Exploring a New Perspective

I fell in love with books before I knew how to read them. My mom would read the same books over and over again. Even if she brought home new books, I would still ask her to read the old ones. I am sure she hoped I would get sick of hearing the same stories and eventually pick something else, but I never did. She would read whatever I asked until I did not really need her to read aloud anymore.

One night, she was about halfway through the book and she looked over at me. I was sitting with my eyes closed, mouthing every word as she spoke it. I had it memorized from beginning to end.

Instead of focusing on the pages, I escaped to whatever world that the words transported me to. In these worlds, my parents didn't argue about bills or custody agreements. I could ignore the criticism from my classmates when I showed up in last year's clothes; my mom working three jobs and upset she couldn't buy us new ones.

Number the Stars by Lois Lowry was the first book that made me realize that I should feel lucky for these problems. It was the first book to make my problems shrink instead of just running from them. It was the first book that made me pay attention to each and every word instead of just skimming through because I was able to assume what happened. I wanted to absorb the whole thing and I read it so many times that it fell apart because I learned a new lesson every time.

It is genuinely difficult for me to express my love for this novel in 500 words. To put it simply, Number the Stars taught me to be grateful and sparked a passion to understand of be emphathetic of injustices.

This book was my first memorable experience learning some of the realities and the horrors of discrimination (the best a 10-year-old can understand). It started to shine a light on things like racism, anti-Semitism, and other -isms that I explored with ferver throughout my high school and college programs. This novel for young kids takes on the challenge of explaining topics that are hard to explain to and converse with grown adults. It does so with reason, facts, and compassion.

I was the same age as Annemarie Johansen when I first read the book, but that was the only thing about our lives that was the same. At age 10, Annemarie was responsible for the safety and well-being of her siblings, and if she failed, they would all suffer. The only thing I was responsible for was taking out the trash.

This book awakened my awareness of struggles much more complicated than mine have ever been. It is a subtle reminder to be aware of the privileges that I have not had to earn, but have been handed solely based on superficial characteristics I was born with or into.