Edwidge Danticat, Watch Out for Falling Iguanas (Black Sheep, 2025); 32 pages; ISBN 978-1636142326 (hardcover)
Edwidge Danticat, Watch Out for Falling Iguanas (Black Sheep, 2025); 32 pages; ISBN 978-1636142326 (hardcover)
Edwidge Danticat is known for her panoptic explorations of Haitian identity, diasporic belonging, and intergenerational memory. With her fourth children’s book, Watch Out for Falling Iguanas, published in July 2025 and illustrated by the Jamaican artist Rachel Moss, Danticat extends her literary repertoire once again to young readers. The eye-catching title with reference to falling iguanas piques curiosity. Yet behind this playful surface is a story grounded in environmental education and intergenerational wisdom.
Set in Miami, Florida, a city with a significant Haitian diaspora, the story centers on Leila, a young Haitian American girl whose Haitian grandmother, Grandma Issa, issues an unusual warning as Leila and her parents prepare to leave for school and work: “Watch out for falling iguanas.”1 Leila and her mother are perplexed. What could grandmother possibly mean? Leila’s mother begins to interpret Grandma Issa’s statement as they pass chickens, dogs, and common cats on the way to school. Could she have meant one of the different animals they saw on the roadside? But Leila insists her grandmother said iguanas.
As Leila quietly reflects on her grandmother’s words, she is startled to see them manifest: an iguana falls from a tree as she arrives at school. This unexpected event opens the door to both personal discovery and collective amazement among her classmates, sparking a class discussion led by their teacher, Ms. Benoit. “Like us Floridians, iguanas are not used to cold weather, so when the temperature drops, they freeze. Iguanas are ectotherms. They need warm weather to keep their blood flowing,” explains Ms. Benoit. Danticat turns this moment of wonder and discovery into a powerful educational tool.
At the heart of this story is the bond between Leila and her grandmother. The story opens with Danticat’s illumination of the friendship between Leila and Grandma Issa as Leila departs for school. “I’ll see you after school, my dear,” says Grandma Issa; “Not if I see you first,” replies Leila, which is always her response. It is also Grandma Issa who collects Leila from school each day. In addition to the dialogue that shows the connection between Leila and her grandmother, the illustrations also detail the closeness between the two. At the beginning of the story, Grandma Issa comes out in her bathrobe to bid farewell to her granddaughter, and Moss portrays them standing close and smiling at each other while Leila’s parents are in the car. When Grandma Issa comes to collect Leila after school, Moss again depicts them walking next to each other, laughing and in a partial embrace as they walk and talk about iguanas on their journey home.
Furthermore, Leila’s decision to share her discovery with her grandmother and not her skeptical mother reveals the trust and intergenerational connection they share. Through their relationship, Danticat deftly portrays the ways older generations pass down knowledge, often in phrases or warnings that may appear puzzling to the young. Grandma Issa’s statement is not quirky—it reflects lived experience and a keen awareness of the natural world expressed in a manner that invites curiosity.
Leila’s response to her grandmother’s warning is equally important. She listens, remembers, and remains alert, unlike her mother, who dismisses the message and imagines that Grandma Issa must have been referring to something else. When Leila herself finally witnesses a falling iguana, her amazement is tinged with recognition—her grandmother was right. This moment encourages young readers to cultivate attentiveness, to observe carefully, and to hold space for the unexpected.
A central strength of the book lies in how Danticat integrates environmental science into the narrative. Many readers—children and adults alike—may not know that when exposed to unusually cold temperatures, iguanas enter a state of immobility, causing them to fall from trees. By embedding this ecological fact within a children’s story, Danticat entertains while she educates. The book thus doubles as a primer on local wildlife and the effects of climate variation, particularly in places like Miami, where such events are newsworthy.
The cultural context is equally significant because it situates ecological phenomena. Miami is home to a vibrant mix of Caribbean communities—Haitian, Jamaican, Cuban, Dominican, and more—and Moss’s illustrations beautifully reflect this diversity. Leila’s school is full of children from different backgrounds, mirroring the real demographics of South Florida. This visual representation of the students is crucial for children who do not typically see themselves reflected in picture books, affirming their identity, fostering belonging, and underscoring themes of multiculturalism and community.
Danticat writes with clarity and lyrical precision, tailored to a young audience. The language is simple without being simplistic, as the children reason with their teacher about iguanas, the weather, and the human body. “Why do they fall out of the trees?” Leila asks. “Because their legs, like the rest of their bodies, go to sleep, and they can’t hang on the tree branches,” explains their teacher. “Can we pet them?” asks one of the students. “I’m glad I’m not an ecto-whatever,” says another student. “All our bodies have ways of protecting themselves,” adds Ms. Benoit. The dialogue reflects the children’s age, and the humor imbued in the conversation between the teacher and the children creates a comfortable and relatable learning environment. A well-maintained balance between dialogue and description allows the scientific explanation to emerge organically through the plot, without sounding overly didactic.
The illustrations in this book are appealing and clearly represent the people and environment in which the text is set. Moss, known for her striking depictions of Caribbean life, brings Danticat’s narrative alive with color and detail. For example, the children at Leila’s school are portrayed in a range of skin tones, hairstyles, and cultural markers. The lush subtropical environment of Miami—its trees, colors, and animals—is accurately captured by Moss so that the phenomenon of falling iguanas feels grounded in place. Moss’s artistic acumen is superbly displayed in her ability to convey emotion through the images: readers can clearly see Leila’s puzzled expression when she hears her grandmother’s warning, and her classmates’ astonishment is vividly rendered, helping children connect emotionally with the story. Even the iguanas, whether in trees or on the ground, are expertly portrayed. Together, Danticat’s prose and Moss’s illustrations create a text that is both literary and didactic, entertaining as well as educational.
Danticat joins a growing cohort of Caribbean authors who are contributing to children’s literature in meaningful ways. From a pedagogical perspective, Watch Out for Falling Iguanas lends itself to multiple classroom applications. Teachers can use it to discuss environmental science, encourage intergenerational dialogue, highlight cultural diversity, and develop critical observation skills. Consequently, the book is particularly valuable for educators seeking stories that are relatable for young learners and that seamlessly connect science, culture, and literacy. Of significance is the book’s ability to address the peculiar phenomenon of iguanas falling from trees, transforming this oddity into an occasion for reflection, respect for elders, and wonder at the natural world. Moreover, this work continues Danticat’s effort to amplify Haitian voices and experiences in ways that resonate across generations. Just as her novels and memoirs foreground the resilience of Haitian communities, her new children’s book underscores resilience in another form—the capacity of children to learn, adapt, and see their environments anew.
For young readers, this book offers delight and discovery. For educators and parents, it is a teaching tool that serves as an effective method for teaching science, culture, and empathy. And for children’s literature, it represents another significant contribution by Danticat, affirming her role not only as a chronicler of adult lives in the Haitian diaspora but also as a voice for the youngest members of that community. In a world where climate and culture increasingly intersect in unexpected ways, Watch Out for Falling Iguanas reminds us all to pay attention, listen to our elders, and, quite literally, watch the trees.
Renée Latchman, PhD, is an academic affairs specialist, a consultant to the Applied Liberal Studies Program, and a lecturer at Morgan State University, Baltimore, who has taught in the DC–Maryland area for over twelve years. Latchman is also the associate editor of the College Language Association Journal and has special interest in multicultural, Caribbean, diaspora, and twentieth-century women’s literature, children’s literature, and Caribbean women’s leadership. Her contribution to research includes multiple conference presentations, book chapters, peer-reviewed articles, book reviews, and a newspaper article.
[1] The book is unpaginated.