts this dominant paradigm by having Marcos reveal his true feelings to his mother, Amy, and his friends, but I worry that it comes too late to dispel the single story of tragedy that the rest of the book is situated within.

Nevertheless, in the end, Marcos realizes that to be truly happy, he must be honest, not just with himself, but with his friends and relatives. This message is so important, particularly within the scope of the emotion-suppressing machismo that pervades representations of Latinos in media and culture. The closeness Marcos and his friends share when they reveal their secrets to each other fosters a sense of community and family that had been missing from Marcos’s life. Aceves succinctly explains, “How lucky that I been tight with these guys all my life. With friends like these, who needs family?” (304). In emphasizing the family that Marcos chooses, rather than the terrible one he is born into, Aceves finally delivers on promise implied in the book’s description: to reveal how Marcos remakes himself.

While I am still unsure if this ending sufficiently subverts the other, more stereotypical traits of The Closest I’ve Come, I do think this book could serve as an important mirror for readers whose circumstances are similar to Marcos’s. In other words, though this book does perpetuate some stereotypes and questionable tropes relating to Latinxs, it may reach readers who, like Marcos and his time with Future Success, simply need the right experiences to turn their lives around.

TEACHING TIPS: Because of my reservations about the book, I might be hesitant to teach it as the central focus of a literature class, but for a language arts unit focused on linguistics, The Closest I’ve Come offers several possibilities. It could provide some examples of vernacular English, as Marcos often drops auxiliary verbs or uses double negatives. Students might also discuss Marcos’s disuse of Spanish (he barely speaks it at home and has trouble understanding it when it is spoken to him), which is particularly important within the context of official language debates.


ABOUT THE AUTHOR: Fred Aceves was born in New York but spent most of his youth in Southern California and Tampa, Florida, where he lived in a poor, working class neighborhood like the one described in The Closest I’ve Come. At the age of 21, he started traveling around the world, living in Chicago, New York, the Czech Republic, France, Argentina, Bolivia, and Mexico, his father’s native land. Among other jobs, he has worked as a delivery driver, server, cook, car salesman, freelance editor, and teacher of English as a second language. The Closest I’ve Come is his first novel.


ABOUT THE REVIEWER: Cris Rhodes is a doctoral student at Texas A&M University – Commerce. She received a M.A. in English with an emphasis in borderlands literature and culture from Texas A&M – Corpus Christi, and a B.A. in English with a minor in children’s literature from Longwood University in her home state of Virginia. Cris recently completed a Master’s thesis project on the construction of identity in Chicana young adult literature.

Q&A With Illustrator Jacqueline Alcántara about her debut picture book, The Field


By Cecilia Cackley

Jacqueline Alcántara was featured in a previous round-up of Latina illustrators here on Latinxs in Kid Lit, and we got more information about her when we found out she was also the inaugural recipient of a mentorship from the We Need Diverse Books organization. Now, we’re catching up wit Alcántara since her first picture book, The Field, written by Baptiste Paul, was released last week by NorthSouth Books. Here is the official description of the book, which received a starred review from Kirkus, and the cover:

A soccer story–for boy and girls alike–just in time for the World Cup.

Vini Come The field calls, ” cries a girl as she and her younger brother rouse their community–family, friends, and the local fruit vendor–for a pickup soccer (fútbol) game. Boys and girls, young and old, players and spectators come running–bearing balls, shoes, goals, and a love of the sport.

“Friends versus friends” teams are formed, the field is cleared of cows, and the game begins. But will a tropical rainstorm threaten their plans?

The world’s most popular and inclusive sport has found its spirited, poetic, and authentic voice in Baptiste Paul’s debut picture book–highlighting the joys of the game along with its universal themes: teamwork, leadership, diversity, and acceptance. Creole words (as spoken in St. Lucia, the author’s birthplace island in the Caribbean) add to the story and are a strong reminder of the sport’s world fame. Bright and brilliant illustrations by debut children’s book illustrator Jacqueline Alcántara –winner of the We Need Diverse Books Illustration Mentorship Award–capture the grit and glory of the game and the beauty of the island setting where this particular field was inspired.

Soccer fan or not, the call of The Field is irresistible.


Congratulations on your first picture book! Can you tell us a little bit about the media you used to create the illustrations? Is it one technique or were you mixing several different ones? 

Thank you so much! It’s quite exciting to finally be able to celebrate this book and years of hard work! And thank you very much for supporting me and The Field!

These illustrations are a combination of pencil, marker, gouache and Photoshop. Every day ,I understand more and more what it is I love about each medium – so instead of trying to make one “say it all,” I work mixed-media so I get the beautiful line-work of pencil, the speed and consistency of markers, the flat opaque color and beautiful texture of gouache, and the limitless possibilities of working in Photoshop! I also scan my work at multiple points along the way which allows me to push the illustration without fear of taking it too far into ruin.

There is so much amazing movement in this book. How did you decide when to use panels and when to use full page spreads? What was your research process like for the figures and movements of the players? 

I really love illustrating people and movement. I think that was a big reason I was so attracted to the project in the first place! To begin, I watched movies, fútbol games, documentaries, looked through photographs etc – and drew hundreds of figure sketches of kids and adults playing soccer, really trying to find the most dynamic and natural poses. It was so interesting to see how people’s styles, circumstances, settings, and techniques all changed country to country. The thing that didn’t change, was the look on people’s faces after the game – the looks of joy, friendship, exhaustion.

After I created my cast of characters, I went back through all my figure sketching and decided which movements or styles of kicking, running, and playing felt right for each character. Who was the confident player? Who was the more shy and awkward player, etc?

I felt the beginning of the book was a series of static moments. Connected, but individual moments that focused on the players. I felt this would be best portrayed in panels so we could focus on each moment. As the story progresses, we see ‘The Field’ itself becoming the main character. The Field unites the players, creates friendships, teaches lessons, makes memories! So it felt right to fall back and show the field in its entirety – making the place, the people, and the action more united.

The men’s World Cup is coming up soon. Are you a fútbol fan? If you are, which team will you be cheering for? 

I am! While I don’t love watching sports on TV, I LOVE  watching world events like the Olympics and the World Cup. My favorite team is Barça, so for the World Cup I’ll be rooting for Spain!


photo credit @eyeshotchaABOUT THE ILLUSTRATOR (from her website): Jacqueline Alcántara is a freelance illustrator and spends her days drawing, painting, writing and walking her dog. She is fueled by electronic and jazz music, carbs and coffee. Jacqueline studied Art Education and taught high school art and photography before transitioning to illustration.

In combination with freelance illustration, Jacqueline has a wide range of work experience in other art and design related positions. She managed an art gallery and framing studio in Chicago, worked in the set decoration department on NBC’s “Chicago Fire”, and was the Member Relations Manager at Soho House Chicago where she cultivated a community of Chicago creatives in fashion, advertising, fine art and more. She has a never ending interest in learning new skills and taking on new challenges.

Her experience working with children has led her to focusing on children’s literature and specifically in pursuit of projects featuring a diverse main character. She won the 2016 “We Need Diverse Books Campaign” Mentorship Award and is excited to be working to promote inclusiveness and diversity in children’s literature and the illustration field.

Book Review: The Poet X by Elizabeth Acevedo


Review by Mark Oshiro

DESCRIPTION OF THE BOOK: Xiomara Batista feels unheard and unable to hide in her Harlem neighborhood. Ever since her body grew into curves, she has learned to let her fists and her fierceness do the talking.

But Xiomara has plenty she wants to say, and she pours all her frustration and passion onto the pages of a leather notebook, reciting the words to herself like prayers—especially after she catches feelings for a boy in her bio class named Aman, who her family can never know about.

With Mami’s determination to force her daughter to obey the laws of the church, Xiomara understands that her thoughts are best kept to herself. So when she is invited to join her school’s slam poetry club, she doesn’t know how she could ever attend without her mami finding out. But she still can’t stop thinking about performing her poems.

Because in the face of a world that may not want to hear her, Xiomara refuses to be silent.

MY TWO CENTS: I had a difficult childhood. I was queer and Latinx and stuck in a home with parents who did not understand either identity and certainly not the intersection of them. (I was adopted.) It meant that I felt that I existed in constant friction with them. That friction manifested in a deep, existential desire in me: I wanted acceptance. I wanted to live.

I found that same desire within the pages of The Poet X, Elizabeth Acevedo’s masterful and gut-wrenching debut. Told in verse, I devoured this book in one sitting, only taking a break to wipe at the tears that welled in my eyes. Acevedo has crafted a living, breathing world in Xiomara, and you can tell that from the very first page. Her unique voice, coupled with an engaging story about acceptance, rebellion, and identity in this Dominican-American teen, makes The Poet X a powerful read.

There’s nothing here I could nitpick, even if I tried. The pacing is brilliant, and my heart was racing as I approached the climax. Acevedo’s prose, which is informed by her years of work in slam poetry, is vivid, lyrical, captivating. There were countless sentences or lines that knocked me flat on my ass, and you’re certain to find one of your own. But it’s the characterization that gripped me the most. I related so intensely to Xiomara’s desire to live beyond the prescriptions of her mother’s religion that at times, I felt that Acevedo had reached deep down into a well within me, extracting the pain, terror, and—ultimately—vindication I experienced when I clashed with my own parents about my sexuality, my body, and my need to be my own person. The supporting cast is well-rounded and memorable (particularly Xiomara’s twin brother, Xavier, since I am also a twin), and they each affect the story in meaningful ways.

This is an astounding accomplishment, and I’m so thrilled that Dominican-Americans (and those who identify as Afro-Latinx) have a book that so brilliantly represents them. For fans of Jason Reynolds, Sandra Cisneros (particularly The House on Mango Street), and Liara Tamani’s Calling My Name.

TEACHING TIPS: Another reason I admired The Poet X is because Acevedo so seamlessly addresses weighty topics with ease and care, and the book never feels like it’s teaching you a lesson. The novel addresses issues such as sizeism, street harassment, homophobia, misogyny, sexual shame, and abuse, particularly when that abuse is paired with religion. Because the book is composed in verse that work like vignettes, it will be easy to assign essays or discussions based on specific poems. Acevedo’s language is modern and youthful, so I expect teens will connect with it quicker than most other works.

WHERE TO GET IT: The Poet X released on Tuesday. To find it, check your local public library, your local bookstore, or IndieBound. Also, check out GoodreadsAmazon, and Barnes & Noble.

                        Photo: Bethany Thomas

Photo: Bethany Thomas

ABOUT THE AUTHOR (from her website): Elizabeth Acevedo was born and raised in New York City and her poetry is infused with Dominican bolero and her beloved city’s tough grit.

She holds a BA in Performing Arts from The George Washington University and an MFA in Creative Writing from the University of Maryland. With over twelve years of performance experience, Acevedo has been a featured performer on BET and Mun2, as well as delivered several TED Talks. She has graced stages nationally and internationally including renowned venues such as The Lincoln Center, Madison Square Garden, the Kennedy Center of the Performing Arts, and South Africa’s State Theatre, The Bozar in Brussels, and the National Library of Kosovo; she is also well known for  poetry videos, which have gone viral and been picked up by PBS, Latina Magazine, Cosmopolitan, and Upworthy.

Acevedo is a National Slam Champion, Beltway Grand Slam Champion, and the 2016 Women of the World Poetry Slam representative for Washington, D.C, where she lives and works.

Her poems have been published or are forthcoming in Puerto Del Sol, Callaloo, Poet Lore, The Notre Dame Review, and others. Acevedo is a Cave Canem Fellow, Cantomundo Fellow, and participant of the Callaloo Writer’s Workshop. She is the author of the chapbook, Beastgirl & Other Origin Myths (YesYes Books, 2016)  and the forthcoming novel, The Poet X (HarperCollins, 2018).



Oshiro_Mark.jpgABOUT THE REVIEWER: Mark Oshiro is the Hugo-nominated writer of the online Mark Does Stuff universe (Mark Reads and Mark Watches), where he analyzes book and television series unspoiled. He was the nonfiction editor of Queers Destroy Science Fiction! and the co-editor of Speculative Fiction 2015. He is the President of the Con or Bust Board of Directors and is usually busy trying to fulfill his lifelong goal to pet every dog in the world. His YA Contemporary debut, Anger is a Gift, is out May 22, 2018 with Tor Teen.


Book Review: Danza!: Amalia Hernández and El Ballet Folklórico de México by Duncan Tonatiuh


Review written by: Sanjuana C. Rodriguez

DESCRIPTION FROM THE COVER: As a child, Amalia Hernández saw a pair of dancers in the town square. The way they stomped and swayed to the rhythm of the music inspired her. She knew one day she would become a dancer.

Amalia studied ballet and modern dance under the direction of skilled teachers who had performed in world-renowned dance companies. But she never forgot the folk dance she had seen years earlier. She began traveling through the Mexican countryside witnessing the dances of many regions, and she used her knowledge of ballet and modern dance to adapt the traditional dances to the stage. She founded her own dance company, a group that became known as El Ballet Folklórico de México.

Using his signature illustration style, inspired by the ancient art of the Mixtecs, award-winning author and illustrator Duncan Tonatiuh tells the story of Amalia Hernández and the formation of the Flokloric Ballet, one of the most famous and successful dance companies in the world.

MY TWO CENTS: Danza!: Amalia Hernández and El Ballet Folklórico de México tells the story of Amalia Hernández and the dance company that she founded. The description of Amalia’s life is told in a straightforward way and her story in enhanced by the beautiful illustrations. Amalia’s story of hard work, passion, and dedication is inspiring to read. Duncan Tonatiuh is intentional in mentioning the way that Amalia learned about the regions in which she danced. Through his storytelling, Tonatiuh details how Amalia Hernández took great care to learn about the regions of Mexico that she would be representing in her performances, “Ami began to travel to villages all around the country to learn as much as she could about the area’s traditional dances. She read about the history of each place and talked with elders.” This is important because it shows how Amalia tried to honor the traditions and people that she was representing in her productions.  The book details how Amalia’s dance company became famous in Mexico and around the world through representing the traditional dances inspired by the different regions in Mexico. The book also details how El Ballet Folklórico de México continues to perform every week and has been doing so for the past 50 years.

Through this book, Tonatiuh introduces us to an important historical figure who may not be well known. He introduces readers to Amalia and in doing so, he describes her importance in Mexico and the world. While discussing Amalia’s impact and legacy, Tonatiuh states that “She made the folkloric dances of Mexico known around the world, and she encouraged people of Mexican origin to feel pride in their roots and in their traditional dances”. This book highlights someone who was not only excellent in her field, but was also proud of her cultural heritage.

Tonatiuh’s signature illustrations, based on pre-Columbian Mexican art are a masterpiece! The pictures depict the traditional dances that Amalia’s dance company performed. The illustrations are colorful, fun, and bold. In particular, the movement of the dancers is done in such a way that readers able to see the movement in the different dances.

The back of the book offers more information about Amalia Hernández in the author’s notes. Here, Tonatiuh details some of the hardships and difficulties that Amalia experienced in establishing her dance company.  The book also offers an index, glossary, and sources where readers can get more information about the topic.

Prior to reading this book, I was not familiar with Amalia or the dance company that she worked to establish. As I read the text, I began to ask myself about Mexican historical figures, particularly women and the lack of representation of Mexican women in texts. This book is a great introduction to a woman who had a passion, worked hard to achieve her goals, was immensely proud of her Mexican heritage, and who sought to share Mexico’s rich history with the world through dance. I am providing some links that can help readers become familiar with Amalia and El Ballet Folklórico de México. There were several stories written about her after Google honored her with a doodle in September 2017 after what would have been her 100th birthday.

Amalia Hernandez’s 100th Birthday


Amalia Hernandez, the revolutionary Mexican dance pioneer, gets a Google Doodle salute


 Website for El Ballet Floklórico de México


WHERE TO GET IT: To find Danza! Amalia Hernández and El Ballet Folklórico de México, check your local public library, your local bookstore, or IndieBound. Also, check out GoodreadsAmazon, and Barnes & Noble.


ABOUT THE AUTHOR/ILLUSTRATOR: Duncan was born in Mexico City and grew up in San Miguel de Allende. He graduated from Parsons The New School for Design and from Eugene Lang College in New York City in 2008. His work is inspired by Ancient Mexican art, particularly that of the Mixtec codex. His aim is to create images that honor the past, but that address contemporary issues that affect people of Mexican origin on both sides of the border. His book Pancho Rabbit and the Coyote: A Migrant’s Tale is the winner of the 2014 Tomás Rivera Mexican American children’s book award. It is also the first book to receive two honorable mentions, one for the illustrations and one for the text, from the Pura Belpré Award for a work that best portrays, affirms, and celebrates the Latino cultural experience in children’s books. The book was featured in USA Today, The Chicago Sun, The Houston Chronicle among other major publications because it deals with the controversial topic of immigration. His book Diego Rivera: His World and Ours won the 2012 Pura Belpré illustration award. It also won the 2012 Tomás Rivera. His first book Dear Primo: A Letter to My Cousin received an honorable mention from the Pura Belpré Award in 2011. It was named an Americas Award Commended Title and a Notable Book for a Global Society list.


ABOUT THE REVIEWER: Sanjuana C. Rodriguez is an Assistant Professor of Literacy and Reading Education in the Elementary and Early Childhood Department at Kennesaw State University. Her research interests include the early literacy development of culturally and linguistically diverse students, early writing development, literacy development of students who are emergent bilinguals, and Latinx children’s literature. She has published in journals such as Journal of Language and Literacy Education, Language Arts, and Language Arts Journal of Michigan.