Gr 8 Up-Rashad Butler is a quiet, artistic teen who hates ROTC but dutifully attends because father insists "there's no better opportunity for a black boy in this country than to join the army." He heads to Jerry's corner store on a Friday night to buy chips, and ends up the victim of unwarranted arrest and police brutality: an event his white schoolmate Quinn Collins witnesses in terrified disbelief. Quinn is even more shocked because the cop is Paul Galluzzo, older brother of his best friend and Quinn's mentor since his father died in Afghanistan. As events unfold, both boys are forced to confront the knowledge that racism in America has not disappeared and that change will not come unless they step forward. Reynolds and Kiely's collaborative effort deftly explores the aftermath of police brutality, addressing the fear, confusion, and anger that affects entire communities. Diverse perspectives are presented in a manner that feels organic to the narrative, further emphasizing the tension created when privilege and racism cannot be ignored. Timely and powerful, this novel promises to have an impact long after the pages stop turning. VERDICT Great for fostering discussions about current events among teenage audiences. A must-have for all collections.-Ashleigh Williams, School Library Journal © Copyright 2015. Library Journals LLC, a wholly owned subsidiary of Media Source, Inc. No redistribution permitted.

Teens Rashad (who is African American) and Quinn (who is white) are high school classmates and not much moreneither even knows the others name. But when a quick stop at the corner store for a bag of chips on a Friday night suddenly escalates into a terrifying scene of police brutality, the two boys are linked and altered by the violenceRashad as its victim and Quinn as its witness. During the week following the incident, and in alternating voices, the teens narrate events as Rashad deals with his injuries and the unwanted limelight as the latest black victim in the news; and as Quinn tries to understand how a cop he considers family could be capable of such unprovoked rage, and where his loyalties are now supposed to lie. Faced with an all-too-common issue, both narrators must navigate opposing views from their friends and families to decide for themselves whether to get involved or walk away. Written with sharp humor and devastating honesty, this nuanced, thoughtful novel recalls the work of Walter Dean Myers and is worthy of his legacy. Reynolds and Kiely explore issues of racism, power, and justice with a diverse (ethnically and philosophically) cast of characters and two remarkable protagonists forced to grapple with the layered complexities of growing up in a racially tense America. anastasia m. collins (c) Copyright 2015. The Horn Book, Inc., a wholly owned subsidiary of Media Source, Inc. No redistribution permitted.

In this painful and all-too-timely book, two authors-one black, one white-present a story of police brutality. Reynolds (The Boy in the Black Suit) voices Rashad, the innocent victim of a police beating; Kiely (The Gospel of Winter) writes Quinn, a horrified witness. The book moves quickly, starting on a Friday night with the boys-classmates who don't know each other-preparing for a party, and ending with a social-media-inspired protest march one week later. For Rashad, the week means facing the physical and mental effects of what has happened, including a father who initially assumes that Rashad is guilty. For fatherless Quinn, the struggle comes from the fact that the cop is not only the older brother of a close friend, but also a father figure. The scenario that Reynolds and Kiely depict has become a recurrent feature of news reports, and a book that lets readers think it through outside of the roiling emotions of a real-life event is both welcome and necessary. Ages 12-up. Agent: (for Reynolds) Elena Giovinazzo, Pippin Properties; (for Kiely) Rob Weisbach, Rob Weisbach Creative Management. (Sept.) © Copyright PWxyz, LLC. All rights reserved.

"RASHAD IS ABSENT AGAIN TODAY," Cries the graffiti scrawled across the sidewalk in front of Springfield Central High School. It is both a reminder and a call to action. Rashad Butler, a 16-year-old junior R.O.T.C. member and young black man, is in the hospital after a white police officer assaulted him in a convenience store. Rashad had intended to pay for a bag of chips, but Officer Paul Galluzzo mistook him for a thief. Outraged at the injustice, Rashad's fellow students rise up in protest. A reminder and a call to action - "All American Boys" strives to be both for its readers. As scenarios similar to its premise play out in the real world, it is necessary and appropriate for a novel to delve into these issues; fiction allows a glimpse of the world through another perspective. And so this book's device of employing two narrators - one black, one white, each account written by a different author - is especially apt. The result is an intriguing insider-outsider look at an instance of police brutality. Jason Reynolds ("The Boy in the Black Suit," "When I Was the Greatest") writes from Rashad's point of view. Rashad is stuck in a hospital bed, trying to make sense of what happened. He faces skepticism from his father about his innocence, grapples with his brother's determination to protest and feels trapped by the surreal, repetitive vision of himself on the national news. Underlying his stasis is the clear sense that he's in life- and freedom-threatening danger for unjust reasons. Reynolds writes Rashad's voice with an immediacy that demands empathy: "My brain exploded into a million thoughts and only one thought at the same time - please don't kill me." Brendan Kiely's Quinn witnesses Officer Galluzzo beating Rashad. Quinn's voice takes a more distant tone. He's an observer, not an experiencer, of the events, but he has a connection to them: Quinn's best friend is Galluzzo's younger brother. Kiely ("The Gospel of Winter") raises the question: Is it necessary for a white person to witness a violent act of racial bias in order to believe it is wrong, or even that it has happened at all? Quinn spends the book deciding where his loyalties lie - worthy considerations, indeed, but pale compared with the lifealtering physical and psychological damage Rashad experiences. Thus the book artfully points out a classic conundrum of race relations: The problems white people face with regard to racism cannot be made parallel to those black people face. "This is not about you," a friend tells Quinn, as he agonizes over whether to admit to the world what he saw. Soon after, he realizes "there was a problem, and ... I was a part of it." Quinn's political awakening creates forward momentum as the authors undertake two distinct tasks: to humanize the victimized black teenager forced into this dialogue against his will, and to give depth to the white bystander who must, from his place of privilege, choose whether to engage in it. BOTH CHARACTERS ARE successfully drawn. Rashad's relative powerlessness makes him sympathetic, and yet it is also sad - the best he can do is to survive. Quinn must learn to override a lifetime of privilege-based conditioning. The image of Rashad on the pavement looms as Quinn's friends repeat the mantra that Officer Galluzzo was just doing his job, the implication being that mistakes made in the line of duty should be forgiven, or not even be regarded as mistakes. Kiely critiques this viewpoint through Quinn, who evolves from bystander to someone willing to stand up. Questions linger in the reader's mind: What does it mean for cops to be "doing their jobs?" To subdue and detain over the vaguest possible threat? Or to move through the world with measured restraint, placing themselves in harm's way for the greater good? It is perhaps too easy to call this worthy book timely and thought-provoking. Let us reach beyond simple praise and treat it instead as a book to be grappled with, challenged by, and discussed. "All American Boys" represents one voice - even better, two voices - in a national conversation that must continue beyond its pages. Rashad and Quinn tell their stories but never meet. In a brief final chapter set at a community protest, we hear their voices side by side, as dialogue, reminding us that perhaps, in these fraught days, that is what has been missing all along. KEKLA MAGOON is the Coretta Scott King Honor-winning author of "How It Went Down" and a co-author of "X: A Novel."

Two boys, one black and one white, act out an all-too-familiar drama when the former is brutally beaten during an arrest and the latter witnesses it. Rashad wasn't trying to steal that bag of chips, but Officer Paul Galuzzo beats him to a pulp rather than hear him out. Quinn doesn't know that, but he does know that no one should be treated the way he sees family friend and surrogate father Paul whaling on that black kid. Day by day over the next week, each boy tells his story, Rashad in the hospital, where he watches endless replays of the incident, and Quinn at school, where he tries to avoid it. Soon Rashad's a trending hashtag, as his brother and friends organize a protest he's not sure he wants. Meanwhile, Quinn negotiates basketball practice with his best friendGaluzzo's little brother, who expects loyaltyand Rashad's, who tells him bluntly, "White boy like you can just walk away whenever you want." In a series of set pieces, Rashad contemplates his unwanted role as the latest statistic, and Quinn decides whether he'll walk away or stand. Reynolds and Kiely supply their protagonists with a supporting cast that prods them in all the right ways; Rashad's strict, ex-cop dad provides unexpected complexity. If the hands and agenda of the authors are evident, their passion elevates the novel beyond a needed call to action to a deeply moving experience. (Fiction. 12-18) Copyright Kirkus Reviews, used with permission.

*Starred Review* Two teenage boys, one black (Rashad) and one white (Quinn), are inextricably linked when Quinn witnesses Rashad being savagely beaten with little or no provocation by a policeman who has served as Quinn's de facto big brother since his father was killed in Afghanistan and whose younger brother is one of Quinn's best friends. Can Quinn simply walk away from this apparent atrocity and pretend he hasn't seen what he has seen? And what of Rashad? Hospitalized with internal bleeding, all he wants is to be left alone so he can focus on his art. The challenge for both boys becomes more intense when the case becomes a cause célèbre dividing first their school and then the entire community. The basketball team becomes a microcosm of split loyalties and angry disputes that come to a head when a protest march powerfully demonstrates the importance of action in the face of injustice. With Reynolds writing Rashad's first-person narrative and Kiely writing Quinn's, this hard-edged, ripped-from-the-headlines book is more than a problem novel; it's a carefully plotted, psychologically acute, character-driven work of fiction that dramatizes an all-too-frequent occurrence. Police brutality and race relations in America are issues that demand debate and discussion, which this superb book powerfully enables.--Cart, Michael Copyright 2015 Booklist