Written from within a community of friends, in a voice that often uses "we," lilting, intimate-feeling lines by Woodson (The Year We Learned to Fly) capture a delicious sense of autonomy and possibility shared "In Brooklyn/ in the summer/ not so long ago," when "the minute/ school ended, us kids were free as air." Pencil and digital art centers blue skies and city landscapes as Espinosa (The Creature of Habit) draws children of varying ages and skin tones bursting from the doors of a school, with 1970s clothing details that are right on the mark. In the hot days that follow, the kids crowd sidewalks and stoops, open hydrants, and play street games with chalk and bottle caps. They also engage in camaraderie and community care, comforting each other after scrapes, noticing each other's gifts ("We said, You sure can draw... and we meant it"), and sharing an ice cream truck's bounty, "because some days the ones with no money/ were us." And in this Brooklyn nabe, the kids dream big, because "anything was possible/ when a guy from our block was good enough/ to play for the Mets." Affirming the strengths of shared experiences and power drawn from collective appreciation, the creators show how a childhood can engender joy that follows "everywhere I'd ever go." Ages 5--8. Author's agent: Dorian Karchmar, WME. (May)

This lyrical paean to unstructured play does not wax nostalgic or hark back to a simpler time. Rather, Woodson sets out to capture (and brilliantly succeeds in it) a feeling and a moment. She starts off, "In Brooklyn / in the summer / not so long ago," and tells readers that "the minute / school ended, us kids were as free as air. / Free as sun. Free as summer." While their grownups are busy inside the apartment buildings above, the neighborhood kids spend the long, hot days playing on the city streets. Open hydrants are converted into super squirters, games are invented and mastered, conflicts are collectively resolved, and scraped knees tended. It's a time of endless possibility. "Our block was the whole wide world / and the world belonged to us," at least until their mothers call them home for dinner. Espinosa's kinetic pen-and-ink and watercolor art captures a cadre of kids in perpetual motion -- biking, jumping rope, building forts, shooting bottle caps, playing stickball -- and conveys unbridled joy and mutual respect and admiration. This book reminds readers that the benefits of free play, independence, and being excited about what each day may hold can extend beyond a Brooklyn block one summer to a lifetime of creative possibility. Simultaneously published in Spanish as El mundo era nuestro, translated by Yanitzia Canetti. Luann Toth July/August 2022 p.106(c) Copyright 2022. The Horn Book, Inc., a wholly owned subsidiary of Media Source, Inc. No redistribution permitted.

Kids burst out of school and into summer vacation. Now they can play outside all day till the streetlights come on, when moms call them home. This nostalgic homage to Woodson's childhood in her beloved Brooklyn evokes the senses: the sounds of laughter and double Dutch rhymes, the sight of sidewalk chalk and bottle cap games, and the taste of an ice cream cone with rainbow sprinkles from the ice cream truck. The refrain, "In Brooklyn / in the summer / not so long ago," appears in text the color of summer heat: red, orange, yellow. The bell-bottom plaid pants; white, knee-high, color-ringed tube socks; and loud-and-proud Afros pinpoint this story's '60s or '70s setting. The amazing diversity of the neighborhood comes through both in Espinosa's lively, colorful retro illustrations, which depict Black, brown, and White children, and Woodson's lyrical text, which describes kids calling "out to each other / in Spanish / in English / in Polish / in German / in Chinese." They also get along well, with the older kids looking out for the younger ones and those with ice cream money sharing with those without "because some days the ones with no money / were us." Espinosa depicts many characters with mouths wide open, emphasizing their unbridled delight and loudness. Author and illustrator offer a refreshing reminder of a pre-internet time when full-immersion play was the summer activity and kids took full advantage. (This book was reviewed digitally.) A dream team of talent show and tell a delightful story of summers gone by. (Picture book. 4-8) Copyright (c) Kirkus Reviews, used with permission.

In this joyful and nostalgic celebration of young Black girlhood, multi-award-winning author Woodson remembers fondly how, not so long ago in Brooklyn, when school ended for the summer, the neighborhood kids headed outdoors to play, "free as air, free as sun." Moms might shout, "Don't get your school clothes wet!" but kids still ran through the fire hydrants, shooting water at each other. Wet hair would spring back into natural coils, because "even hair had the right to be free!" Every day, all summer long, kids played in the street--drawing chalk games on the sidewalk, building forts out of boxes, spinning tops, and skipping rope. Jumping, running, or playing, they felt the whole world belonged to them, and anything seemed possible: their friends could grow up to be ball players, singers, writers, or anything. Voices call out in Spanish, English, Polish, and other languages as they play until the streetlights come on. Brightly colored illustrations jam-packed with joyful details fill every page in this positive endorsement of unstructured play. At the end, readers can join in dreaming along with the child who now sits on her front stoop, excited about the many tomorrows to come--not just in Brooklyn, not just for the summer, but everywhere and always.