Punching the Air
By Ibi Zoboi and Yusef Salaam
4.5/5
()
About this ebook
New York Times and USA Today bestseller * Boston Globe-Horn Book Honor * Walter Award Winner * Goodreads Finalist for Best Teen Book of the Year * Time Magazine Best Book of the Year * Publishers Weekly Best Book of the Year * Shelf Awareness Best Book of the Year * School Library Journal Best Book of the Year * Kirkus Best Book of the Year * New York Public Library Best Book of the Year
From award-winning, bestselling author Ibi Zoboi and prison reform activist Yusef Salaam of the Exonerated Five comes a powerful YA novel in verse about a boy who is wrongfully incarcerated. A must-read for fans of Jason Reynolds, Walter Dean Myers, and Elizabeth Acevedo.
The story that I thought
was my life
didn’t start on the day
I was born
Amal Shahid has always been an artist and a poet. But even in a diverse art school, because of a biased system he’s seen as disruptive and unmotivated. Then, one fateful night, an altercation in a gentrifying neighborhood escalates into tragedy. “Boys just being boys” turns out to be true only when those boys are white.
The story that I think
will be my life
starts today
Suddenly, at just sixteen years old, Amal is convicted of a crime he didn’t commit and sent to prison. Despair and rage almost sink him until he turns to the refuge of his words, his art. This never should have been his story. But can he change it?
With spellbinding lyricism, award-winning author Ibi Zoboi and prison reform activist Yusef Salaam tell a moving and deeply profound story about how one boy is able to maintain his humanity and fight for the truth in a system designed to strip him of both.
Ibi Zoboi
Ibi Zoboi is the New York Times bestselling author of American Street, a National Book Award finalist; Nigeria Jones, a Coretta Scott King Award winner; Pride; My Life as an Ice Cream Sandwich; Okoye to the People: A Black Panther Novel for Marvel; and the Walter Award and LA Times Book Prize–winning Punching the Air, cowritten with Exonerated Five member Yusef Salaam. She is also a two-time Coretta Scott King Honor Award winner for her picture book The People Remember and her middle grade biography of Octavia Butler, Star Child. She is the editor of the anthology Black Enough. Born in Haiti and raised in New York City, she now lives in New Jersey with her family. You can find her online at ibizoboi.net.
Read more from Ibi Zoboi
Pride: A Pride & Prejudice Remix Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5American Street Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5
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Reviews for Punching the Air
95 ratings5 reviews
- Rating: 5 out of 5 stars5/5audiobook teen novel in verse inspired by real people/stories (wrongful incarceration of Black Muslim artist/poet teen, story of hope)
- Rating: 5 out of 5 stars5/5Powerful and an absolute must-read for children and adults. I'm still thinking about this book trying to organize my feelings into a coherent thought. It was very impactful and takes the reader on an emotional journey.
- Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5A gorgeous piece of art, Punching the Air deserves all the accolades and attention it is receiving. Acclaimed YA author Ibi Zoboi and Exonerated Five member Yusef Salaam have collaborated to write this beautiful novel-in-verse that tells the story of Amal, a Muslim teen accused of attempted murder during a street fight. The authors push the boundaries of free verse and storytelling in the best way, and the results are emotional and a painful exploration of our white supremacist judicial system.
- Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5Amal Shahid is an aspiring artist and poet. Umi, his mother, is a fierce woman who is Amal’s strength during his trials. He is wrongfully convicted and expresses his experiences with the inequities of the judicial system. Anal documents the discrepancy between himself and his white counterpart. Punching the Air is the story of a benevolent boy who fights for the truth through a system designed to suppress it. Because of Yusef Salaam’s similar experience with the judicial system; these poems are blunt, innovative, and powerful. Ethan and Ibi do an excellent job articulating the severity of the situation and depth of emotions. Punching the Air is a captivating young adult read that is reflective of current times.
- Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5This should be required reading in high school. Stories about young people aimed at young people. Heartbreaking truthfully and critically needed to be heard by all.
Book preview
Punching the Air - Ibi Zoboi
Part I
Birth
Umi gave birth to me
at home
She has a video
and every birthday
she makes me watch
When I was little
I would run away
Umi would laugh and say
Come here, boy
You gotta remember
where you came from!
She’d chase me around
that small apartment
and I’d cover my eyes and
pretend to be gagging
That’s nasty, Mama, I’d say
That’s life, Amal
You have to respect it
she’d say
Umi was in this inflatable pool
in the middle of our living room
with the midwife next to her
My father was holding the camera
She was taking deep fire breaths
eyes closed tight, not even screaming
almost praying
Then the midwife plunged
both her hands into the pool
And then
there I was rising out of water
Squirming little brown thing
barely crying
big eyes wide
as if I’d already done this before
as if I’d already been here before
Umi says
I was born with an
old, old soul
Old Soul
The thing about being born
with an old soul
is that
an old soul can’t tell you
all the things you weren’t supposed to do
all the things that went wrong
all the things that will make it right again
The thing about having an old soul
is that
no one can see that it’s there
hunched over with wrinkly brown skin
thick gray hair, deep cloudy eyes
that have already seen the past, present, and future
all balled up into a small universe
right here, right now
in this courtroom
Courtroom
I know the courtroom ain’t
the set of a music video, ain’t
Coachella or the BET Awards, ain’t
MTV, VH1, or the Grammys
But still
there’s an audience
of fans, experts, and judges
Eyes watching through filtered screens
seeing every lie, reading every made-up word
like a black hoodie counts as a mask
like some shit I do with my fingers
counts as gang signs
like a few fights counts as uncontrollable rage
like failing three classes
counts as being dumb as fuck
like everything that I am, that I’ve ever been
counts as being
guilty
Character Witness
We’re in the courtroom
to hear the jury’s verdict
after only a few hours of
deliberation
and Ms. Rinaldi, my art teacher
was a character witness
It was the first time
she saw me
in a suit and tie
like the one I was supposed to wear
to the art opening at the museum
Or the one I was supposed to wear
to my first solo show in the school’s gym
The suit I was supposed to wear
to prom, to my cousin’s graduation
to mosque with Umi
is the suit I wear to my first trial
It’s as if this event in my life
was something that was
supposed to happen all along
Gray Suit
Umi told me to wear a gray suit
becauseoptics
But that gray didn’t make me any less black
My white lawyer didn’t make me any less black
And words can paint black-and-white pictures, too
Maybe ideas have their own eyes
separating black from white as if the world
is some old, old TV show
Maybe ideas segregate like in the days of
Dr. King, and no matter how many marches
or Twitter hashtags or Justice for So-and-So
our mind’s eyes and our eyes’ minds
see the world as they want to
Everything already illustrated
in black and white
Anger Management
Did you ever see Amal get angry?
the prosecutor asked Ms. Rinaldi
It’s the most important question in my trial
Am I angryAm I violentAm I—
Objection, Clyde said
Sustained, the judge said
Did Amal ever display emotions that were—
Yes, Ms. Rinaldi said
That’s why I work so hard with Amal
To channel his anger into his art
And I know, I know
that right then and there
she didn’t even have to look my way
because she won’t see me
She’s never seen me
She only sees my paintings and drawings
as if me and what I create
are two different worlds
There’s a stone in my throat
and a brick on my chest
White Space
In art class
Ms. Rinaldi had said that
the white space on the page
is also part of our illustration
The white space on the page
also tells a story, is part of the big picture
I didn’t get what she was saying at first
Then she showed us this painting
An optical illusion, she called it
There was a white face
with eyes, a nose, and a mouth
against a black background
But when I looked sideways
or backward or upside down
there was a black face with
eyes, nose, and a mouth
against a white background
And it was wild how my eyes
played tricks on me like that
but it was my mind that
made sense of it all
It’s wild how our minds
can play tricks on us like that
White Space II
There were more witnesses
from East Hills
than from my side of the hood
of the tracks
of the border
of that invisible line
we weren’t supposed to cross
The couple who just moved in with the baby
who said
We tried so hard to build community
The kindergarten teacher who said
I’ve always been good to those
neighborhood kids
And the college kid who
recorded the whole thing
and said
I knew something was gonna go down
so I just picked up my phone
To call the police? Clyde asked
Nah, for social, the kid said
It was like a mob
an ambush
So I went live
And no, I’ve never seen them before
Then when Clyde asked
How long have you been in the neighborhood?
Just the weekend, visiting friends
the college kid said
I didn’t think it would blow up like this
That video made you pretty famous, huh?
The college kid laughed
and all I wanted to do was
drag him off that witness stand
But that would’ve looked bad
Really bad
The Thinker
I replay everybody’s testimonies
in my head
like a song on loop
Their words and what they thought
to be their truth
were like a scalpel
shaping me into
the monster
they want me to be
I’m supposed to be
like a statue
in this courtroom
Chiseled bronze
perfectly frozen in time
like some god
stripped of his power
or a fallen angel
cast into this hell
And every lie
they say about me
every stone
they throw at me
is supposed to bounce off
like tiny pellets
Here I have to be bulletproof
Two Mouths
What happens if I’m found guilty? I ask Clyde
before the deliberation
He taps his pen on his yellow notepad
as if beating out the rhythm to some rhyme
some party anthem for whenfor when
he wins this case
And I want so bad
to grab that pen and notepad
and draw me a victory
a whole scene with dancing shapes
and hard lines turned to joy
That’s not going to happen, he says
Umi said English requires two mouths to speak
and four ears to understand
Clyde spoke with two mouths
One for me and one for the court
Blank Page
Mr. Clyde Richter, my defense attorney
is supposed to save my life
is supposed to create reasonable doubt
is supposed to let that judge and jury know
the truth
But he is part of the white space
on my page
where the charcoal and ink
only graze the edges of his world
of Ms. Rinaldi’s world
of Jeremy Mathis’s world
the white boy whose entire life
is a whole blank page of
this sketchbook
where this story begins
Black Ink
So
I am ink
He is paper
I am pencil
He is notebook
I am text
He is screen
I am paint
He is canvas
I am man
He is boy
I am criminal
He is victim
I am alive
He is almost dead
I am black
He is white
Face Painting
Ms. Rinaldi left the courtroom
after the prosecutor showed pictures
of Jeremy Mathis’s face after the fight
In school, she said I had talent, a gift
She said my lines were soft
my subjects were tender
She said I had a lot of beauty
inside me waiting to bloom
My art teacher of all people should know
I could never make a painting
with the colors of mangled flesh
of broken bone, of bruised skin
out of someone’s face
Movie Star
The people who know me
really know me
are not the ones
the judge and jury want to hear from
It’s as if they wanted to hear a story about
some other kid
It’s as if they wanted to watch a movie about
some other kid
The prosecutor, with his fancy words
his hard evidence
wrote the script, directed the scene
cast just the right actor
to play this kid from the hood
who beat up a white kid really bad
so bad
that he can’t wake up
to tell the truth
Fan Club
And the truth is
nothing else matters except this moment
right now
when I get to turn around to
look into Umi’s eyes
to remind herto remind me
that she believes me
And I want Grandma to know that
I’m goodI’m good
on the inside
Uncle Rashon knew what went down
even before he saw the news
even before he saw the video
even before he