Then there was his brother’s childhood friend, Lolly’s neighbor, who gave Lolly a book on NYC architecture – who inspired Lolly to build new things instead of just following the LEGO instructions. There was his brother’s best friend, who was to look after Lolly but was still in a crew. There was his actual older brother, who was murdered due to gang-related violence. I also really liked that he had two (well three) older brother figures to show him what life could have been like. I love that he got to exercise his unknown creativity through LEGOs – such a kid thing to do. Amazing.īut I really enjoyed reading Lolly’s transformation – from an angry young man to someone ready to take on the world, no matter the obstacles. I also loved how there was such a sly mention of LGBTQ acceptance in the book – Lolly’s parents broke up because his mom realized she was a lesbian. I love how realistic and true his story was – mainly because the author had lived in Harlem and worked in a community center. While the beginning is a bit slow, Lolly’s story is rather captivating. Thankfully, building his LEGO city at his community center after school helps create an escape – and inspires him to have bigger dreams for his future. The thing is, living in Harlem means that you need to join a crew in order to stay safe from muggings – but Lolly doesn’t want to end up like his brother.
Luckily, he has his LEGOs to distract him – and his mom’s girlfriend keeps bringing him more and more. He’s just lost his brother in a gang-related murder, and he’s struggling to move on.
In “The Stars Beneath Our Feet,” we meet 12-year-old Lolly from the Harlem St. Anyway, “The Stars Beneath Our Feet” reminds me of the stories my dad used to tell me about the neighborhood, which is why I really enjoyed reading it.
Needless to say, I didn’t step foot in Harlem until a few years ago, when it seemed like all my college friends moved to the neighborhood. My dad, who used to drive the late night Harlem MTA bus route when I was growing up, used to come home with horror stories of what happened on the bus that night. Growing up in NYC, there were several neighborhoods you were supposed to avoid – Harlem was one of them.
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