The first line of Jacqueline Woodson's Harbor Me jolts the reader into the news cycle through the eyes of a child. As this captivating novel moves forward we will hear, see and feel more through this lens. It's a powerful vantage point, and one that holds both the practical realities and the lyrical poignancy of 11-year-old voices in equal tension…There is no escape from the outside world in this book, from the political tempest swirling around us. But sometimes a closer look, a deeper understanding, a different point of view, is better than an escape—especially for kids trying to make sense of the time they were born into.

★ 05/21/2018
Woodson (Brown Girl Dreaming) celebrates all that is essential and good for humanity—compassion, understanding, security, and freedom—in this touching novel about six children with special needs. Sixth-grader Haley and her best friend, Holly, don’t know much about their four male classmates when they are placed in a self-contained classroom. They soon discover the things that they do and do not have in common when, on Friday afternoons, their teacher takes them to ARTT (a room to talk). Here, without adult supervision, the class can have conversations about anything. Usually the students use the time to unburden themselves of problems ranging from a parent’s deportation to bullying in the schoolyard. Haley is the last to spill her secrets, about her mother’s death and why her father is in prison, and afterwards she is rewarded with a feeling of lightness, “like so many bricks had been lifted off me,” she says. Woodson’s skills as poet and master storyteller shine brightly here as she economically uses language to express emotion and delve into the hearts of her characters. Showing how America’s political and social issues affect children on a daily basis, this novel will leave an indelible mark on readers’ minds. Ages 10–up. (Aug.)

* “Woodson celebrates all that is essential and good for humanity—compassion, understanding, security, and freedom—in this touching novel. . . . Woodson’s skills as poet and master storyteller shine brightly here as she economically uses language to express emotion and delve into the hearts of her characters. Showing how America’s political and social issues affect children on a daily basis, this novel will leave an indelible mark on readers’ minds.”—Publishers Weekly, starred review

* “Woodson delivers a powerful tale of community and mutual growth. The bond they develop is palpable. . . . The characters ring true as they discuss issues both personal and global. This story, told with exquisite language and clarity of narrative, is both heartbreaking and hopeful. An extraordinary and timely piece of writing.”—Kirkus Reviews, starred review

* “The magic is in the writing. Woodson tells stories torn from headlines but personalizes them with poetry and memories, blunting their trauma with understanding and love. Haley’s history weaves in and out, drawing readers close. These children become each other's safe harbors and Woodson brilliantly shows readers how to find the connections we all need.”—Booklist, starred review

* “Woodson’s spare, lyrical, and evocative prose carries the story seamlessly, weaving in themes of justice and family, friendship and courage. This is a timely and beautifully written story that should be on library shelves everywhere.”—School Library Journal, starred review

* "In her first middle-grade novel since her 2014 National Book Award winner, Brown Girl Dreaming, National Ambassador for Young People's Literature Jacqueline Woodson deftly alchemizes a sixth-grade classroom into an affecting metaphor for racial, political and socioeconomic challenges—enhanced by the transformative power of storytelling: ‘what matter[ed] most is that we were heard.’ . . . A powerful love letter to effective teachers, unexpected friendship and the healing magic of hearing, recording and sharing words.”—Shelf Awareness, starred review

“Explore[s] deep issues of identity, community, family, change, and forgiveness. The power of remembrance is also an important theme. . . . Will speak to young people’s insecurities and fears while recognizing their courage in facing them, and [Woodson's] craft as a weaver of words and imagery is evident on every page. A timely tribute to the resilience of young people and to the power of human connection that often overrides our differences.”—Horn Book

“Takes readers on a journey during which young urban teenagers discover the satisfaction of a well-wrought conversation. Woodson's easygoing lyrical voice is the highlight. . . . Each likable young person tells an engaging story, and the others are quick to listen. . . . Many urban readers will hear their story in one of these six's narratives. . . . With alternatingly simple, realistic language and flashes of lyrical romanticism . . . will please teachers trying to coax personal revelations from their students.”—Voice of Youth Advocates 

"Leaves readers of all ages asking, 'would I let myself be a harbor for someone who needs it?'”—School Library Connection

★ 08/01/2018
Gr 4–6—In sixth grade, Haley is part of a special class of six kids that include Holly, Esteban, Amari, Tiago, and Ashton. On the first Friday of the school year, Ms. Laverne tells them to grab their books and follow her. She leads them to what used to be the art room and gives them some simple directions. They are supposed to sit in a circle and talk. The students are confused at first. What are they supposed to talk about? Ms. Laverne assures them they can talk about whatever they want to and need to. The next Friday, Haley comes in with a recorder, telling her friends it's so that they won't forget each other. Through the "recordings," readers get to know each of the six classmates through their own words. Each character reveals the difficult things they're balancing in their lives, whether it's an incarcerated parent, a dead parent, a family split apart by immigration policies, a father who lost his job, or their daily struggles with racism and microaggressions. Woodson's spare, lyrical, and evocative prose carries the story seamlessly, weaving in themes of justice and family, friendship and courage. VERDICT This is a timely and beautifully written story that should be on library shelves everywhere.—Stacy Dillon, LREI, New York

N’Jameh Camara narrates the emotive narrative of biracial Haley, who describes increasingly honest conversations among six classmates along with her own undisclosed truths. In this unique audio, six narrators represent characters in shared dialogues. Toshi Widoff-Woodson, portraying an African-American girl, is defensive and a bit spoiled. Dean Flanagan is reticent Ashton, a bullied white boy. Mikelle Wright-Matos affects a near swagger as Ashton’s confident African-American friend, Amari. Jose Carrera’s deeper, lightly accented Latinx voice chimes in as Tiago, and Angel Romero is the worried Esteban, whose father has been taken away by ICE. The least strong portrayal is by the author, a fitting representation of the teacher who remains in the background so her students can speak freely. An interview between Woodson and her son, Jackson Leroi, which serves as an afterword, is honest and powerful. S.W. Winner of AudioFile Earphones Award, 2018 Best Audiobook © AudioFile 2018, Portland, Maine

★ 2018-06-11
Just before she begins seventh grade, Haley tells the story of the previous school year, when she and five other students from an experimental classroom were brought together.Each has been bullied or teased about their difficulties in school, and several face real challenges at home. Haley is biracial and cared for by her white uncle due to the death of her African-American mother and her white father's incarceration. Esteban, of Dominican heritage, is coping with his father's detention by ICE and the possible fracturing of his family. It is also a time when Amari learns from his dad that he can no longer play with toy guns because he is a boy of color. This reveals the divide between them and their white classmate, Ashton. "It's not fair that you're a boy and Ashton's a boy and he can do something you can't do anymore. That's not freedom," Haley says. They support one another, something Haley needs as she prepares for her father's return from prison and her uncle's decision to move away. Woodson delivers a powerful tale of community and mutual growth. The bond they develop is palpable. Haley's recorder is both an important plot element and a metaphor for the power of voice and story. The characters ring true as they discuss issues both personal and global. This story, told with exquisite language and clarity of narrative, is both heartbreaking and hopeful. An extraordinary and timely piece of writing. (Fiction. 10-14)