
With school shootings being a disgustingly regular event in the US, I knew I had to read AfterMath by Emily Barth Isler (Carolrhoda Books, 2021) when I learned about it. It took me a bit – the book was located in another local branch, and I hadn’t been over there since before the pandemic started, but we made our way back there somewhat recently (the last ‘other’ library we had yet to go back to), in order to find a book my daughter wanted, and I grabbed this and a few other books while we were there. It’s a middle grade novel, and a quick read, but it’s worth it.
Lucy’s family has been through a lot recently. Her brother, sick his entire short life, has recently died of the heart defect that ruled the family’s life for five years. Lucy and her parents have moved to a new town, one that was devastated by a mass shooting in the elementary school several years before. The students are still dealing with the fallout: trauma, PTSD, grief over missing their friends and siblings who were killed, and the town has never recovered. Lucy’s also grieving, but she’s not sure how her grief – they always knew her brother’s heart defect was fatal – fits in in this place so consumed by its unexpected trauma.
She doesn’t quite fit in, and befriending Avery, the school outcast whose estranged half-brother was responsible for the school shooting, doesn’t do her any favors. But her math teacher, Mr. Jackson, and the after-school mime club he sets up is her saving grace, and what turns out to be the saving grace of a lot of students who are desperate for an outlet for their pain and confusion.
This is a really heavy book and would probably best be read for sixth grade on up (its reading level is likely lower than that, but there are a lot of heavy subjects in here, a lot of discussion of death, grief, family trauma, who has the right to feel what, etc. While a kid younger than this could handle it, I think sixth through eighth graders will have the appropriate emotional maturity to more clearly understand the depth of this book. Which is really something to say in a country where whole classrooms of first graders are being mowed down. Anyone writing a version of this for the Early Reader set? *sigh*).
Lucy is struggling, and her parents aren’t handling their grief well either. Dad is particularly bad off, vacillating between actually trying and shutting everyone out, and Mom compensates by getting over-involved. Lucy’s shaken; her parents are still able to commute to their same jobs, so everyone else has something stable in her life but her. She was torn from her school and her friends, and now she’s thrown into this new school where kids introduce themselves by how they survived the shooting. It’s a strange new world, and Lucy’s not sure where or how her grief over the loss of her brother fits in in a place like this.
Her math teacher, Mr. Jackson, is an absolute gem of a character. He listens, he notices which students need extra attention, he pushes them just a little outside their comfort zones in order to make them grow. And he’s not afraid to show his emotions. There were a few really well-written scenes in which he witnesses the kids being stressed or traumatized by things like fire drills, and he shows them how sad and angry he is about what they’ve had to go through because of the shooting. Kids need that. I think a lot of us have just accepted that lockdown drills and the like are part of our daily landscape, but this SUCKS. We didn’t have to do this when I was a kid in the 80’s and 90’s. This SHOULDN’T be normal, and we SHOULDN’T have a list of schools longer than my entire street full of kids that have witnessed the murders of their friends and classmates. I’m really, really impressed that Emily Barth Isler was insightful enough to show her readers through a trusted and thoughtful character that none of this is normal, none of this is okay, and all of this is wrong. Kids shouldn’t have to practice what to do if someone comes to murder them, something they actually see and hear about happening on the news constantly here in the US.
Heavy, heavy book, but insightful and well-written. This would be a good read for parents and kids to read together, especially when yet another mass shooting happens and kids ask questions.








