“When somebody has got what Willie here has got, they just know where they’re going and there’s just no point in trying to stop them.” Willie, seven years old, can’t stop dreaming of the day he will dance on Broadway. Emma, his older sister, is determined that someday she will address a courtroom. Is there something wrong with them? Or is there something wrong with their parents, whose dreams for their children have little to do with what the children want? When Emma sets out to find a way to convince her parents to let her live her life her way, she doesn’t care what happens to Willie. But she soon learns that all kids need a voice, and she may be able to find a way to help them get one.
Louise Perkins Fitzhugh was an American writer and illustrator of children's books. Fitzhugh is best known for her 1964 novel Harriet the Spy, a fiction work about an adolescent girl's predisposition with a journal covering the foibles of her friends, her classmates, and the strangers she is captivated by. The novel was later adapted into a live action film in 1996. The sequel novel, The Long Secret, was published in 1965, and its follow-up book, Sport, was published posthumously in 1979. Fitzhugh also wrote Nobody's Family Is Going to Change, which was later adapted into a short film and a play.
4 and 1/2 stars (Not 5 only because I can't bear to give it as many stars as I did "Harriet the Spy")
I can't count how many times I read Fitzhugh's "Harriet the Spy" when I was a child and yet I didn't come across any of her other books then. I'd never heard of this one until I deciphered the clues in Lemony Snicket's Who Could That Be At This Hour? and it's no wonder Lemony loved this book -- it even has a secret organization integral to the plot.
Books like these were filed under Y (for Youth), not J (for Juvenile), at my local library when I was a kid. I'm not sure when the YA label came into existence, but this would fall under that category. Perhaps the YA label is more recent, but anyone who thinks the YA genre was invented fairly recently, need only look to the "Y" novels of the early 1970s, where there was no 'political correctness,' with a smattering of words that kids knew and said no matter what their parents thought. And if these kids weren't familiar with the topics, if they were sheltered, as I was to a certain extent, their themes prepared me for a wider world that I encountered as soon as I got just a little bit older. This book would've fallen into that category for me if I'd encountered it at the 'right' time, and one I remember that did do that was Kerr's Dinky Hocker Shoots Smack! (which came out just a few years before this one) with its drug references (but no drug use). I remember being nervous about carrying it around because of its title, but I worried for nothing. I don't think my parents had a clue at the time as to what it meant, as neither did I before reading it.
This novel encompasses such a lot in such a relatively short amount of pages, it's amazing, and Fitzhugh does it with sympathy and humor. The dialogue among the family members had me chuckling and almost crying, sometimes within the space of a few paragraphs. One can only feel how strong the main character (an 11-year-old girl) has to be and will be beyond the pages of this story. Perhaps the gender issues aren't exactly the same now as when the novel was written, but how to cope when one feels a parent doesn't accept who you are--and never will--is.
If she had just written 'Harriet the Spy' before her untimely death, Louise Fitzhugh would have been an important figure in children's literature. Her other three books, although lesser known, are in many ways more groundbreaking, and certainly as well-written. In 'Nobody's Family is Going to Change,' she fearlessly tackles the touchy issue of a white writing about blacks. And she does this while standing stereotype on its head. Her African-Americans are an upper-class, Upper East Side family, whose domineering lawyer father bridles at his seven-year-old son's desire to be a dancer. With this radical reinvention of the conventional narrative, the story becomes about so much more than race, without ignoring or sugar-coating race and racism. It's really a coming-of-age tale about Emma (Emancipation Sheridan!), its delightful eleven-year-old protagonist, brilliant and witty as well as insecure and a compulsive eater. Fitzhugh never fails to twist her plots so that the reader is always surprised by events that still manage to fit in organically and seamlessly. One example: a 'Children's Army' founded on the estimable principle that all decisions should be based on whether they are good for children, turns out to be quite different than expected. It's a book that made me laugh, cry, learn and think. Highly recommended.
Much as I love Harriet the Spy and her friends, this book by Louise Fitzhugh remains my favorite. When I first read it as a child, I couldn't believe that a writer had managed to capture my own father's narcissism, ambition, and self-pity so accurately in a fictional character– especially given the racial difference. To learn that a child could resist and even overcome parental neglect in its middle-class form gave me comfort and inspiration then; the book's message still inspires me now.
Fitzhugh takes on the self-loathing of the pre-adolescent like no other in this memorable book about a pair of black, middle-class siblings bursting out of their shells. Even if you don't notice it like you can't help but in Harriet the Spy, she is very, very funny - I loved all the bits about the children's rights movement, especially the part where Emma confronts the leader towards the end. Sure, this was a little more didactic than you expect from Louise Fitzhugh - but I'd still argue quite a bit of fun, so who cares.
This book was first published in 1974, according to the copyright info in the copy I have, and it is showing its age a bit, but the message is still a relevant one for upper grade kids: you can change yourself and how you react to other people and situations, but you probably can't change other people so much. I enjoyed it - enough to start and finish it in one day - unusual for me.
it would be completely impossible for me to rate this, insane book to exist, but my god can louise write a funny little sentence. a middle grade abt psychologically emancipating urself as a child from your parents???? modern publishing weeps
Wonderful. Imo, much more interesting than Harriet the Spy. I love the insights of all the characters, and the way attitudes *are* changed, at least a bit, by some of the adults. I love, for example, that 'sissy' and an even worse word are applied to young Willy, but finally someone realizes that even if he does turn out to be gay does not mean he's less of a man, or of less value as a person.
Mother does learn to speak up to father. Father has a chance to explain exactly why he's such a chauvinist, and to begin to feel pricks in his armor. Most importantly, the children, *all* the children, learn to be themselves, and to protect themselves, and to make friends who can help.
It's not a happily ever after, though, understand. No magic wand. It's concrete hope that hard work will pay off.
"Children come first.... we believe that if every decision made on this earth were first put to the test of one question,' is this good for children?' and the decision makers were forced to make decisions that would be good for children, there would only be good decisions made."
I also love the bits of humor and joy, for example the ones that Uncle Dipsey shares. And the details, like the fact that this family has a white maid. And the portraits of the five family members drawn by the author. And the fact that it doesn't shy away from a bit of mature language.
Highly recommended, even though you're likely to need to use ILL to read it.
I ran across this at Powell's a while back and picked it up at once; I'd never heard of it before, but of course I love Fitzhugh's other children's books (most notably the classic Harriet the Spy).
This one is about Emma, who wants to become a lawyer, and her little brother Willie, who wants to be a dancer, and their struggle to realize their dreams in spite of the opposition from their parents, who feel that boys shouldn't be dancers and girls shouldn't be lawyers. The book felt a little preachy and didn't speak to me as viscerally as Harriet always has, but it's still an interesting look at different kinds of discrimination and how they can affect children as well as adults.
Willie is seven and wants to be a dancer. His sister, Emma, is eleven and she wants to be a lawyer. But the parents of Emma and Willie don't like the children's dreams and they are doing everything they can to force the children to do what the parents want them to do.
How can the children proceed?
Emma tries to research children's rights and soon learns they have none. Then she joins a group that advocates for children but that turns out to be a dead end, too.
Finally Emma comes to a realization that if her family isn't going to change then she must be the one who changes.
A thoughtful book, originally published in 1974, in which children grapple with difficult problems and come to figure out a good way to address them.
I didn't discover this book until I was an adult, when I heard about it on "This American Life" episode #166. I wish I had read it as a child, as it would have been a tremendous revelation to me then, but even as an adult I found it has become a touchstone. It addresses some very adult themes - including child battery and abuse - in an innovative way.
The title might sound negative, but it imparts an ultimately hopeful, though definitely not sugar-coated, object lesson: You don't need to wait until another person's opinion changes to change your own life, especially your inner life. And even when you currently have little control over your circumstances, changing your inner life has an impact.
First, I nearly stopped reading when the main character, 11-year-old Emma called her 7-year-old brother Willie "faggot" on the second page. Second, this is the only Young Adult / Juvenile book I've shelved on my (otherwise nonfiction) Living Better shelf. Valuable life lessons here. Wish I'd read this book back in grade school! Third, I didn't think about this until after I finished the book, but despite their lack of acceptance of their children's dreams, parents who name their daughter Emancipation can't be all bad. Finally, the major lesson of the story? Nobody's family is going to change. You be you. "Emancipate yourself from mental slavery." -- Bob Marley
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
Omg this book killed me. It can be difficult at times putting the book into the context of the time it was written, when a white author wouldn't think twice about using the n-word in a book she was writing about black people as long as she felt it was in context, or how a sister would casually call her 7 year old brother a faggot, and how gender roles were back then.
Disregarding all that and focusing on the intention of the book it is something to marvel at. The main character Emma has to deal with being black and a girl, being marginalized in the world, by an organization that's trying to bring change, and by her own family. She sees the hypocrisy of the children's group she joins, like any other group it's run by men with violence as an option. They're indifferent to the voices of women and people of color. While Emma focuses on her feminist principles she's going to discover that the movement is dominated by white voices.
Also, she has to come to a realization that I didn't even really make until my 40's. Her parents are not going to change, she can only change herself. She can't make them value her, support her in her interests and pursuits, or even understand her. She can only change herself. I can't make my parents give a shit about me, but I can stop caring what they think.
Considering Louise Fitzhugh was almost certainly a lesbian, it's difficult reading the familiar attitudes at the time about homosexuality and gender in this book and I feel like, even at the time, she could have done better.
This is still a complex and interesting book, though, that I wish I had read at eleven.
Originally published in 1974, Nobody’s Family Is Going to Change is a punchy, middle-grade novel about 11-year old Emancipation “Emma” Sheridan, who fantasizes about becoming a lawyer, and her 7-year-old brother Willie*, who dreams of becoming a dancer on Broadway. Emma’s father, a lawyer himself, balks at the idea of women lawyers and effeminate male dancers. This is a bold, empowering story about children’s rights—particularly the way children are at the mercy of their parents’ desires, expectations, and prejudices—and the importance of people advocating for their own wellbeing. While this novel was written for children, even adults will find sophistication in its brutally honest social commentary, especially in regard to gender roles. It’s dark, raw, humorous, and sometimes profane. An excellent book for parents and mature children to read and discuss.
*I do want to acknowledge that while the protagonists of this novel are Black kids, the author, Louise Fitzhugh, is a white woman. We live in this remarkable era of #OwnVoices and #WeNeedDiverseBooks, and there’s a lot of discussion about who should tell what stories. Let’s keep that conversation going.
My feelings are a bit torn about this book. Published in 1974, it is full of what were then traditional gender roles (father as the breadwinner and disciplinarian; mother as subservient, keeper of the peace, supporter of father), and prejudices (boys can't be dancers unless they're homosexual; girls can't be lawyers because, well, that's a man's job). Parents dictate to the children, instead of listening to them and considering their feelings. The conclusion drawn is that one can't change the parents' attitudes, but one can only change oneself and how one reacts to them. Of course, in this story, a seven- and an eleven-year-old have little power to influence their parents; they can only influence themselves. I think things have changed quite a bit in many parent/child relationships since 1974, so that feels a bit outdated to me. And the concept of a Children's Army, to act as vigilantes, may be an interesting concept, but was still limited by it's prejudices. I was terrifically off-put by the use of what would now be considered offensive language (although I found it offensive in 1974) in reference to African-Americans, Caucasians, homosexuals, and people with abundant bodies. (In fact, I'm not sure why it was important to Fitzhugh that the daughter be of a certain size as it didn't seem to lend to the story.) So be aware.
This is one weird YA book...is this even for children? I heard about this book on 'This American Life,' and it's definitely not your run-of-the-mill kids' story. And while it's a premise I wholeheartedly embrace -- a brother and sister realize early on that they cannot change who their parents are and how they think, so they must accept this and move on with their own damn lives -- the writing didn't do anything for me. I wanted to finish to find out what happened to the siblings (there's a weird subplot about a Children's Army that eventually goes nowhere), but I wasn't sad when it was over.
look this book is a million times better than this american life. not that i don't like this american life but isn't always so depressing when you have found this amazing thing at a thrift store for 50 cents and loved it and cherished it, and told all your friends about it, only to have this american life tell the whole world about it? okay, whatever. reading this book is probably worth 2 years of family therapy.
Oh my goodness. This is so much. It just gets better as it progresses (multiple times I found myself thinking, "Is this really happening?") and there are no false steps. Every character is three-dimensional and flawed and they all make unexpected choices. It is raw and gritty but I think I want my eleven-year-old sister to read it anyway. All children (even grown ones) should read this. [August 30, 2015]
Deeply affecting. Aimed at middle school kids, the secret to family (and really all) relationships is revealed: You can't change anyone but yourself. This is an intense idea, that has take me lots of years to accept. This book does not sugarcoat how hard it is to deal in the meantime.
Also of note: 1) It is super queer. Not explicitly per se, but just, so gay. 2) I had a lot of trouble with a white woman writing a Black family.
Phenomenal! This YA novel tells a story about two siblings growing up in NYC - a girl who wants to be a lawyer and a boy who wants to be a dancer - and their parents, who think boys should be lawyers and girls should be housewives. The characters completely draw you in, and the book comes to a poignant conclusion that manages to be both grim and full of hope. LOVED it.
4.75 This book drew me in with the dance in its first sentence, and it kept my attention trough settings and characters that really spoke to me. This is a family situation that I'm not familiar with, but Louise Fitzhugh has written it in such a way and created such relatable characters that I found it easy to put myself in their shoes.
This book can be described as a feminist theory primer for middle schoolers. It was fine but I didn't really like the plot. I did like this message: In the end, the main character realizes that you cannot change how other people act, you can only change yourself.
4.5 stars!! A couple months ago I read a biography of Louise Fitzhugh (nonconformist lesbian artist author of Harriet the Spy) and learned about this book of hers. I would just put a word of warning here that readers need to remember the time it was written (early 70s) — kids using the n-word, calling a seven year old boy who dances a “faggot”, talk of kids getting physically and sexually abused with no serious consequences, etc.
Emma (Emancipation Sheridan) is 11 and her brother Willie is 7. In her words to her mother, “Willie wants to do a girl’s thing, and I want to do a boy’s thing, and our father hates both of us.” Some quotes I think sum up the book: “the unfairness of being a child, the blindness of parents” “I’ll tell you something, Willie, don’t nobody ever hand you a dream. You’ve got to fight for a dream, and you’ve got to keep on fighting way after you have any strength. You got to get more strength, and pick yourself up again, and you got to go on.” “I think that whatever a person is, that’s what he is, and a person wants to be the way he is.” “What’s wrong is trying to change them. They are not going to change. But I can change. I can change myself.”
It would’ve made for a harsh, almost bleak read had it not been peppered with humor in the snarky voice (and lawyer daydreams) of Emma, who I grew to love, and the spirited pluck and bravery of Willie, who only wants to dance. Fitzhugh nails that self-hatred of an eleven year old, and it stings a bit just to read it. What a time. She’s looking at her parents in a different light, learning with a bit of fear that they are just (very flawed) people (like… her dad is awful), she sees misogyny is everywhere from the controller of her life—her father—even down to the Children’s Army… girls are always looked down on. She sees how she is treated differently because of her race. But she learns the crux of the book, that she can only change herself and her own mind and her own decisions. I love that. She can’t make someone love her. She can’t make them be proud or accept her. “That,” said Emma, “is your problem, not mine.”
My very favorite scene was with all four family members with poor Willie “taking the stand” against his imposing, controlling, domineering father and then Emma realizing, “Here was a prosecutor in the form of her father, here was a suspected criminal in Willie, here was even a judge in the shape of her mother, but where was the defense lawyer? Willie had no one defending him!” From there she goes straight into lawyer mode, snapping back to her dad, “Objection! The District Attorney is leading the witness!” etc. I LOVED IT. Go Emma!!!!!!!
And, of course, in case anyone was wondering what I’ve typed Emma on the enneagram!! I believe she is a Type 5, the Investigator. Exhibit A: “She felt profoundly irritated that these people had thought of something she hadn’t. Not that it seemed like a bad idea—still, one had to be sure, and one could only be sure by thinking everything out carefully.” Exhibit B: “Emma decided to find out a few things she wanted to know, instead of being told things like a dummy.” Exhibit C: “I don’t have enough information, she thought suddenly. I better find out what I’m talking about before I bring this thing up. She went back to her homework.”
I love the main message here about letting go of the need for approval and trying to change others. It's better to know yourself, love yourself, work hard at who you want to be, and focus on changing your reactions instead of changing those who disapprove, even if those people are the ones who are supposed to know and love you most.
This book is the basis for the musical "The Tap Dance Kid" and a harsher read than I expected. It's 1974, and the main characters in this book are a 7 year old black boy who wants to be a dancer and his 11 year old sister who wants to be a lawyer. They seemed more like 11 and 14 to me, but anyway... Their father is a lawyer who doesn't want his boy to do "girl things" or his girl to do "boy things." Dad sees dance as something black people did because it was one of the few professions where they were welcomed, not because they loved it or it had any real value, and totally below him and his children. He's a sexist who denies his daughter (and himself) the connection over a common interest and love she craves. He tries to deny his son a rare chance at his dreams and himself the joy of seeing his kid do something he truly loves. Mom kind of plays along, more opposed to disagreeing with her husband than anything else. These kids are carrying the heavy load of the parents' troubled childhoods, their expectations and mostly, not being seen or feeling loved for whom they really are at that moment and only for what they may become some day. Things turn out ok, kind of. Mom clearly wants kids who are happy and feel loved. We don't know if dad really comes around, because this is about kids being themselves and doing what interests them regardless.
It's dated in some ways, but in many startling ways it's still relevant. The kids and their friends address abuse, gender identity, race, self-image, an eating disorder, sexuality, and even police shootings involving kids. There is some language here that is totally inappropriate and, in my opinion, unnecessary, but I'd be lying if I said I didn't hear those words more often as a kid in the 70s than I do now.
I think kids always appreciate books that recognize their independence and agency, but I also think this is an important read for parents, especially these days when so many seem to take it as a given that children are a blank slate that will be what they are told to be and believe everything they are told without questioning with no ideas, dreams and experiences of their own. It's a reminder that so many difficult issues are not new, and there is no time we can go back to where they were handled better.
It's Fitzhugh, so there is humor here, but it's not really a feel good book. It did make me think.
It’s an embarrassment this book is out of print. I’ve long loved Harriet the Spy and the Long Secret. This is a less read Fitzhugh, published just after she died in her 40s. Like the Harriet books, this one follows an outsider, well two outsiders. Kids who want futures their parents, mainly their fathers disapproves of. The song wants to be a dancer, like his uncle and maternal grandparents. The daughter wants to be a lawyer, which her father doesn’t think fitting for a woman. Yeah the father is pretty much a d*ckhead. The mother is pretty passive till the end. But Emma and Willie forge their own paths.
What’s distinct about this book vs her other books is that the family is black. Presently a white write would get some flak for writing about black characters. But that’s a debate for elsewhere. It’s much of an improvement that more stories about nonwhite characters are out there, but it’s also true that I’m this case Fitzhugh’s empathy with her characters, especially the kids, Carrie’s the novel and makes it a smash.
Funny, sarcastic, moving, all one expects from the author. I’d contend that the author’s sexuality is at least part of the reason she succeeds here, her empathy with kids and outsiders especially. Dancing is viewed as “sissy” for men according to the father, but of course many straight men of all colors have been dancers. The slur has more to do with the father’s own issues, no doubt, about masculinity and absorbed cultural homophobia. My own father didn’t want me to take piano lessons as a kid because when he was a kid a neighbor who took lessons was called a sissy.
The book pulls no punches, and takes on issues of race, sexuality, parenting, child abuse, social jsitcue and more. Though the book doesn’t state it outright, there’s at least an implication that Willie, Emma, and possibly their uncle are gay. They’re all certainly different and defy social norms of various kinds. The message of the book—that one can’t wait on others to change, change yourself—is spot on.
I now realise I must have read this when it first came out and I was about 12. I remembered nothing about it except that I found it odd, which is damning enough given that my memory for books I read before about 1990 is nearly eidetic. It's another "black family story" written by a white woman of a certain age, and I have to wonder why this was considered a good idea, why Fitzhugh chose a culture not her own and which she had obviously never experienced. Were there no young white boys who wanted to dance/act and whose parents disapproved? Or did Fitzhugh just naturally suppose that tapdancing was the metier of black folks only? (Geh) As for the sister, yes there were plenty of fathers who were jealous of their daughters' intelligence; mine certainly was. He spent an inordinate amount of time "cutting me down to size" by telling me "I can read you like a book" which he obviously could not or he'd have known how I despised him. His other line was "I can tell you everything you know in five minutes!" He had to stop saying that after I learned two other languages besides English, though. The whole Children's Army thing was the only part that made any lasting impression on me, I guess. Would I recommend this to YA readers today? Most definitely not. Not because there's anything "wrong with it", just because it's not very good. I can't even call it "dated"; it's just...weird. The weirdest thing about it is, it apparently became a movie and a play. Somebody must have liked it, I guess. I just wasn't one.
4.7 stars. This book blows my mind - so great! The two main characters, Willie (7) and Emma (11) are siblings in an upper-middle class, Black family. I have no problem with Fitzhugh, a white bisexual woman from the South, telling the story of a Black family living on the upper east side of Manhatten. The universal themes of misogyny, self-hatred, intergenerational conflicts, bullying, racism apply to people of all colors. Fitzhugh depicted the inner psychology of her characters with great empathy and insight. She understood how young kids had a sense of justice, had their own dreams and passions, had very complex emotions. Fitzhugh was one of the very few authors who respected how kids felt and depicted their political dynamics.
Another reader says that this book is a manual on feminism for young girls. This book does much more - it talks about finding your dreams and pursuing your dreams and talents even when those closest to you fail you and actively sabotage you. Your loved ones mean well but they don't understand you. Just stay true to your own dreams and talents and disregard others' baggage.
This novel describes the exhilarating feeling of flow, when you are immersed in and working hard on your talent, how your body and soul take flight.
Lois Fitzhugh pulls no punches. It took me a minute to get into this, but I'm so glad I did. The take on children's rights is powerful and unique, and it's a good story, too. I'm not sure I'd give this to an actual child without some significant caveats. The "f" word that's a slur for gay men is used on the first page, and there's plenty of harsh language about weight, homosexuality, race, and gender. But as a portrait of a particular time and a middle-class black girl trying to make her way forward, it's astounding.
It would be an interesting book to study from the perspective of the various layers of meaning around homosexuality. The father is hostile to anything that might imply that his son is "a sissy," and Emma doesn't seem to quite understand the larger meaning of that. Reading between the lines, I *think* that part of the father's anger is because Uncle Dipsey is gay. I'm sure that Fitzhugh meant exactly what it sounds like when she said that Emma couldn't imagine two [female] characters marrying anyone but each other, and Emma is totally uninterested in heterosexual marriage or reproducing. Fitzhugh, of course, was gay herself.