Is Locomotion A Good Novel For Middle Schoolers?

If you’d asked 12-year-old me whether a book written in poems could be gripping, I’d have scoffed—until 'Locomotion' proved me wrong. What hooked me wasn’t just the format but how Lonnie’s voice felt like a friend whispering secrets. His humor sneaks up on you ('Ms. Marcus says / my imagination’s like a wild train / I tell her, Nah / it’s like a wild dinosaur'), and his struggles with identity—being the 'Black Boy poet' in class—hit close to home. Middle school’s all about figuring out who you are, and Lonnie’s honesty made me feel less alone.

The foster care backdrop might be new terrain for some readers, but that’s why it’s valuable. It doesn’t preach; it just lets you live in Lonnie’s shoes. And the ending? No tidy bows, just quiet hope—perfect for kids tired of fairy-tale fixes. Still on my shelf, dog-eared from rereads.

From a teacher’s perspective (though I won’t say which grade I handle), 'Locomotion' is a gem for classroom discussions. The free verse structure surprises students at first—many expect novels to be wall-to-wall prose—but it becomes a gateway to talking about how form reflects emotion. Lonnie’s fragmented thoughts mirror his turbulence, and kids pick up on that intuitively. I’ve seen quiet students light up when analyzing lines like 'Some days / the missing / is a train.' It’s short enough to keep attention spans engaged but deep enough for meaningful debates about resilience.

One thing I appreciate is how it normalizes writing as therapy. Lonnie’s poetry assignments show creativity as an outlet, which resonates with kids drowning in standardized tests. The family dynamics—loss, foster care, sibling love—also spark empathy. Some parents worry it’s 'too sad,' but the tenderness in Lonnie’s relationships balances the pain. Pair it with a contemporary like 'the crossover' for a verse-novel unit, and watch even the sporty kids get invested in poetry.

I stumbled upon 'Locomotion' by Jacqueline Woodson when I was helping my younger cousin pick books for her summer reading list. At first glance, the verse format made me wonder if it’d be too abstract for middle schoolers, but after reading it myself, I was blown away by how accessible and emotionally resonant it is. The protagonist Lonnie’s voice feels so real—raw but poetic, dealing with loss, foster care, and finding his place in the world. The sparse language actually works in its favor; it leaves room for young readers to reflect without feeling overwhelmed.

What really stood out was how Woodson tackles heavy themes with gentle honesty. Lonnie’s grief isn’t sugarcoated, but the story balances sadness with hope, like his bond with his little sister Lili. Middle schoolers navigating their own big emotions—whether family changes or identity questions—might see themselves in Lonnie’s journey. Plus, the rhythmic style could hook reluctant readers who shy away from dense paragraphs. It’s a book that trusts kids to handle complexity, and that’s something I’d recommend without hesitation.