Dana Alison Levy is back with her fourth middle-grade book set in the universe of The Misadventures of the Family Fletcher, her 2014 novel about a two-dad family. This volume centers around one of the Fletchers’ classmates, whose photography project was vandalized with threats and gay slurs, and asks readers to reflect on the assumptions we make about others.
After the incident that damaged seventh-grader Theo’s photographs, a well-meaning teacher gathers him and the five suspects together over school vacation in the hopes of using restorative justice to reach a resolution. The students in the book are less than pleased about spending their vacation week talking about the incident in a process that’s “less about punishment and more about repairing the community,” as Theo explains. Still, it’s better than the alternative, suspension. But even Theo isn’t thrilled with the idea. He thinks he already knows who did it. Still, he’d rather go through the process than have the perpetrator get suspended and hate him. “Five days doesn’t seem like too big a price to pay not to be the seventh-grade equivalent of chum in the shark-infested water,” he reflects.
Levy smartly avoids simple solutions and platitudes about bullying as she leads her characters (and readers) through the mystery of figuring out who the perpetrator was—and when they do, what they want to do about it, given what their five days together have revealed about each other. The book raises thoughtful questions about friendship, difference, and how well we really know people, all within a hysterically funny narrative. (The first chapter is titled, “Let Us Consider Gnawing Off Our Limbs and Escaping.”)
The suspects (including Jax, one of the Fletchers’ sons) are each from a different place on the ”school food chain”: The Over-achiever, the Jock, the Nerd, the Weirdo, and the Screwup, as Theo (“the Victim”) dubs them. Yet “Victim” is a new label for Theo. This incident aside, he hasn’t been the target of bullying. He explains, “I wasn’t cool, or popular, but I had a few other loner types to sit with at lunch…. I fit in comfortably enough…. And while I wasn’t surrounded by friends, I also wasn’t one of those super-vulnerable kids who seem to get a nonstop stream of what I call mosquito-level bullying.” That makes him in many ways a more interesting foil to the suspects. He sees himself as a social equal to the others, even though they move in different circles. He’s baffled that the incident happened, and wants it resolved so he can move on with his life.
He’s also never labeled as either queer or straight, although he mentions that he’s been the target of homophobic name-calling in addition to having anti-gay slurs written on his photos. Some might see this as a missed opportunity for an explicitly queer character, but I see it as a way for more readers to see themselves in Theo’s position, and to see how homophobia can cause harm regardless of the target’s actual sexuality.
Comparisons to The Breakfast Club are obvious, and Levy even cites the classic 1985 film as an inspiration, but her book is far from a mere imitation. The use of a “justice circle” feels in line with contemporary interest in restorative justice. And Levy also weaves in issues of homophobia and racism in ways that reflect our society’s current grappling with those topics. (Two of the students are Black; three are White, and one has an Asian-sounding last name.) She is a skillful enough writer, though, to avoid pedantry as she touches on these issues. She even asserts in an Author’s Note that “While It Wasn’t Me isn’t a book about restorative justice, the justice circle that Ms. Lewiston leads is very much influenced by it.” While readers should come away with an understanding of what restorative justice is, that’s not the main point. Instead, it’s that our assumptions about others are often misguided, and if we take the time to get to know their stories, we just might break down some barriers and find unexpected friendships.
It Wasn’t Me doesn’t focus on a same-sex parented family like Levy’s other three books, although it mentions Jax’s dads and focuses on incidents of homophobia. Still, the book feels like an important one for all homes, schools, and libraries looking to address homophobia, racism, and other forms of bias, for it gets at one of the roots of such ills. As Levy explains in her Author’s Note, “One of the biggest challenges for teens and tweens is the feeling of being judged, of being only whatever your teachers or classmates see on the outside…. Whether we like the image we’re showing the world or hate it really doesn’t matter either. Because none of us are only one thing. All of us are more than meets the eye.” This entertaining yet thoughtful novel tells the story of one group of kids learning that lesson. It deserves a place on many shelves so that others may learn it with them.