Sunday, December 30, 2018

Book Review: Reclaiming Our Space by Feminista Jones

Image: The cover of the book has a geometric red and pink background. On the top half, in large uppercase yellow and orange letters is "Reclaiming Our Space." Below that in small, black, uppercase letters reads, "how black feminists are changing the world from the tweets to the streets." Below that, in larger teal uppercase letters is the author's name- Feminista Jones. At the bottom of the cover in small black letters is a quote from a review, but it is too small for me to read and transcribe as my copy does not contain the quote. 

In reviewing Reclaiming Our Space by Feminista Jones, it feels necessary to recommend that the reader disregard the title of the book before diving in. I hung on to the title for a while before letting it go and wish I had let it go sooner. The book is not a book about other feminists' activism online and in person. It is largely a book about Jones' life, opinions, experiences, and writing career told through a collection of separate essays. This is not a bad thing. I would have also been interested in reading a book that presented itself as a collection of her essays or as a memoir. But, those who latch onto the title may find themselves disappointed. Jones does indeed discuss the writing and tweeting of other feminists, but only in brief snippets that almost always end up being directed back to Jones' experiences, her writing, her opinions, or her interactions with said feminist. There is also not much on the "...to the streets" part of the title as the book focuses heavily on social media, blogging, writing, and some other media. Again, this is not necessarily a bad thing. It actually made me appreciate social media contributions more. It's just not quite in line with what I expected from the title.

As I mentioned, this book gave me a more positive and appreciative view of social media contributions to radicalism and activism. As someone who was born in the early 80s- before the internet was a widely accessible thing- I grew up often being told that what happened on the internet was "not real." This colored the way I have analyzed writing on social media. I had not even realized before reading this book how much the value I placed on certain formats was infected by capitalism and as a result, white supremacy. I saw newspaper articles as "real" sources and facebook rants as "opinion." While some newspapers may have more resources for fact checking, they also tend to have a narrow demographic representation. While most people can contribute to social media, making it dangerous ground for the spread of false information, it is also a platform that allows the most underprivileged voices to be seen, heard, and spread widely- usually without the compensation offered to those writing news articles. There is, of course, overlap between the two as well. This was very important for me to read and not something I have seen presented in this way.

In discussing her own experiences with social media and writing, Jones expands on this, peppering her narrative with anecdotes about various feminists on blogs and twitter who created large, influential presences on the internet. Jones also discusses the amount of backlash that Black feminists face when tackling the topic of feminism in the realms of both Blackness and womanhood. There are sections dedicated to (Heaux)teps and what Jones calls "Hotep Twitter" as well as white feminism and the harm caused by women such as Rose McGowan, Tina Fey, and other white woman who fail to understand racism or the unique struggles faced by Black women. The only negative about this is that Jones ends up devoting more time to anti-Black feminist voices than she does to the voices of Black feminists. As a result, there may be an unintended effect of misogynoir being amplified through the amount of space it is given relative to Black feminist voices (aside from Jones'.) 

When I hit the "Talk Like Sex" chapter, I was looking forward to reading something more inclusive given that Jones mentions multiple times that she is queer. However, in general, her discussions of sexuality centered heterosexuality and heterosexual sex and relationships. I was still holding onto the title of the book at this point and this essay in particular could have benefited from the inclusive of the voices of queer and/or trans women and queer sex/relationships. But, again, if the book is viewed as more of a memoir of the reader, this lack of inclusion is less disappointing. This is not to say that "Talk Like Sex" offered nothing. It included a variety of sex positive issues as well as some of Jones' theories that were framed in interesting ways. Jones' discussion of the lack of existence of "slut" and "ho" (due to the reality that it takes a value judgment of womens sexuality in order to use the words) was particularly engaging.

The last few essays of the book are what really get down to the subject matter of Black feminism and represent more of Jones' views rather than experiences. These were my favorites of the book, especially "Black Mamas Matter." The aforementioned essay tackles a topic that is often underrepresented or underappreciated in feminist discourse, despite being something discussed by Black feminists from before feminist was even a word. I believe Jones- like her sections on social media- adds some new things to this important discussion. She weaves information from popular culture throughout a discussion of Black women's (lack of adequate) healthcare, childbirth and childcare, and the general stigma and struggle Black women have faced and continue to face from all directions. "Mammy 2.0" was another essay in this section involving an engaging catalogue of past and present struggles of Black women given the stereotype. If you're the type of person who skips around a lot in essay collections and anthologies, be sure to read the last third of the book.

In summary, this book is enjoyable and important. It is likely best viewed as part memoir, part collection of essays by the author rather than an in depth book about other feminists. While Jones does drop a lot of names in the book, refreshingly, many of which we never hear, it is my opinion that she does not give them enough space to match the title. The book is still a decent contribution to "the discourse" as Jones' words stand well on their own.

This review was also posted to goodreads.

Sunday, December 9, 2018

Book Review: Family Guide to Mental Illness and the Law

Image: The cover of the book is light blue with the author's name in yellow capital letters across the center top of the book, the title of the book in white capital letters in the center, and "a practical handbook" in yellow letters and at the bottom. Each set of text is separated by a thin, white, horizontal line.

Linda Tashbook's Family Guide to Mental Illness and the Law is an indispensable handbook for not only family members of people with mental illness, but anyone in any proximity to mental illness and disability- including the sufferers themselves. The book is directed at family members, but it contains such a vast amount of accessible information that I can't think of anyone who would not benefit from having it around.

While the book can certainly be read cover to cover, it is designed well as the "practical handbook" that it claims to be. Each section stands on it's own, allowing the reader to jump around and skip things that aren't currently relevant. I would say I read 60-75% of the book. I marked many sections to reread later and will likely get to the ones that weren't currently relevant when the time comes to need them. As a person who is on social security disability for multiple health conditions, someone who has dealt with family members' suicide and involuntary commitment, someone who has had prisoner pen pals with severe mental illness, and someone with a former background in psychology and cognitive neuroscience, there was a huge amount of information in this book that was relevant and educational for me. Even things I thought I was pretty well versed in, such as social security disability, offered clarifying information that filled in many gaps in my knowledge.

Tashbook's book is very well organized and uses many tools to make the information more accessible such as anecdotes, court cases, how-to guides, terminology definitions, and general step-by-step information often difficult for the public to access. The book is broken up into five major categories: Health Law, Criminal Law, Employment Law, Consumer Law, and Death and the Law. Each major category has several specific sub-sections. Do you need to know how much someone receiving social security disability income can make and how long they can work at a part time job before losing their disability benefits? Do you need help navigating life insurance claims after the suicide of a parent? Are you wondering who is responsible for housing relatives with severe mental illness? What do you do if your child with severe mental illness is arrested for loitering? Do you need to know what kind of assets of people dealing with federally qualifying mental health disabilities count against state and federal benefits? How can you make sure someone you know with mental illness or other health struggles will receive their medications while incarcerated? Tashbook has you covered on all of these fronts and more. The information is all very easy to find in the book as well, allowing you to navigate to whatever specific section you need in the moment.

My only criticism of this book is how easy Tashbook goes on the police. She has large sections dedicated to dealing with police misconduct, but often wraps things in the idea that police are well-intentioned, law-abiding citizens that exist to protect people. Disabled people make up the largest demographic of people killed by police. Approximately half of incidences of gun violence by police and 25-50% of people killed by police have mental illness. Tashbook took the time to be hard on emergency room workers, insurance providers, and so on. I believe she should have gone harder on police. I, of course, did not expect her to shout, "ACAB" from the rooftops. But, some acknowledgement of how horrific police involvement in mental illness situations often is would have been appreciated. The way the sections on police are written makes it seem as if misconduct is rare and when it occurs it is well investigated and punished. The opposite is true and studies show this. To Tashbook's credit, she does offer a lot of information on how to make reports of police misconduct from the local all the way to federal levels. I wish it was also noted that police have always existed as agents of control rather than protection. A book dealing with mental illness and the law should not make it seem like the police are generally on the side of marginalized people.

I should note that the tone of this book is generally not preachy or opinionated. So, I understand why Tashbook (and other legal writers I have read) take a cautious approach with how they discuss the police. I just hope that people don't see police as a first resort when reading these things. Overall, though, this book is extremely important and needed and thus I can forgive this one criticism. I am glad to have this on my shelf and will undoubtedly use it as a reference for years to come.

This review was also posted to goodreads.

Thursday, November 22, 2018

Book Review: Che: A Revolutionary Life (Graphic Biography)

Image: The cover of the book is a splotchy brown and tan background. "Che" is written accross the top in very large, red, capital letters that fade at the bottom. Che Guevara is drawn in black and white from the neck up and ears forward. He has a beard, a beret, and is taking a drag off of a cigar held in his hand while looking down. Under the title and across the top of his head says, "A Revolutionary Life" in white capital letters and under that, in front of his face on the left side of the cover, states (A Graphic Biography, Jon Lee Anderson & Jose Hernandez."
I won this via goodreads giveaways and it is labeled as an "advance uncorrected proof."

Let me begin by stating that the art in this book is fantastic across the board. José Hernández produced some of the best art I've seen in comics/graphic novels. This is what carried the book for the most part. Hernandez's name should be the first author.

I also want to start by saying my beliefs are anti-authoritarian and extremely left wing. So, please do not take my criticisms to be coming from a place of being anti-communism. Anti-authoritarian communism is pretty close to where I am at.

The main reason for my rating this book as mediocre is that Anderson's writing just wasn't there. I do want to give him credit- a graphic biography is a really cool idea and one difficult to execute. So, perhaps this just isn't his field. I have not read any other biographies of Che to compare, so I am unsure of how accurate this is. I can say that it seems like Anderson thought writing for comics or writing dialogue was just a shorter form version of writing an article for the New Yorker. It's common for comic writers not to be seen as legitimate. But, this book is an example of writing that is not good for comics. The dialogue is very bland outside direct quotes and the thing that carries us through the story is the artwork. I know that Anderson wrote a respected biography of Che and perhaps it just did not translate to this medium.

I also took issue with Anderson's introduction. It would be extremely important, if he is still able, to rewrite the introduction. If Anderson wants to appeal to a large audience, especially audiences that would be most interested in this kind of book, he needs to not alienate most of those younger than him. The introduction reads as if he no longer believes violent revolution exists because of iphones and the internet. The "kids these days" approach to dismissing the criticisms and concerns about Guevara's violence and oppressive ideals made him seem like a lousy historian. He brings up Guevara's homophobia in the introduction, then never touches on it in the text.

There are many issues with dismissing homophobia and complaining of identity politics. First off, gay people have been part of revolutions forever. They are often erased just like people of other oppressed groups. Secondly, this should be obvious, putting gay people into camps is egregiously disgusting. I assume that this is due to war and radical movements both being an extension of broader culture. The machismo and hatred of homosexuality, gender nonconformity, and the feminine existed before Guevara came to Cuba and before Castro. Nonetheless, oppressive, homophobic, misogynistic behavior that was part of Castro and Guevara's revolution. In the book, Castro states, "The revolution is not carried out with saints, Ernesto. It's made by real people." This is absolutely true and important to remember, especially in perfectionist call-out culture. But, it is also true that it took active, deliberate, planned efforts to round up gay people and put them into labor camps. That's a bit different than having some character flaws. I really looked forward to this being explored in the book but it was not even mentioned. The idea that kids these days put identity ahead of the revolution completely erases all of the people whose daily struggles with brocialists fit into how they were treated and heard during revolutions.

On to the content, I did enjoy the book while reading it and eventually settled into it well. It did teach me a little about Latin American leftist revolutions and gave me some history on the key players. I am unsurprised that Guevara was a brocialist. Pretty much all men who self appoint as leaders of "the revolution" are. I very much admire how Castro, Guevara, and co refused to submit to the United States. But, Guevara's behavior often seemed less idealistic and more self centered. His early journals (not included in the book) show racism against Black African people. His later trip to help "liberate" them is marred with criticisms of the people with little to no interest in learning from them. Ableism is part of every revolution, but if you want another example of self centeredness, it is "If I can climb the stairs, with asthma, why can't everyone else?" The book portrays his as a absent father and husband who blames "the revolution" for his mistreatment of his families and neglect of his responsibilities. He seemed to see women's only purpose as child creators and rearers. Many of these things are common, normal mistakes of young revolutionary men throughout history (and today.*) But, I would have appreciated if this book touched on the nuances more. I can tell it tried to, but it did not get there for me. I have asked myself if it was simply my dislike of the character they wrote about or if it was the writing. I believe it was a bit of both.


__________________________
*This is not to let them off the hook and there are plenty of exceptions.

Also posted to my goodreads.

Monday, November 5, 2018

Book Review: Schadenfreude: The Joy of Another's Misfortune

Image:  The cover of the book is bright yellow and in the center is a small illustration of a banana peel on the ground. The title of the book spans the top center of the cover in capitalized black serif font letters. The author's name is at the bottom of the cover in the same lettering. In lowercase letters below her name it says, "Author of The Book of Human Emotions."

Content Warning: This review includes mention (but no gratuitous descriptions or analyses) of sexual violence.

I don't know exactly what I expected going into Tiffany Watt Smith's "SHADENFREUDE: The Joy of Another's Misfortune." I think perhaps since I have a bit of a psychology background, I expected an interesting but somewhat dry psychological analysis of the phenomenon. This book was far more than that. I thoroughly enjoyed every second of this little text and laughed out loud at many of the anecdotes and analyses. Perhaps that says more about me than it does about the book.

Smith uses psychology, neuroscience, philosophy, sociology, gender studies, pop culture, and other vehicles to examine the subject in very entertaining ways. She visits experts and gets their take, often detailing entertaining or moving conversations. She packs quite a lot into a small space from celebrating sports injuries to fmylife.com to #metoo and more. The book is broken up into different kinds of schadenfreude and different times that it presents itself. The beginning of each of these sections has three or so anecdotes of schadenfreude happening- most (or perhaps all) of which describe or mirror real life events. Gems like: 

...at a family lunch, your parents mention how lovely your brother's children are, and it absolutely definitely sounds like they're really saying  that your brother's kids are nicer than your kids, and then your brother's kid comes in sobbing with chocolate smeared all over his face, and screams: "Grandma's a fucking bitch!"

When a married anti-LGBT senator is caught having sex with a man in his office.


And, I would like to add two that I thought of repeatedly throughout the book that were not included, perhaps because it is about to get real dark in here: 

When Daniel Holtzclaw- police officer and serial rapist mainly targeting Black women- was in tears after being found guilty of multiple rapes and sexual assaults, with a recommended sentence of 263 years, ON HIS BIRTHDAY. 


When white supremacist/alt-right/nazi Richard Spencer was punched in the face during a news interview.

Both of these instances brought people out of the woodwork who claimed they normally don't celebrate pain and violence, but would make an exception in these cases. I have to agree. And some great memes came out of them.



There were some anecdotes Smith included I did not find funny. But, most of them at least made me smirk. It was an interesting experience as I often see myself as less inclined towards schadenfreude than average. Having read this book, I now believe that is not true, especially regarding schadenfreude that offers some form of poetic justice. The book helped me better understand and accept this rather than beating me down as bad for feeling it. Smith truly shows how schadenfreude is woven throughout all of our interactions and how it can serve certain social purposes. I knew a little bit about schadenfreude going in. I did not know that there is a separate word for it in a great many other languages, showing it spreads across locations and cultures.

While there is variance between individuals in just how far they will go with their schadenfreude, a unifying theme is often a feeling that the person or people had it coming. The authors seems to differentiate between sadism and schadenfreude, the former being more of a description of enjoying (and often causing) suffering in general. Misogynists, racists, corrupt politicians, and others bring obvious schadenfreude, but there is also a reality that people who are smug, lack humility, or just have an easier more privileged life also invoke joy in others when they suffer. Smith examines these phenomena both generally and personally being candid and honest about her own feelings and experiences. As she tied up the book she mentions, "I had hoped for a happy ending. Something like... I am, in short, a better person. But you already know that's not true," I laughed out loud. Yet, she follows this with some pretty brilliant life advice regarding dealing with when we find ourselves the target of schadenfreude, especially from people close to us:

If you are the victim of someone else's schadenfreude, you are seen as a worthy opponent. You have- or had, but don't worry, you'll get it again- something they want. Think back to those times when you have enjoyed their losses. Unless you very much deserve your misery, (in which case, take a long hard look at yourself,) their glee will tell you a lot about how you've made them feel.This really gave me a lot to chew on regarding schadenfreude (that isn't as clear cut as white supremacists deserving a punch to the face) in both directions. If you aren't quite able to see yourself as someone who finds joy in the misery of others at times, pick up this book and you'll find you are just as petty as the rest of us. And that's ok.

This review was also posted to goodreads.

Friday, November 2, 2018

Book Review - Firsts: Coming of Age Stories by People with Disabilities

Image: The cover of the book is a surrealist landscape with a blue cloudy sky dotted with two blue and black butterflies which are also scattered throughout the rest of the scene. Two green globe-like hills make up the background. An elongated tan and dark brown checkerboard weaves like a road through the center with brown ground underneath it. Several playing cards and white and black chess pieces are scattered around. In the upper right corner is part of a green tree or bush with globe-like bunches of leaves and the bottom right corner is an obscured tan house with a reddish brown roof and an arrow snaking out of the front. The title of the book is at the center in white script font and in smaller letters on the bottom reads "edited by Belo Miguel Cipriani."

Review also available on goodreads.

Up until now, the vast majority of books I have won on goodreads giveaways have been mediocre to poor. There are plenty I don't win that a later read and love, but for some reason, I have bad luck with the ones I do win. I am pleased to write that with Belo Miguel Cipriani's book "Firsts: Coming of Age Stories by People with Disabilities," this was not the case. This collection of essays was an excellent read, not to mention a decent representation of the wide variety of people with disabilities.

Firsts surprised me off the bat when I read the introduction from the author who is a Blind gay man of color. Mainstream disability narratives are often dominated by white, heterosexual, and other non-marginalized voices, leaving out a huge amount of disabled voices with a variety of perspectives to offer outside the norm. Given my rough history with goodreads giveaways, I expected just that. I was so happy to continue reading and discover so many queer disabled stories in the book. Several gay and bisexual authors contributed and it was excellent to see my communities represented in this way. Cipriani was also not the only author of color.

This book also showcased a wide variety of disabilities. We get to hear from Blind folks, those with PTSD, part time and full time wheelchair users, those with severe tinnitus and hearing loss, people on the Autism spectrum, and others. It was again, a pleasant surprise to see such a wide variety of perspectives included in this book when all too often, many disability stories center on one type of disability. This has functional relevance at times such as a campaign focusing on a specific disability, but in others, such as disability accommodations and events, the lack of diverse representation is often a problem.

Even though this book hit on many unheard demographic experiences, that is not the only reason I liked it and gave it 5 stars. Most of the essays are well written and accessible and the book is well edited. The essays capture the experiences at a reading level accessible to many. The title says that they are "coming of age" stories but I would say that is not accurate. Some stories are coming of age but many others are experiences from people already well into adulthood. The stories range from heartbreaking to sentimental. One story, in which a wheelchair user details his first experience with a gay hookup website ripped out my heart. Each narrator has their own unique voice and perspectives on living with disabilities.

I can definitely feel confident recommending this book, knowing it represents a wider variety of voices than many disability stories and anthologies do. And, it's just plain entertaining. 

Friday, October 19, 2018

Book Review: I'm Still Here: Black Dignity in a World Made for Whiteness

Image: The book cover is a mint green background with scattered writing all in capital letters. There are horizontal black stripes that fill in the gaps between words. "I'm still here," on top in white letters, "Black Dignity in a World Made for Whiteness," in the center in black letters, and "Austin Channing Brown" on the bottom in white letters.

Austin Channing Brown's memoir is a short and compelling book despite the fact that she claims near the beginning that there was not anything flashy or exceptional in her life like growing up rich or in extreme poverty. She has plenty of interesting stories from her life to tell and she uses them very well to convey messages about larger society. The book is structured in an interesting way, breaking up the memoir with interludes like, "Why I love being a Black girl." This made the book flow well.

Brown was given a perceived white man's name by her parents in order to combat prejudices, white supremacy, and misogynoir. While this name did work to get her in the door at times, she still of course faced racism on a regular basis. At one point in the memoir, she details one day at a predominantly white workplace. This story was very effective in showing just how many microaggressions Black women deal with daily. Brown focuses a lot on these microaggressions and for good reason. It is not only the sporadic horrific murders or someone calling someone the N-word that are effects of racism and white supremacy. It is the daily slog through a society in which every stitch of its culture is built around whiteness.

Brown details microaggressions such as white people touching her hair and scrutinizing her body, being expected to speak for all Black people everywhere from grade school to the work place, white guilt and the space taken up by well-meaning but ignorant white people, and more. She also delves deep into the never ending historical pain caused by horrific events such as the 1963 16th Street Baptist Church bombing- in which 4 KKK members murdered 4 young Black girls- and the day that white supremacist murderer Dylann Roof took the lives of 9 people and (physically) injuring another. I am sure that everyone present has the psychological injuries that will last a lifetime. Brown talks about her experiences as a Black, church-going, Christian woman. She discusses how to persevere even when it feels like there is no hope in a society in which racism never goes away, it just slightly changes its shape.

There is a lot of discussion of Black churches and Christianity in this book. I always get a little nervous regarding Christianity talk as most churches have not been kind to (Queer and trans) people like me and white Christianity has been used as a tool of genocide and colonization. Brown, while very strong in Christian faith, does understand there is a history that cannot be ignored. She says that, "...even though the Church I love has been the oppressor as often as it has been the champion of the oppressed, I can’t let go of my belief in Church—in a universal body of belonging, in a community that reaches toward love in a world so often filled with hate. I continue to be drawn toward the collective participation of seeking good, even when that means critiquing the institution I love for its commitment to whiteness." Despite being an atheist myself, I do understand the purpose churches serve for many. Brown did well to put this into words.

She ends the book with a discussion about love. In response to people insisting she should love her oppressor into stopping the oppression, she states, “More often than not, my experience has been that whiteness sees love as a prize it is owed, rather than a moral obligation it must demonstrate.” Yet, Brown urges people not to give up and still believes love is a tool for liberation. This book is more than a memoir, it is also passionate plea for racial justice. It is a quick and worthy read.

Monday, September 17, 2018

Book Review: Stamped from the Beginning: The Definitive History of Racist Ideas in America

Image: The book cover has a tan background with a black silhouette of a person's head from the neck up facing to the right. Across the profile are 5 streaks of red painted lines and woven on top of and under the lines is "Stamped from the Beginning" in white uppercase letters. Underneath the neck of the profile is "The Definitive history of Racist Ideas in America" in smaller, italic, black letters. The lower right corner has Ibram X. Kendi's name in red letters.

Note: I normally only post advance or recent release reviews to this blog and reviews of older books to goodreads. This book came out over a year ago, but I decided it was recent and important enough to include here.

This is a long book, but it is not the kind that I spent time wishing was shorter. In fact, this book could have been much longer and held my interest in satisfying ways. Stamped from the Beginning is mostly a history of anti-Black racist ideas in (North) America. It also serves as one of the best accounts of the History of the United States I have ever read. Ibram X. Kendi covers a huge amount of important history that often goes untold or is mangled by white supremacist revisionists. I wonder what life would be like if this was the history book we had in grade school.

This book outs the "founding fathers" as slavers and racists, covers the complex intricacies of Black resistance, liberation, and assimilation, and also strives to hold space for Black women and LGBTQ Black people that is often lacking in historical accounts such as this. I do think that Kendi could have done slightly better on that last part. There were one or two times where he seemed to draw a false equivalency between Black women calling out Black men's patriarchy and Black men hating on Black women. However, most of the time- especially in the sections on Angela Davis and the epilogue- he does well to highlight the often buried history of Black womens resistance against not just white supremacy but also against patriarchy and misogyny within Black liberation movements.

Kendi avoids the racist-or-not-racist dichotomy and instead puts people into one of three camps: segregationists, assimilationists, and anti-racists. Technically, the first two are different kinds of racists, but weaving these three groups' ideologies throughout the book really helped to navigate the massive nuances in the history of racist ideas and liberation movements. He also uses terms like "gender racism" to describe the unique ways Black women deal with oppression- known to some others as misogynoir and/or intersectionality- and "upliftsuasion" in reference to assimilationist ideas and respectability politics.

Kendi calls attention to how anti-Black racism was used by wealthy whites in order to keep poor whites, non-Black people of color, white women, and other oppressed groups in their places. The painful history of indigenous enslaved people being replaced by Black enslaved people, native and poor white people offered privileges to pull them away from enslaved Black people, gynecological and other health experiments on enslaved people, IQ testing turning subjective intelligence into a faux-objective measurement targeting Black and poor people, and so on are highlighted with great detail. In the end, Kendi asserts that dismantling racism will serve the vast majority of white people more than racism does as racism has always been used as a tool to oppress everyone. Anti-Black racism has a root in and connection to every form of oppression and centering and dismantling anti-Black racism in all struggles will always help everyone in the big picture- even white people.

I highly recommend this as a history book about the USA, not just about racist ideas. It is by far the most comprehensive and accurate history of my country of residence that I have read.

Friday, September 7, 2018

Book Review: As Black As Resistance

Image: The cover of the book is a blurry black and white, vintage photograph of several dark skinned people leaning back against a wall. The women are wearing light colored dresses and the men are wearing light colored shirts and dark pants. One of the men is holding a small child perhaps of toddler ago. The title of the book, stylized to look like a shadow on the wall, is in black capitalized letters above their heads. Superimposed over the photograph, in small white letters are the authors' names and the byline for the book.


It has been a while since I felt that a book truly spoke my language. I read a lot of books about social justice, racial justice, feminism, and so on and while many of them are very good, I often leave feeling like they didn't quite match up with the level of unapologetic radical love that I was hoping for. As Black As Resistance by Zoé Samudzi and William C. Anderson really carved out a space in my heart while reading it. The book is short, but is not what I would call a short read. It is rather academic so it required me to take my time. I usually have some pretty strong critiques about academic social justice focused writing. Aside from accessibility to the masses, the biggest one is that a ton of academic texts I read aren't really saying much of anything. They often focus on talking big and self congratulation more than they do conveying a profound message. This book is not one of those academic writings. It is saying a hell of a lot and has a lot to offer in a very small space. Even though I know it would be a difficult read for some people, it is still a book I would hand out- especially as an introduction to... well... everything in the United States.

Samudzi and Anderson really wrap up a lot of topics into this small space and they use the voices they have quite well. They do not fall into the trappings that some books with a focus do where they leave other topics or the most marginalized people of the centered demographic behind. This book lifts up Blackness and centers the most oppressed Black people (Black women, LGBTQ people, etc.) At the same time, they leave no one else behind. The authors exemplify the "trickle up" system of resistance in which fighting for the most affected by systemic issues of oppression always positively affects everyone. The authors are direct, unapologetic, passionate, and fierce and at the same time there is a thread of great love and kindness woven throughout their writing. They do not attempt to ease the reader into the reality that the United States is a place of great horrors. Even if you are a person who is already familiar with many of the topics and much of the information in this book, I am going to guess that- like me- you will find it refreshing to read something so unapologetic that is, for once, not trying to couch what it is saying in something else. Dismantling white supremacy requires dismantling the United States, Black people (and some other oppressed groups) lack true citizenship and rights in the United States, slavery and settler colonialism are still present today and will be for as long as the United States exists. Period.

The section on self defense was my favorite part of this book. Part of this was because it was the part that really exposed me to things written in a way that I had not seen much before. But, part of it was because it was so empowering. Samudzi and Anderson tackle the historical inaccuracies about Black "nonviolent" resistance. They include quotes from W.E.B. DuBois, Fannie Lou Hamer, Martin Luther King Jr, and others all of whom defend the use of guns and violence for self defense. They also tackle the idea sometimes promoted by white manarchists that all fighting or violence is automatically self defence or justifiable. The writers take on a nuanced critique of violence and self defense in a way that calls attention to the critical need for communities to defend themselves and to not allow white washed rhetoric and false histories of nonviolent civil rights movemements be used to pacify them.

Even if you are a person who struggles with more academic writing, this is one that is worth grabbing your dictionary or google for and giving a shot. The authors also have a lot of footnotes where they do define many concepts and subjects, but some folks who are unfamiliar with anarchism or far left racial justice will still need help. It's worth it. This book is definitely one I will recommend to people for years to come.

Saturday, August 11, 2018

Book Review: How to be Less Stupid About Race


Image: the cover of "How to be Less Stupid About Race" which is a light teal background with various words and phrases scattered in different direction, mostly obscured by the title and blending in with the background. "Not all white people," "What are you?'" "You are so articulate!'" and "I don't see color'" stick out in brighter shades of white. The title of the book is scattered down the page in crooked capitalized black letters with a yellow brushed texture behind them. Crystal M. Fleming is at the bottom going across in capital black letters and is underlined in yellow.

My first assumption about Crystal M. Fleming's "How to be Less Stupid About Race" was that it was a book likely targeting beginners in the realm of those seeking racial justice- a 101 of sorts. I suppose it was the title that made me think that. Upon reading it, I quickly realized that that assumption was false. If you're not familiar with words like "hegemony" and "heteropatriarchy," you will need to be willing to open google or your dictionary on occasion while reading this book. This is not a good or bad thing, just something to be aware of going in. No, you are not "stupid" at reading on top of being "stupid" about race. There is some academic jargon in here that is uncommon in our everyday language usage.

I initially had a hard time getting into the book because I found Fleming's approach to introducing the topics therein a little inaccessible. Part of this was due to the aforementioned reasons and because using the word "stupid" so much can devolve into ableism. But, it also came off as if Fleming was saying that anyone who has not "studied race" was basically not suited to talk about it publicly. As a person who has known and followed countless very wise people with no academic degrees, I could not grasp why someone would say this. I decided to just keep reading and I am glad that I did.

This book is very well organized. It's something often lacking in books like this that are almost a collection of essays but I always notice it. The placement and ordering is good, there is always a thread tying everything together, and the ending of the book wrapped it all up nicely. Fleming packed a HUGE amount of history, research, and information into this book. As I made my way through it, I began to understand better what she meant about highlighting and interviewing people who have "studied race." People who have studied these things can, but don't necessarilly have to, do so in college. If one studies these things, one is much better prepared to deal with all of the racist arguments that endlessly come at you in discussions of race. If you have studied race, you will likely still learn things from this book because of how much info she has packed into a small space as well as how she offers analyses of this info. Even the things I already knew about I appreciated her take on and organization of in the same space with related information. The book is dynamic, fast paced, and engaging.

A tool Fleming uses throughout the book is to analyze and be accountable for her past. Sometimes I felt it was a little much and I could feel her guilt seeping through. But, most of the time, it was a very welcome addition of humility from a writer. None of us is born "woke." We grow up within systems that teach us to hate ourselves and others and we all internalize these things. Fleming discussing her progress and learning process in becoming "less stupid about race" herself is something that makes her more approachable to the reader. It makes a very heavy book more personable. I believe, that without her stories, fewer people would enjoy the book and would assume they aren't radical enough. Learning the writer's process was a very smart technique in helping the reader learn.

 Fleming is very quotable throughout this book and also offers a few sections that I easily see making their way into anti-racist study groups or information sources online. The seven fallacies of white supremacy section helps break down a lot of ignorant assumptions about racism that are ingrained in many (or all) of us in a white supremacist society. Her chapters about Obama and Trump dismantle the capitalist binary that many liberals cling to (believing democrats are the good guys in the struggle just because republicans are bad guys.) In the end she gives us the ten steps we can take to build a less racist society. What is interesting about many of these things she has put together is that the audience she is speaking to is very wide. The language can get academic at times, but the suggestions and subject matter are directed at a lot of people of all races. I could see a wide range of people learning a lot from this book. Reading Fleming's learning process leads me to believe that her constant introspection may bring us more from her and that this book is one of many. Perhaps we will look back at this and see how she has come even further in the future. The wisest people never stop learning especially with how fast everything is always changing.

Saturday, May 5, 2018

Book Review: What Truth Sounds Like: Robert F. Kennedy, James Baldwin, and Our Unfinished Conversation About Race in America

Image: The cover of the book is a white background with "what truth sounds like" in gray capital letters except for the word truth which is in larger, black letters. In small, red capital letters next to the word "like" sits the byline of the book. A black line divides the title from the author's name below written in black capital letters. Next to his name is a gold circle that says "New York Times bestselling author of tears we cannot stop."

When I began Michael Eric Dyson's "What Truth Sounds Like," I found myself wondering if this book was going to be for me. I was previously unfamiliar with Dyson's work and the first passage of the book seemingly speaks of heroes and patriotic martyrs. I worried I was walking into another neoliberal revisionist telling of important histories of racial struggle and justice in the United States. You know, the kind where we hear things like Rosa Parks was just a tired woman on the bus and not a radical civil rights activist. I was pleased to find that continuing forward lead me into an informative and fairly well analyzed catalogue of race issues in the United States. Dyson's writing style is captivating and held my attention throughout.

It is clear that Dyson thought deeply about this book and his position in society before writing it.  His attention to his own perspective and how that both informs and limits his knowledge clearly helped him write the book. While the book's title references a discussion between RFK and James Baldwin, this discussion is not what the entire book is about. It is more of a connecting thread that Dyson uses to analyze elements of social justice, pop culture, politics, and policy throughout the decades. We do learn about this conversation, about the Kennedys (and their shortcomings regarding understanding race,) Baldwin, and other important figures present in the conversation such as Lorraine Hansberry. But, Dyson also discusses a wide range of public figures who have spoken about or influenced racial justice in some way including Harry Belafonte, Muhammad Ali, Jay-Z, Beyonce, Colin Kapernick, Cornel West, Ta-nehisi Coates, Barack Obama, and Hillary Clinton among others.

Dyson's book is fairly inclusive of a variety of intersecting struggles with race. He regularly mentions gender, sexuality, class, colorism, immigration status, and other issues. This is particularly important given that James Baldwin and Lorraine Hansberry were gay and lesbian on top of being Black which added a whole other level to the amount of social sludge they had to trek through to make their way in the world. There is also a great deal of information that Dyson included that showed the multidimensional nature of people the left likes to view as perfect, infallible heroes (which strengthens our toxic call-out culture.) The book is well researched which creates a good foundation to build the analyses Dyson expresses in this book. I feel like I understand more about what it was like to exist in different time periods than I did previously.

Dyson does well criticizing the racist and oppressive history of the United States without sugar coating it, but in the last third of his book he does fall into neoliberal patterns I was worried about. He has a whole section on Hillary Clinton in which he jumps through several hoops to defend or ignore the extensive problems with her, essentially blames Black people and other radicals who criticized her during her campaign as at fault for Trump winning, perpetuates the myth of the "white working class" being responsible for electing Trump when most Trump voters were affluent or at least middle class whites,  and other problematic and false assertions. During this he does make some good points such as rich famous academics not having as much to lose or that people critiquing Clinton did not do the same when Obama took similar actions. But, he completely glosses over the fact that the system is completely corrupt, many people with felonies could not vote due to extensive criminalization that Clinton supported, and the 2016 election was essentially a choice between two republicans: one closer to the center (Clinton) and one further to the right (Trump.) Clinton's convenient adopting of social justice language last minute cannot erase decades of racism, homophobia, war crimes, and other such beliefs and policies that have had deadly effects. Dyson's assertion that people should only be critiquing Trump instead of Clinton shows ignorance that does not fit in with the rest of his well researched and nuanced analyses he presents in the rest of the book. Forcing people to vote for someone who took active steps to keep them from having rights, because someone else does this more, makes voting pointless.


Overall, the book is interesting readable, and well timed. Dyson must be a fast writer because there are issues he talks about in this book that I remember happening quite recently. It is worth the read while keeping in mind that Dyson occasionally contradicts his radical analyses and politics at times by falling into neoliberal trappings.

Thursday, April 12, 2018

Book Review: Eloquent Rage: A Black Feminist Discovers Her Superpower

Image: The cover of the book has a white background with 4 wide horizontal strokes of yellow paint going down the page. In black capital letters, the top two say "Eloquent Rage" and the bottom two say "Brittney Cooper." In between them in black letters it says "A Black Feminist Discovers Her Superpower." The bottom of the cover says ""Cooper is the Black Feminist Prophet we urgently need." -- MYCHAL DENZEL SMITH"

Brittany Cooper's Eloquent Rage is an appropriately titled collection of essays by one of the founders of Crunk Feminist Collective. I have followed CFC and "Crunktastic's" writings for years and thus looked forward to this book. It did not disappoint. Eloquent Rage is written with grace mixed with blunt honesty about many difficult topics. While I do think that anyone can- and should- read this book and thoroughly enjoy it, this book was written with Black women at the center. Cooper does not spend her time placing whiteness as a reference point for every experience in Black peoples lives. She does not shy away from tough discussions and questions because she did not write the book to pander to the white reader or respectability politics. Cooper's writing style is highly accessible despite her coming from an academic background. She weaves her personal experiences and stories throughout the essays making the book read a bit like a memoir in a good way. The book is highly quotable and entertaining and was easy to settle into.

"Real radicalism implores us to tell the whole ugly truth, even when it is inconvenient. To own the hurt and the pain. To own our shit, too. To think about it systemically and collectively, but never to diminish the import of the trauma."

This quote appears near the very end of the book and sums up well how many of the essays are written. Cooper tackles topics such as Black girl friendships, nonromantic true love, being a southern Black girl in the hood who loved white pop culture items like the babysitter's club, white supremacy manifesting in Black culture, the struggles of being a Black nerd in a predominantly white gifted program, toxic Black masculinity and patriarchy, straight dating while feminist, backing neoliberals as a Black feminist radical, internal conflicts when our desires don't match up with leftist dogma, interracial relationships and abuse, the benefits and pitfalls of Black Christian churches, pop culture feminism vs academic feminism, generation gaps and lessons, and many others with an inviting honesty. 
 
(CONTENT WARNING: Sexual Assault and abuse mentioned)
The essay "White-Girl Tears" tackles so many extremely sensitive topics with nuance and bravery. I have been waiting for a long time for someone to put everything she said in that essay together in a way that hits on all the things at play at the same time. Cooper did this. Discussing things like white tears and femininity as deadly weapons, Black women being forced to choose their race over their gender, white men lynching Black men and raping Black women, Black men raping white women, white men and women lying about rape, interracial consensual relationships, the choice and political nature of who we love and desire, Black womens bodies and lives being used as "practice" for abuse, white women/femininity being seen as a conquest or prize, and many other complicated and/or horrific topics is no easy feat. Until reading Cooper's chapter, I often found discussions of some of these things reductive and leaving me needing more. "White-Girl Tears" had it all and I am eternally grateful for both personal and political reasons for that and all the tough conversations she has continued.
(END CONTENT WARNING)

I did not agree with Cooper on everything. There were a couple times I thought she was too reductive or went too easy on someone, like Hillary Clinton. But, that doesn't mean she won't change my mind. I will be thinking about many of the things she has said in this book and will be coming back to quotes from it time and again. This book is readable, accessible, entertaining, brave, and important. I highly recommend it to anyone of any background because I think everyone can gain something from it.

Friday, April 6, 2018

Book Review: The Intersectionality of Critical Animal, Disability, and Environmental Studies - Toward Eco-ability, Justice, and Liberation

Image: The cover of the book. There are 4 panels on the cover divided by yellow lines. The panel across the top is a picture of an outdoor protest on a city street. A large white banner is centered in the image with red lettering that says "Keep the oil in the ground." The next panel down is hunter green with "Edited by Anthony J. Nocella II, Amber E. George, and J.L. Schatz" in white letters, the main title of the book in yellow capital letters, and the secondary title of the book in white letters. The bottom third is divided into the last two panels situated side-by-side. The left panel is an image of a white cat with black spots who is using a wheelchair outdoors and has their mouth open in mid-meow. The right panel is an image of a beagle, seated with a lead around their mouth attached to a leash and a blue aware ribbon on their neck.

The Intersectionality of Critical Animal, Disability, and Environmental Studies is an academic text that interested me because the blurb describes it as "an interdisciplinary collection of theoretical writings on the intersectional liberation of nonhuman animals, the environment, and those with disabilities." The book does start with a nice dedication "to all of those that have been insulted, shamed, pushed out, and marginalized because of their disabilities within the animal and ecological movements." It is part of a series that claims to link "theory with practice and emphasiz[e] the immense importance of animal advocacy for a humane, democratic, peaceful, and sustainable world." Literature is truly lacking that addresses the intersections and overlaps between disability, environmental, and nonhuman animal struggles so the aim of this book is a noble one. However, I do not think it managed to achieve its goals until after the half way mark. The best chapters in the series by far were those by Sarah Conrad, Sarah Roberts-Cady, and the last one by Amber E. George. Many of the other papers left me wondering if the authors and editors knew what intersectionality was.

The first half of the book has many essays that make the mistake of assuming that parallel suffering is the same as intersectionality. There was generally a lot of, "Animals suffer in these ways. People with disabilities suffer in these other ways," always separating the two categories as if they do not overlap and without showing any meaningful links between the two. As a result of this misunderstanding of what intersectionality is, this a book I would be very cautious handing to someone who is disabled or involved in disability justice work who holds an unfavorable view of how animal and earth liberation movements tokenize disability. Sunaura Taylor's "Beasts of Burden" does a better job and is more accessible. Intersectionality is not about trying to stack oppression to further one's argument. It exists to describe how those dealing with intersecting oppressions in the same body or space are dealing with unique circumstances and struggles that cannot be described simply with, for instance, Black plus woman equals Black woman. Black womanhood is an entirely new experience, not simply a combination of what Black men and white women deal with. Since there is a cat using a wheelchair on the cover, I assumed the intersectionality involving disabled nonhuman animals would be focused on more, but was only mentioned in passing. 


The writings in the anthology do improve as the book progresses. Authors after the halfway mark have a much stronger grasp and better execution of the complex ways that disability animality, ecology, normality, who is considered subhuman, and so on are intertwined in our societies on our planet.  In "(Re)Imaginings of 'Community,'" Mary Ward and John Lupinacci dissect ways in which different activism communities can play into normative dualisms that harm disabled and other marginalized members and also offer solutions and new ways of thinking about problems. Sarah Conrad's "Consider the Spoons" is an excellent and desperately needed critique of the barriers in eco-activism to the inclusion of people dealing with persistent fatigue and other invisible illness and/or disabilities. Conrad offers multiple practical solutions and opens and important dialogue. "Activists are often passionate optimists and idealists. This is what makes activism so powerful... However, these same characteristics can sometimes make activists easily judge... compromising choices that don't reflect a pure and total commitment to the cause." Sarah Roberts-Cady's chapter, "Exploring Eco-Ability" examines a variety of topics but one that stands out is the way in which intellectual ableism is used to marginalize and oppress any group of people that dominant groups deem inferior- both human and nonhuman animals. "Instead of comparing levels of rationality, a more productive way to respond to this injustice is to challenge the underlying assumption that those with greater intellectual capacities may or should subordinate those with less intellectual capacities." Finally, in "Pride or Prejudice?," Amber E. George critiques the portrayal of animals in Looney Tunes, showing how present homophobia, transantagonism, sexism, ableism, racism, and other oppressions were used to create humor. George successfully details the harm caused by regularly exposing the children to such stereotypes.

The second half of this text does fall in line with the stated intentions of the book. I would recommend that people start at page 99 and work forward if they are looking for actual intersectionality and analyses that examine the connections and overlaps of disability, animal, and environmental justice.

Friday, March 23, 2018

Book Review: Invisible: How Young Women with Serious Health Issues Navigate Work, Relationships, and the Pressure to Seem Just Fine

Image: The cover of the book which is a teal blue background with a drawing of a medicine cabinet in the center. The left door of the cabinet is halfway open showing three brown pill bottles. In the yellow reflection on the mirrored doors of the cabinet, there is a blue silhouette of a person from the middle chest up. Above the cabinet, in white letters, it says "Invisible." On the right, closed side of the cabinet in black letters it says, "How young women with serious health issues navigate work, relationships, and the pressure to seem just fine." Below the cabinet, in white letters, it says "Michele Lent Hirsch."

Also posted to my goodreads. 

When I began reading Michele Lent Hirsch's "Invisible: How Young Women with Serious Health Issues Navigate Work, Relationships, and the Pressure to Seem Just Fine," knowing little more about it than the title,  I had certain expectations. I expected to be let down. As a trans and Queer disabled person, I am used to reading books about healthcare that do not include people like me and my friends. I figured I would get something out of it nonetheless and gave it a go. This is the first book of this kind that I have read- that was not specifically about LGBTQ populations- that didn't let me down. Hirsch worked very hard to include ALL women dealing with disability and illness: Queer women, trans women, women of color, poor women, scientist women, women doctors, young girls, teen girls, invisibly disabled women, wheelchair using women, and also the usual cisgender heterosexual white populations these books always include. I am a transmasculine person, am 35 years old, and have dealt with chronic illnesses from childhood. I have spent most of my medical interactions read as a girl and woman or as a testosterone-taking trans person who is too sick for surgeries and still has an "F" on their chart. As a result, I related to many things in this book, even though I am not necessarily the target demographic. Many things hit home so much that I actually had to take my time reading, despite wanting to devour the book quickly. The welcome validation reading an author who was a fellow Queer person, a fellow thyroid cancer survivor, a fellow chronic pain sufferer, whose experiences of surgeries, accessing care, fear, self-doubt, and general discrimination often mirrored mine so closely, was also very difficult at times. Now that you know where I was situated as a reader, enough about me.

Hirsch is an excellent writer. Her book is part memoir, part interview, and part research project. It is well organized and accessible. She weaves her own story seamlessly in and out through the different topics navigated. The book does an excellent job centering it's general target- the experiences of younger women while navigating health struggles- and also manages to hit on a great many specific intersections with age and gender. These include practitioner racism as a barrier for Black and other people of color receiving healthcare, gendered romantic relationships and how they relate to someone receiving support, class struggles labeling working class people as less ill and therefore less in need of care, capitalism's relationship to poor womens healthcare, how being a trans woman intersects with receiving healthcare for non-trans related issues, the difficulty of people with rarer conditions or in isolated areas being able to leave abusive doctors, the struggles of women with chronic illness to access reproductive healthcare, the measure of sick women by their proximity to stereotypical beauty, and many others. 

Hirsch understands deeply something so many books like hers miss: that all women's experiences are NOT the same just because they are women, young, or sick. Race, class, visibility, gender expression, geographic location, and many other factors are always at play simultaneously. "Invisible" is written with great intentionality from beginning to end. It is clear that Hirsch gave a lot of thought to how to present issues, how to question people, and how to share stories while also giving people the freedom to have their own opinions and assessments about their personal experiences. The way Hirsch uses language to describe illness, disability, experiences in healthcare, and womens lives comes from a well informed and educated place of respect. There was obviously a great deal of research that went into writing this book. I probably added more books to my to-read list from the sources she listed than I have from any other book I have read.

I do have two negative criticisms to make of the book. One is something that really disappointed me because of how amazingly inclusive and radical the rest of the book is. Near the end of the book, Hirsch interviews two animal researchers. They explain how their abuse and killing of female animals is "feminist." There is no way that forcing female animals to get addicted to drugs, then killing and disposing of them like trash, is feminist. The appropriate response to one oppression is never to deliberately harm someone with less power to get ahead. I found calling horrific mistreatment of female animals "feminism" to be incredibly insulting. Many feminist women have written excellent books about the connections between the abuse of nonhuman animals and the abuse of women so I will not reinvent the wheel by saying more here. The other criticism I have which I am far less perturbed by was that Hirsch repeatedly used the word "femme" as a stand-in for "feminine" often in reference to cis straight women. Femme is a LGBTQ identity specific to Queer femininity. Using it to describe straight cis women further erases Queer femmes and appropriates their identity. While I feel very negatively about the way animal testing was handled by this book, the section was very short and the rest of the book still far exceeded my expectations. As a result, it still gets 5 stars from me because nothing is perfect.

I really hope that this book attracts a large number of women with disability, illness, and/or frequent healthcare interactions who may not have thought about all of these intersecting issues before. I hope that this book feels validating for others who are used to their experiences being absent in discussions of health and healthcare. I hope that it brings the personal validation that it brought to me while reading it while simultaneously connecting us to struggles we may not personally have or experience. Hirsch took on a monumental task in hitting on so many issues in such a small space. It's 240 pages but it felt like 100 because it flows very well. I look forward to new things coming from Hirsch in the future and I definitely recommend this book to anyone working in healthcare or related fields. It should be mandatory reading for doctors and nurses.

Tuesday, February 27, 2018

Book Review: How We Get Free- Black Feminism and the Combahee River Collective

[Image: The cover of the book which is a cream colored background with a large black dot stamped in the center of the book. Inside the dot, it says "how we get free" in capital letters, followed by a white line underneath, and under the line "black feminism and the combahee river collective" in smaller white letters. The bottom of the cover says "edited by Keeanga-Yamahtta Taylor" in black capital letters.]
How We Get Free: Black Feminism and the Combahee River Collective is a set of interviews with Black feminist women, many of whom are queer or lesbian, that spans multiple generations. The book includes an introduction from the editor- Keeanga-Yamahtta Taylor, the original Combahee River Collective Statement, interviews by Taylor with Barbara Smith, Beverly Smith, Demita Frazier, and Alicia Garza, and is closed out with comments by Barbara Ransby from a 2017 socialism conference.

One of the more interesting things in this book that surprised me was that, as far as the contributors know, the Combahee River Collective Statement is the first time the phrase "identity politics" was used. However, in this statement, "identity politics" did not mean what many have reduced it to today- as some form of oppression olympics or single-issue privilege dynamics. What CRC meant by "identity politics" was much closer to what Kimberle Crenshaw later coined as "intersectionality." They were discussing the worlds of Black women, including queer Black women, and how Black feminism represents lived experiences that cannot be placed into boxes of Black or woman or Black plus woman. Also, back when the statement was written, the phrase "women of color" was not in play and CRC referred to themselves as "third world women" in global solidarity. This book made me think a lot about how these words and descriptions being changed has changed how we look at things. It almost seems as if these descriptors have become pacified over time in some ways.

Another interesting thing I found was the critique of modern day [what some people are mis-naming identity politics] where people are taught or believe they don't have a place or purpose in the struggle if they are not a member of the oppressed group being centered in that struggle. Barbara Smith (and others) emphasized the critical need to "[cross] boundaries and [work] across differences." Do not mistake this for ignoring differences are refusing to focus on certain things- Alicia Garza speaks frequently of the problem with people constantly trying to change "Black Lives Matter" into "All Lives Matter," "Brown Lives Matter," and "Black and Brown Lives Matter:" "I know your shit is fucked up, too, but can we just talk about Black people?" Crossing boundaries and working across differences is critical and still allows the complete freedom to focus on Black people or whoever else is centered at the moment.

All of the interviews catalogue interesting and important struggles in Black feminist history that are required reading for anyone who considers themself a feminist. They also showed struggles that repeat over time such as Black women being forced to do most of the organizing labor while getting little to none of the recognition, Black queer and trans people being excluded and/or erased, and the constant push-back against Black feminist ideals and organizing despite the reality that fighting for the most marginalized will always help everyone.

My only criticism of this book is that the interviews read as if they are a direct paste of full transcriptions from an audio recording which made settling into the book distracting and difficult at times. Taylor's introduction, writing, and interview questions were all excellent. However, I believe these interviews should have been edited to both flow better and perhaps reduce some of the text. I think that a lot of someone's thought or what they are saying can be lost when it is written with sentences repeatedly broken in half with "Mmhm... yeah.... uh huh... [laughs]" over and over. I think the interviews could have kept their conversational flair and still represented the speaking styles and personalities of the interviewees without including every interruption to what they were saying.

This book is definitely a must read for anyone interested in the history of feminism- as we all should be- especially the center and roots so often ignored that so often lead the way for many of the things we have today. How We Get Free is a great catalogue of stories by the powerful women who have lead and continue to lead the way for social justice. It is a great celebration of the 40-year anniversary of the Combahee River Collective Statement.

Sunday, February 11, 2018

Book Review: The Body is Not an Apology - The Power of Radical Self Love

[Image: The cover of the book has a glittering purple background with Sonya Renee Taylor (the author) laying on her back in the center on a bed of blue, yellow-orange, and red flowers. She has a bald head, dark brown skin, purple eyeshadow, red lipstick, and a monroe piercing (which is a stud abuve her upper lip.) She is staring at the camera with one hand draped above her head and her nipples and pubic area are covered with purple flowers. A white Band across the center of the cover says "THE BODY IS NOT AN APOLOGY" in black capitalized letters and "THE POWER OF RADICAL SELF LOVE" underneath in smaller, orange capitalized letters.]

Also posted to my goodreads


This little book manages to be quite an inclusive guide and radical self love manifesto, especially for its size.  Sonya Renee Taylor wrote her book with all kinds of people in mind- especially those predominantly left out of many self-love conversations- and she makes this clear regularly throughout the text. She catalogues a bit about her journey towards creating The Body Is Not An Apology website, and then delves into tackling radical self love as an attainable concept and lifelong journey.

Taylor differentiates between radical self love and concepts such as self-esteem or self-acceptance, seeing the latter two as a "cease fire" with one's body. She invites us to seek out something more rewarding than a "truce" and that is radical self love. This involves things like tackling shame and guilt as well as creating a world that is supportive of all bodies- including those often pushed into the margins such as disabled people, trans people, people of color, and others.


Taylor also explains much of the indoctrination and abuse against us and our bodies in this world as all part of a system of "body terrorism," which I believe is a term coined by the author and her organization (correct me if I am wrong.)  I believe she did an excellent job of explaining just how entrenched toxic default societal expectations of how to have a body are in our culture. We are taught our entire lives that the "right" body is white, thin (but not too thin,) healthy, young, non-disabled, cis, heterosexual, and so on. Radical self love is for everyone- even including those who meet all of those characteristics, as this "ideal" is never attainable. Taylor teaches us that we must stand up for all bodies targeted by body terrorism- even if they are not our own- because, "When our personal value is dependent on the lesser value of other bodies, radical self-love is unachievable."

Where I found Taylor going above and beyond many "body positive" thinkers do was the way she talked about health: "Equally damaging is our insistence that all bodies should be healthy. Health is not a state we owe the world. We are not less valuable, worthy, or lovable because we are not healthy. Lastly, there is no standard of health that is achievable for all bodies." This was a nice and more radical break from the "but fat/disabled/trans/etc people are normal and healthy!" trope that I often see that- while very well-intentioned and existing for obvious reasons as a response to oppressive pathologizing- tend to leave out those of us who aren't healthy. It was nice to see someone acknowledge that people dealing with chronic illness or other health issues fit into the equation of radical self-love.

Even though this book is super radical and comprehensive, it is also exceedingly kind, patient, and loving. It continuously encourages the reader to keep going, to allow for and recover from mistakes, and to continue growing. It is a short read and a great companion to anyone interested in existing more comfortably in this world and especially at one with their body.

Monday, February 5, 2018

Book Review: When They Call You A Terrorist - A Black Lives Matter Memoir

[Image: The book cover which is an abstract painting of reds, orange, pink, and a little blue smeared all over. The title is written in in white lowercase letters, "when they call you a terrorist a black lives matter memoir." Below that in black lowercase letters the authors are listed "patrisse khan-cullors & asha bandele with a foreward by angela davis."]

Also posted to my goodreads

It is only February, but I can say without a doubt that "When They Call You a Terrorist" is one of the best and most important books of 2018. In fact, I woulld stretch that out to say this entire century. The book lists both Patrisse Khan-Cullors and Asha Bandele as authors, but the memoir itself is Khan-Cullors's story and life. I do not know how the process of writing went, but I can say that the writing in this book is phenomenal. It allows the reader to seamlessly enter the story and understand the pain caused by white supremacy, poverty, addiction, mental illness, police brutality, the prison industrial complex, and many other attacks on the lives of Black and other marginalized people. It also captures the love, comradery, forgiveness, and resilience shown by many who are facing down the worst odds. The beginning of all chapters are peppered with appropriately corresponding quotes from some of the greatest writers and thinkers such as James Baldwin and Octavia Butler.

I could see this book benefiting someone with a similar life to Khan-Cullors or someone as different as an ignorant white republican who says "all lives matter" when someone says Black lives do. Perhaps I am being too idealistic, but I can't imagine how anyone could willingly read this book and not close it out with a visceral support for and better understanding of Black Lives Matter and other related movements and the atrocities that inspired them.

 "Twelve... was the year I learned that being Black and poor definied me more than being bright and hopeful and ready."

The prose in this book comes from writers with a multifaceted passion, able to build vivid worlds out of words. Memoirs aren't usually my thing, but this one definitely is. This book is not only an exquisitely written life and love-of-Black-life story, but also a manifesto for a better world. Skillfully woven throughout Khan-Cullors's story are statements about the world at large, statistics about these statements, and clear reasoning for actions taken and those that need to be taken. The book conveys the specific life experiences of Khan-Cullors which include poverty, abuse, a sibling who struggles with psychosis, multiple family members serving long prison sentences for mild nonviolent offenses (or not offense at all,) midnight raids while she and a partner lie asleep in bed, near constant police harrassment and severe police violence against multiple people in her life, loss of friends due to queerantagonism and misogyny, as well as huge and successful anti-racist and prison abolition organizing efforts, love and loss and love again, building new family and community, and a great many other successes against all odds. At the same time, the book captures the big picture of how all of these experiences fit into larger systems in a larger world and offers a variety of ways to understand and combat these systems.

"...there are no stats to track collateral deaths (as a result of police violence,) the ones that unfold over months and years spent in mourning and grief: the depression that becomes addiction to alcohol that become cirrhosis; or else addiction to food that becomes diabetes that becomes a stroke. Slow deaths. Undocumented deaths. Deaths with a common root: the hatred that tells a person daily that their life and the life of those they love ain't worth shit, a truth made ever more real when the people who harm you are never held accountable."

Khan-Cullors and Bandele also do well to make clear how Queer Black women were at the center of these organizing efforts- particularly BLM but also many others. Men have remained centered in much reporting Black Lives Matter. There is a long history of (often but not always straight cis) men silencing Queer women at the center of movements like these. This book is a clear antidote to that.  I hope that people will read this book as it is such an incredibly important and informative relic of our time. I believe it tells the past, present, and future. I hope it is a book we look back upon one day as an example of a critically important time in our history. If I hadn't already experienced the white supremacist patriarchal travesty that is public school system history class curriculums, I would say that I hope this book ends up being taught in high school. But, according to this book, maybe I deserve that hope:

"We say we deserve another knowing, the knowing that comes when you assume your life will be long, will be vibrant, will be healthy. We deserve to imagine a world without prisons and punishment, a world where they are not needed, a world rooted in mutuality. We deserve to at least aim for that."


Black Lives Matter.