I took my time reading Ta-Nehisi Coates' book, Between
the World and Me. From the opening pages, it reminded me of James Baldwin. Both
writers challenge me to think through their pages, to consider their arguments,
and see how their view of the world connects with my own. But the part of his
book I couldn't stop thinking about, was the protection of the black body, of
the value of the black body to our nation, and in particular how he describes
his walk to school as a young man.
"When I was your age, each day, fully one-third of my
brain was concerned with who I was walking to school with, our precise number,
the manner of our walk, the number of times I smiled, who or what I smiled at,
who offered a pound and who did not—all of which to say, I practiced the
culture of the streets. [...] I do not long for those days. I think I somehow
knew that that third of my brain should have been concerned with more beautiful
things. I think I felt that something out there [...] had robbed me of...
what?"
The other evening, I rode my bike home from work. It
was a little later than usual, so I was paying close attention to cars and
bumps in the road that might sneak up on me in the darkness. The sun was
setting and the cold, winter, LA sky, glowed brilliant shades of red and orange
against bright and blue darkening to navy. Every time I looked up, I was met
with a different version of this beauty and tried to smile in appreciation. I
also couldn't help but think about Coates and the protection of the
body. I relate to this as a woman, a small woman, and a small woman riding
through LA traffic. Yet I still do not know what it is to hold the fear of
violence as a black man in America like Coates describes. When I was young
I walked home from school musing red cinder on asphalt or juniper
pollen or ice under mostly blue skies. I recognize this privilege and hope
more of America will pick up this important and timely book to explore how our
experiences connect and differ.
As part of the #ReadDiversLit challenge, this counts as a
memoir or biography by a diverse author. This category has so many titles I
love to read (and write) so here are a few books I recommend if you're looking
to fulfill this part of the challenge:
Running in the Family by Michael Ondaatje: A nontraditional,
beautifully rendered memoir of the author's family in Sri Lanka.
Men We Reaped by Jesmyn Ward: The unique structure of this
memoir beautifully and brutally sheds light on the violence of growing up poor,
black, and male in the American South.
Bad Feminist by Roxane Gay: Essays on pop culture and
feminism from an intelligent Black voice.
The Fire Next Time by James Baldwin: Coates' letter to his
son brought me right to Baldwin's letter to his nephew from this work.
The Autobiography of Malcolm X: Alex Haley and Malcolm X:
This book was my introduction to the Civil Rights movement beyond Martin Luther
King Jr.
Through Eyes Like Mine and Overdue Apologies by
Noriko Nakada: The story my early childhood and middle school years from a
multi-racial perspective.
Oh, and on my list to read in this category: Fire Shut Up
In My Bones by Charles M. Blow.
What really set this book apart for me, though, is that it's the story of a mixed-race marriage and of mixed-race children. These are the kinds of books I write as a mixed author, but I haven't had the opportunity to read very many of them. Wait. I haven't read any novels like this. And the few books I have read are about the black/white mixed-race experience: The Color of Water, by James McBride, Caucasia by Danzy Senna, and Dreams of My Father by Barrack Obama.
So, in addition to Everything I Never Told You and the books mentioned above, I have to recommend Through Eyes Like Mine and Overdue Apologies for people looking to read more about from mixed race characters. Apparently, there aren't too many book likes this out there!
