Gwendolyn’s IEP says there’s nothing wrong with her except the 54 ways people believe she chooses to be bad.
Gwendolyn knows she shouldn’t have opened the school assessment about her behavior, but because she did, she knows there’s nothing actually wrong with her. She’s just a lazy, socially inept, defiant, whiny 11-year-old girl—not to mention the other 50 items on the report that she writes down and studies. Gwendolyn can’t ever remember her pencil, forgets her homework, lashes out violently, and she’s always, always in trouble. She feels balanced when she’s with horses, but she’s lost horse privileges ever since she had a scary, unexpected tantrum following the advice of a terrible therapist. At least she’s got Tyler, the half brother she only recently learned about. Tyler’s got a diagnosis of ADHD but still sometimes acts out despite treatment. But how come the teachers never call Tyler’s mom when he’s bad? Or the moms of any of the misbehaving boys, for that matter? Why are teachers so unhelpful and sarcastic? Gwendolyn’s mother finally gets her a good therapist, and as Dr. Nessa walks them through diagnosis, bad medication reactions, adaptation, and fighting ableism, their pain and epiphanies are gut-wrenchingly genuine. Most characters read as White; Dr. Nessa is cued as Black.
Incredibly reassuring and helpful for readers struggling in an ableist world.
(Fiction. 11-13)