100 Books Like Unbroken

Although I love a book that takes you traveling to the past or to foreign lands, sometimes I want to jump into the shoes of a contemporary character and understand their world. This book does just that. 

Starr Carter is a black teenager who lives in a poor, predominantly black neighborhood but attends an elite, mostly white private school. Starr manages to code-switch between her two lives until her childhood friend is shot by the police. 

If you like books about social justice and characters who stand up for what they believe, this is a fantastic read. 

I was immediately drawn to this book. I knew this story. A childhood friend’s family had fled the Russian army when they invaded Estonia during World War II. So it is easy for me to believe, counter-intuitive as it may seem, that an unlikely group of Eastern European refugees would flee the advancing Russian army, hoping for safety in Germany.

I loved their “found family.” How many of us, far from where we grew up, turn to friends for support? But Sepetys’ group boards the ill-fated Wilhelm Gustloff, a German ship carrying 10,000 refugees. Based on the true story of a maritime disaster, the novel highlights how war creates victims on all sides but also how people rise to help each other face unimaginable challenges.

In a heartfelt story of redemption, Deanna Lambert was labeled the school slut after her father caught her having car sex with a high school boy. Unforgiven and dejected in a smothering, gossip-fueled small town, Deanna faces the people she least wants to face in a moving attempt to outlive her past, with no help offered by her dysfunctional parents and a sister overwhelmed with young motherhood. I loved the gorgeous realism of this book, fueled by the deep intimacy Zarr creates with her sincere, frank-hearted, narrator.

Boy Toy is a book that stands out for me because it tackles a rarely discussed subject in young adult literature—the sexual abuse of boys. In this case, the protagonist, Josh, was molested by a teacher when he was younger. Now that he is about to graduate from high school, the repercussions of that abuse, along with the everyday stress he deals with, is coming back to haunt him. Lyga handles this subject matter in an unflinching and realistic way, which can be uncomfortable at times. That said, Boy Toy is definitely a worthwhile, original read.

Demitria Lunetta is a wonder. Her debut novel, In the After, has been described as a postapocalyptic thriller, but it’s the inclusion of sci-fi and horror elements that really makes this book unputdownable. The novel’s teen protagonist, Amy, is a fierce, plucky, and formidable heroine who literally faces what looks like the end of the world before living to fight, be rescued, and fight some more for herself and the person she cares about most. It’s the perfect read for anyone who loves speculative fiction with grit and adrenaline thrown in.

Resmaa’s book is one of the more influential books for me.

Though his focus is on racialized and generational trauma, he begins by helping the reader understand where biases, fears, and oppression become lodged in the nervous system–generations before us–and how this shapes the way we interact with anyone who is different than us.

Mixed in with excellent content are effective practices for the reader to find a sense of grounding and safety in their current surroundings which is key in being able to resolve the trauma that is living in our bodies. 

Love is a word that not many of us understand, but Buscaglia explains it so well. When people use the word "love," they express their understanding of love at that moment. There is no universal definition of love. Sometimes teens don’t know if they love themselves because it is not tangible. This book helps them know that they are worthy of that love. Love changed my life when I was in high school. It helped me understand myself and influenced my life purpose: to be kind and in solidarity with people. When I work with teens, they often feel untethered by not having, and not knowing, their purpose. In my book, I teach how important a goal is to feel good about yourself, and setting one is much simpler than you think it is! It helps motivate them to get over their anxiety.

Rankin is a doctor who is disheartened by allopathic medicine and is looking for the answers to how we heal in this exploration of different and ancient perspectives of gaining wellness. To solve the mental health crisis, we have to solve the physical health crisis because they are connected. Rankin talks about what disease does to the mind and what the mind does to disease, empowering people to take healing into their own hands. This is how we want to raise our kids to think about wellness. In this tell-all, she debunks the myths of healing and explains the unexplainable in a way that engages our agency in our healing process giving us empowered hope.

Black Disability Politics also just came out in early Fall 2022, and I was very excited to receive my print copy. The book shows how Black people have long engaged with disability as a political issue tightly tied to race and racism. This, however, has not been the story told in disability studies or in mainstream histories of the Disability Rights movement. Schalk deeply explores archives (for instance those of the Black Panther Party) and layers these findings across interviews with contemporary Black disabled community organizers, to recognize the richness and power of Black disability politics. This book is full of surprises, memorable archival anecdotes, and powerful conversations between Schalk and others. You should read this book! If a goal within ableist and white supremacist society is liberation, Schalk shows how essential it is to engage in antiracist, feminist, and anti-ableist political and cultural coalition.

I find Puar’s work to be very useful even if the theoretical framework she uses is different from, though adjacent to, mine. Usually I find the “biopolitical” analysis cloying and idealist, but Puar has developed her own materialist use of this framework that I have learned a lot from. In The Right to Maim Puar examines the liberal state’s use of maiming and debilitation as part of the reproduction of its hegemony. Not only does she examine the way a liberal disability discourse functions to exclude marginalized and targeted populations—proposing a vector of disability, debility, and capacity—she also interrogates how maiming functions in capitalist, colonial, and imperialist state policing. Moreover, her case study of Palestine, based on her own fieldwork, makes the more abstract aspects of her theory concrete.