Into the Light

By Joy McCullough

It’s a sad reality that too many children fall through the cracks of an inept U.S. foster care system, and statistic after statistic show this is especially true for queer teens of color. Recent political winds have pushed LGBTQIA+ issues to the forefront of cultural discussions, but rarely does the discussion include the perspectives of queer young people living in a society that seems all too ready to pretend they don’t exist, or worse, attempts to reshape their identities to appease people who have never had their best interests at heart. Informed by their own experiences as a homeless queer Latinx youth, Oshiro blazes through the demeaning rhetoric with a searingly honest portrayal of seventeen-year-old Manny, who’s had to make his own rules negotiating a world that has left him unsupported and alone.

Manny is a seasoned hitchhiker with strict rules—he never tells the people he rides with the truth about himself or his circumstances, he doesn’t get attached to anybody, and he always follows his instincts when it’s time to move on. Encounters with creepy truck drivers and too many prying questions have made Manny smart enough to know that anyone who helps him usually wants something in return. He’s understandably taken aback, then, when the Varela family, consisting of a mother, a father, and their son Carlos, offer him an unusual kindness coming from a true place of empathy. Unfortunately, Manny’s complicated and tragic past comes back to haunt him when he sees a news segment about a body found at Idyllwild—near a hidden base for Christ’s Dominion, the Christian group that Manny was once a part of and that is run by a white Deacon that only takes in queer-leaning kids of color. More than anything, he wants to reunite with the sister who chose Christ’s Dominion over him, but will Elena want Manny in her life if he tries to come to her rescue?

Manny’s voice is blunt and concise, switching quickly from scene to scene in a kaleidoscope of memories and experiences through short, punchy sentence fragments that are beautifully strung together. The achronological nature of the narrative is particularly compelling as readers learn about Manny’s past in the foster care system, the events that led him to join Christ’s Dominion, and the development of a friendship-turned-romantic-relationship with Carlos. An element of mystery is introduced in the occasional perspective of a boy in Idyllwild named Eli who seemingly has much in common with Manny, including his sister—and even savvy readers could never guess the reason for Eli’s inclusion until Oshiro chooses to reveal it. Each of these elements contributes to a controlled tension that winds through each scene, culminating in the book’s final showdown with the people who took Manny’s sister from him.

The dynamics in Christ’s Dominion are truly haunting, with the realistic and terrifying cult-like behavior of white parents adopting Black and brown kids to indoctrinate them into their colorblind, white Christian virtues in the name of God. Manny’s experience there makes his philosophy of not letting people see his vulnerability heartbreakingly correct. Thus, when he realizes he can get assistance from the right people in the Varelas—not white adults with a Christian nationalist agenda who claim to want to help—it is groundbreaking to Manny, who is shocked (and admittedly suspicious) by their willingness to go to bat for him, taking on government officials and breaking the rules where needed to support him.

While much of the terror and heartbreak of Manny’s story comes from his poignant narration, there is the underlying fact that the circumstances that trapped Manny at the whims of a religious cult are not fictional—queer teens of color live this experience currently, and many are just a few steps away from homelessness due to the same systems that failed Manny. The Varelas’ focus on rescuing kids who were victimized by leadership at corrupt places of worship is a noble one, and they offer a much-needed thread of hope in a narrative that conveys such heavy topics. Oshiro makes it clear, however, that a just, caring world wouldn’t need individual families to step up—entire communities would be supporting these kids, and society would be better for it.

—Natalie Berglind, Reviewer

Cover illustration from Into the Light. Text copyright © 2023 by Mark Oshiro. Cover image copyright © 2023 Carolina Rodríguez Fuenmayor. Reproduced by permission of the publisher, Tor Publishing Group.