Rachel G. (roach808) -
Disclaimer 1: I was given a copy from the publisher through GoodReads giveaways.
Disclaimer 2: I am a white woman.
I put my name in for this because it sounded like the kind of read that someone who's working on their allyship could benefit from. And, I agree. Though it isn't written for white people, I appreciated the way that Lewis-Giggetts talked about trauma in some really eloquent and also creative ways.
Another key takeaway that I found helpful was to frequently reference that Blackness is not monolithic. There are nuances galore that mean no one person can speak for everyone else; and yet . . . yet, there's still this need for a book that gives a group of people permission to seek, experience, and feel joy because there is a collective experience that has made this a challenge. It's a hard thing to write a book for a wide audience and also point out that it can't be everything for everyone. Overall, Lewis-Giggetts did a nice job with this balance.
Another thing I enjoyed was how she spoke about her hometown of Louisville. I didn't know this before hand and while I didn't identify with everything she talked about in relationship to that; growing up in Kentucky, where I no longer live, I felt connections as she talked about that indelible thread that keeps you drawn to where you grew up.
From the essay The Right Kind of Chili, "There isn't one way to be Black. Yet, at that same time, I'm incredibly curious about the thread that binds those collective differences together. The thing that makes Blackness so identifiable no matter where you are in this country or the world. And Lord knows, it can't just be struggle. Our struggle cannot be the sole thing cementing our identity and linking me to other Black folks across the Diaspora."
And again, I'm reviewing it, because I'm supposed to, but this is not a guide for white people to learn how to be allies. That's not to say there isn't an aspect of this book that includes it; but this is a personal collection of essays. It's current and relevant (#pandemiclife) and is admittedly her own story. While this isn't a keeper-on-the-shelf for me, it is absolutely a passer-on-er.
Disclaimer 2: I am a white woman.
I put my name in for this because it sounded like the kind of read that someone who's working on their allyship could benefit from. And, I agree. Though it isn't written for white people, I appreciated the way that Lewis-Giggetts talked about trauma in some really eloquent and also creative ways.
Another key takeaway that I found helpful was to frequently reference that Blackness is not monolithic. There are nuances galore that mean no one person can speak for everyone else; and yet . . . yet, there's still this need for a book that gives a group of people permission to seek, experience, and feel joy because there is a collective experience that has made this a challenge. It's a hard thing to write a book for a wide audience and also point out that it can't be everything for everyone. Overall, Lewis-Giggetts did a nice job with this balance.
Another thing I enjoyed was how she spoke about her hometown of Louisville. I didn't know this before hand and while I didn't identify with everything she talked about in relationship to that; growing up in Kentucky, where I no longer live, I felt connections as she talked about that indelible thread that keeps you drawn to where you grew up.
From the essay The Right Kind of Chili, "There isn't one way to be Black. Yet, at that same time, I'm incredibly curious about the thread that binds those collective differences together. The thing that makes Blackness so identifiable no matter where you are in this country or the world. And Lord knows, it can't just be struggle. Our struggle cannot be the sole thing cementing our identity and linking me to other Black folks across the Diaspora."
And again, I'm reviewing it, because I'm supposed to, but this is not a guide for white people to learn how to be allies. That's not to say there isn't an aspect of this book that includes it; but this is a personal collection of essays. It's current and relevant (#pandemiclife) and is admittedly her own story. While this isn't a keeper-on-the-shelf for me, it is absolutely a passer-on-er.
