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Stargirl by Jerry Spinelli
 
"Did you see her?" That was the first thing Kevin said to me on the first day of school, eleventh grade. We were waiting for the bell to ring. "See who?" I said. "Hah!" He craned his neck, scanning the mob. He had witnessed something remarkable; it showed on his face. He grinned, still scanning. "You'll know." There were hundreds of us, milling about, calling names, pointing to summer-tanned faces we hadn't seen since June. Our interest in each other was never keener than during the fifteen minutes before the first bell of the first day. I punched his arm. "Who?" The bell rang. We poured inside. I heard it again in homeroom, a whispered voice behind me as we said the Pledge of Allegiance. "You see her?" I heard it in the hallways. I heard it in English and Geometry: "Did you see her?" Who could it be? A new student? A spectacular blonde from California? Or from back East, where many of us came from? Or one of those summer makeovers, someone who leaves in June looking like a little girl and returns in September as a full-bodied woman, a ten-week miracle? And then in Earth Sciences I heard a name: "Stargirl." I turned to the senior slouched behind me. "Stargirl?" I said. "What kind of name is that?" "That's it. Stargirl Caraway. She said it in homeroom." "Stargirl?" "Yeah." And then I saw her. At lunch. She wore an off-white dress so long it covered her shoes. It had ruffles around the neck and cuffs and looked like it could have been her great-grandmother's wedding gown. Her hair was the color of sand. IT fell to her shoulders. Something was strapped across her back, but it wasn't a book bag. At first I thought it was a miniature guitar. I found out later it was a ukulele. She did not carry a lunch tray. She did carry a large canvas bag with a life-size sunflower painted on it. The lunchroom was dead silent as she walked by. She stopped at an empty table, laid down her bag, slung the instrument strap over he chair, and sat down. She pulled a sandwich from the bag and started to eat. Half the lunchroom kept staring, half starting buzzing. Kevin was grinning. "Wha'd I tell you?" I nodded.
"She's in tenth grade," he said. "I hear she's been homeschooled till now." "Maybe that explains it," I said. Her back was to us, so I couldn't see her face. No one sat with her, but at the tables next to hers kids were cramming two to a seat. She didn't seem to notice. She seemed marooned in a sea of staring buzzing faces. Kevin was grinning again. "You thinking what I'm thinking?" he said. I grinned back. I nodded. "Hot Seat." Hot Seat was our in-school TV show. We had started it the year before. I was producer/director, Kevin was on-camera host. Each month he interviewed a student. So far most of them had been honor student types, athletes, model citizens. Noteworthy in the usual ways, but not especially interesting. Suddenly Kevin's eyes boggled. The girl was picking up her ukulele. And now she was strumming it. And now she was singing! Strumming away, bobbing her head and shoulders, singing "I'm looking over a four-leaf clover that I over-looked before." Stone silence all around. Then came the sound of a single person clapping. I looked. It was the lunch-line cashier. And now the girl was standing, slinging her bag over one shoulder and marching among the tables, strumming and singing and strutting and twirling. Head swung, eyes followed her, mouths hung open. Disbelief. When she came by our table, I got my first good look at her face. She wasn't gorgeous, wasn't ugly. A sprinkle of freckles crossed the bridge of her nose. Mostly she looked like a hundred other girls in school, except for two things. She wore no makeup, and her eyes were the biggest I had ever seen, like deer's eyes caught in headlights. She twirled as she went past, he flaring skirt brushing my pantleg, and then she marched out of the lunchroom. From among the tables came three slow claps. Someone whistled. Someone yelped. Kevin and I gawked at each other. Kevin held up his hands and framed a marquee in the air. "Hot Seat! Coming Attraction - Stargirl!" I slapped the table. "Yes!" We slammed hands.
Posted on 11/07/06 by  Selena   Kid contributor, age 11 found @  www.commonsensemedia.org/book-reviews/Stargirl.html I   liked the book especially when i found out that stargirl had a boyfriend. She not a girl that would date people. The book was awesome! Stargirl is cool,even though she could be wierd sometimes. I think that it was a little rude when the "jury" kept asking her uncomfortable questions, i didn't like that part, i felt bad for her. and the part when they threw a tomato at her i was just mean and of course when they left her at the school and went to go play a basketball game because they didn't want her to cheer for the other team. Some parts of the book are sad and some are funny, but the book was great to read! Themes : Bullying Independence Conformity Coming of Age Tolerance                               
 
Nature versus man: a small Japanese village faces the fury of a volcano and a tsunami. The tsunami kills many of the fisherman and their  families in the village.  Jiya is from one of these families  but was able to escape before the tidal wave hit.  He is left to face the death of his father, mother and  brother.  In their culture, the Japanese are taught to  “ learn to live with danger” and “enjoy life and do not fear  death.” 
Peer Critic’s Review ,[object Object],[object Object],[object Object],[object Object]
  Themes:   Dealing with Grief   Survival   Resilience
 
                                                                                                                                                                                                                          Jean Craighead George
Genre:  Adventure Themes:   Survival   Independence   Solitude Vs. Society “ I first became aware of the delights of the natural world when my father, an entomologist, presented me with what looked like a twig. When it got up and walked, my delight was such that I wrote a poem, ‘To a Walking Stick.’ I was in the third grade and have been writing ever since.” — Jean Craighead George
[object Object],Sneak Peak:
[object Object],George wrote four sequels:                                                                           
Genre:  Survival/Adventure Themes:  ,[object Object],[object Object]
Catskill Mountains, NY
Time to choose! ,[object Object],[object Object],[object Object],[object Object]

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Shadow Day Book Talk Ppt.

  • 1. Stargirl by Jerry Spinelli
  • 2.  
  • 3. "Did you see her?" That was the first thing Kevin said to me on the first day of school, eleventh grade. We were waiting for the bell to ring. "See who?" I said. "Hah!" He craned his neck, scanning the mob. He had witnessed something remarkable; it showed on his face. He grinned, still scanning. "You'll know." There were hundreds of us, milling about, calling names, pointing to summer-tanned faces we hadn't seen since June. Our interest in each other was never keener than during the fifteen minutes before the first bell of the first day. I punched his arm. "Who?" The bell rang. We poured inside. I heard it again in homeroom, a whispered voice behind me as we said the Pledge of Allegiance. "You see her?" I heard it in the hallways. I heard it in English and Geometry: "Did you see her?" Who could it be? A new student? A spectacular blonde from California? Or from back East, where many of us came from? Or one of those summer makeovers, someone who leaves in June looking like a little girl and returns in September as a full-bodied woman, a ten-week miracle? And then in Earth Sciences I heard a name: "Stargirl." I turned to the senior slouched behind me. "Stargirl?" I said. "What kind of name is that?" "That's it. Stargirl Caraway. She said it in homeroom." "Stargirl?" "Yeah." And then I saw her. At lunch. She wore an off-white dress so long it covered her shoes. It had ruffles around the neck and cuffs and looked like it could have been her great-grandmother's wedding gown. Her hair was the color of sand. IT fell to her shoulders. Something was strapped across her back, but it wasn't a book bag. At first I thought it was a miniature guitar. I found out later it was a ukulele. She did not carry a lunch tray. She did carry a large canvas bag with a life-size sunflower painted on it. The lunchroom was dead silent as she walked by. She stopped at an empty table, laid down her bag, slung the instrument strap over he chair, and sat down. She pulled a sandwich from the bag and started to eat. Half the lunchroom kept staring, half starting buzzing. Kevin was grinning. "Wha'd I tell you?" I nodded.
  • 4. "She's in tenth grade," he said. "I hear she's been homeschooled till now." "Maybe that explains it," I said. Her back was to us, so I couldn't see her face. No one sat with her, but at the tables next to hers kids were cramming two to a seat. She didn't seem to notice. She seemed marooned in a sea of staring buzzing faces. Kevin was grinning again. "You thinking what I'm thinking?" he said. I grinned back. I nodded. "Hot Seat." Hot Seat was our in-school TV show. We had started it the year before. I was producer/director, Kevin was on-camera host. Each month he interviewed a student. So far most of them had been honor student types, athletes, model citizens. Noteworthy in the usual ways, but not especially interesting. Suddenly Kevin's eyes boggled. The girl was picking up her ukulele. And now she was strumming it. And now she was singing! Strumming away, bobbing her head and shoulders, singing "I'm looking over a four-leaf clover that I over-looked before." Stone silence all around. Then came the sound of a single person clapping. I looked. It was the lunch-line cashier. And now the girl was standing, slinging her bag over one shoulder and marching among the tables, strumming and singing and strutting and twirling. Head swung, eyes followed her, mouths hung open. Disbelief. When she came by our table, I got my first good look at her face. She wasn't gorgeous, wasn't ugly. A sprinkle of freckles crossed the bridge of her nose. Mostly she looked like a hundred other girls in school, except for two things. She wore no makeup, and her eyes were the biggest I had ever seen, like deer's eyes caught in headlights. She twirled as she went past, he flaring skirt brushing my pantleg, and then she marched out of the lunchroom. From among the tables came three slow claps. Someone whistled. Someone yelped. Kevin and I gawked at each other. Kevin held up his hands and framed a marquee in the air. "Hot Seat! Coming Attraction - Stargirl!" I slapped the table. "Yes!" We slammed hands.
  • 5. Posted on 11/07/06 by Selena Kid contributor, age 11 found @ www.commonsensemedia.org/book-reviews/Stargirl.html I liked the book especially when i found out that stargirl had a boyfriend. She not a girl that would date people. The book was awesome! Stargirl is cool,even though she could be wierd sometimes. I think that it was a little rude when the "jury" kept asking her uncomfortable questions, i didn't like that part, i felt bad for her. and the part when they threw a tomato at her i was just mean and of course when they left her at the school and went to go play a basketball game because they didn't want her to cheer for the other team. Some parts of the book are sad and some are funny, but the book was great to read! Themes : Bullying Independence Conformity Coming of Age Tolerance                         
  • 6.  
  • 7. Nature versus man: a small Japanese village faces the fury of a volcano and a tsunami. The tsunami kills many of the fisherman and their families in the village.  Jiya is from one of these families but was able to escape before the tidal wave hit.  He is left to face the death of his father, mother and brother.  In their culture, the Japanese are taught to “ learn to live with danger” and “enjoy life and do not fear death.” 
  • 8.
  • 9. Themes: Dealing with Grief Survival Resilience
  • 10.  
  • 11.                                                                                                                                                                                                    Jean Craighead George
  • 12. Genre: Adventure Themes: Survival Independence Solitude Vs. Society “ I first became aware of the delights of the natural world when my father, an entomologist, presented me with what looked like a twig. When it got up and walked, my delight was such that I wrote a poem, ‘To a Walking Stick.’ I was in the third grade and have been writing ever since.” — Jean Craighead George
  • 13.
  • 14.
  • 15.
  • 17.