Does My Head Look Big In This?- Randa Abdel-Fattah

There is a scrappy little girl who you know and love. Perhaps she is your little sister, your cousin, or the neighborhood kid you used to babysit. She’s feisty, opinionated, and principled, but perhaps a little defensive in the face of criticism. Sound familiar? You’ll see her literary twin in the heroine of Does My Head Look Big in This?, Amal Mohamed Nasrullah Abdel-Hakim (“You can thank my father, paternal grandfather, and paternal great-grandfather for that one. The teachers labeled me slow in preschool because I was the last child to learn how to spell her name.”).

Amal is a second-generation Palestinian Australian Muslim who has just made the decision to wear hijab on a full-time basis. Immediately, she learns that she is doing more than defending her personal beliefs—she becomes spokesperson for Islam at her elite private school. Those who have found themselves in that uncomfortable position will appreciate Amal’s story.

The writing style makes this book seem like a guilty pleasure—it’s sweet, chatty, and engaging. Amal’s tone seems immature for an 11th grader, but it's highly readable. The story has its predictable elements: Amal’s underestimation of her classmates’ acceptance, her friend’s victory over body and esteem issues, the inevitable crush trajectory. But there were also unexpected plot developments and dimensions in characters, giving this book substance that I would not expect in average teen chick-lit.

The issue with Amal being a spokesperson, obviously, is that it’s an easy way to spell out a lot of things about religion and culture for the reader. The critique of popular images of Islam, particularly following the Bali bombings and the one-year anniversary of 9/11, is—pardon the expression—thinly veiled. It’s no coincidence that Entertainment Weekly called this book “a fascinating look at Islam” when the story is really about one girl’s spiritual journey.

I am, however, recommending that all my friends get this book for the young female readers in their lives. It's validating for kids who have had to defend or explain their religious beliefs. It's identifiable for young hijabis. But more fundamentally, it treats diversity as a norm. In the world of young adult literature, this is revolutionary. It is not a big deal that Amal’s friends come from different backgrounds—everyone is struggling with their own personal issues, and only some of them cultural.

Even more notable, there are no two Muslim families alike in Amal’s social circle. There arranged and love marriages, converts and “cultural Muslims,” assimilationists and conservatives, all Muslims and all trying to raise their second-generation kids in the best way they know how. While Amal might be the face of Islam at her school, the reader quickly learns that no one person can represent the Muslim community. I have been waiting for a book like this to come along-- alf shukr, Ms. Abdel-Fattah.