Between the World and Me

It’s hard to admit that I was afraid to read Between the World and Me. When Ta-Nehisi Coates’s essay was published in 2015 I’d heard Coates on Where We Live that spring and by the time a friend in my bookclub suggested we read Between the World and Me that fall, I stiffened at the possibility of feeling responsible for the racism, violence, and oppression I’d been so horrified to watch unfolding in the news all summer. One of the things that made me feel nervous and scared was Coates’s claim that trying to become “a little bit more enlightened” was not enough. If that wasn’t enough then what could I do?

On a personal level, the biggest change since 2015 is that I have a son. I’ve been thinking a lot about what it means to be a mother to a son, what it means to raise a young man in America in 2018, and part of that means confronting questions about race. (To be clear, this is part of being a citizen of the United States in 2018, not just a mother or a mother of a son.)

Anyway, I listened to Coates read the book. The writing is beautiful, the argument at times uncomfortable (at least for well-intentioned white women like me), That’s the a point of reading, though. I’m trying to read more things that make me uncomfortable because that’s something it’s easy to stop doing once you’re reading in the wild and have the freedom to engage selectively.

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