Month: July 2020

I didn’t get as much reading done in June as I had hoped. I think I need to be better at using reading to fill time rather than scrolling the internet. But still, some good reads. I spent much of my June reading life thinking about the advantages that I have and how hard it must be to navigate in a world in which you don’t fit into the dominant image of what a successful person looks like.

White Fragility by Robin D’Angelo – (6h 22m). I had placed this book on my holds list months ago, and ironically it came off my holds list the day George Floyd was killed. I have mixed feelings about this book in that I feel like the people who are likely to read it, probably are those who are already open to its ideas, and thus least likely to need to read it. The concept of the book feels a little like “preaching to the choir.” Also, D’Angelo defines “racism” and “white supremacy” in a way that neutralizes them, I think in an attempt to make them inclusive terms rather than divisive terms. I’m not sure that rhetoric works, though.

Reading this book is likely to be a very personal experience, and I don’t know that it’s a book one should recommend that others read- you kind of have to come to it yourself. I’m not white, but a lot of what D’Angelo writes about does hit home for me both as a POC and as a “model minority”. What I found compelling is how she asks us to recognize white as a race, recognize the implications of there being a dominant culture in this country, and recognize that those in the minority cannot enact change without the help of those in power. I wanted the book to be more useful than it was, though, I guess that actionable items was not the point of the book. It is meant to be a starting point. There was a great reading/ resource list at the back of the book, however.

The Westing Game by Ellen Raskin – (time – didn’t track). I remember my brother reading this book when we were little and he raved about it. It was a smart, fun read. More timely than I would have expected.

Red at the Bone by Jacqueline Woodson – (3h 31 mins). This time/narrative bending book about three black families in Brooklyn was another hold that came through at a opportune point. Interestingly my friend was talking to me about the Tulsa race riots the day before I started reading this, and the Tulsa race riots played a formative part of the life of one family in this book. Indeed, I think a lot of this book is about how our past influences and informs our present, no matter how much we think we can strike out on our own and leave our family behind. At the same time, it is difficult to overcome generations of systemic racism and challenges without other people having faith in you. As always, when I read books, the way parenthood plays out in them resonate with me the most. I loved this quote, the father’s thoughts at a coming of age ceremony, and the encapsulation of the passage of time and stages:

“But what is the father of the child supposed to do with his hands? His big open hands. Where were they supposed to go when all they wanted was to reach out for his child, hug her, hide her from the world? These hands that learned at seventeen how to snatch smelly diapers away from her tiny body, rub A&D ointment over her rashed behind, hold her util the stinging stopped, until the crying stopped. Hold her- over his shoulder with his massive hand behind her fragile head, then on his chest, in his lap, in his arms, on his back, on his shoulders, his hand on her shoulder as she scooted too fast away from him….”

Erotic Stories for Punjabi Widows by Balli Kaur Jaswal, narrated by Meera Sayal – Audiobook. Fun listen, though probably a little more racy than I expected, given that I listen to audiobooks a lot around my children. But the plot, involving a woman who gets a job teaching English at her local Sikh community center, alternates heavy and light, ultimately leaning towards heavy. I liked the characters and how the book addresses the invisibility and frustration of older women.

Shrill: Notes from a Loud Woman by Lindy West – (4h, 39m). Funny, but also sad and infuriating. West’s writing – about being fat, about feminism, about how dehumanizing society can be to people who don’t fit a certain mold, namely white and ideally male – is raw, powerful, dramatic, visceral. It was interesting to read Lindy Wests’s book in the current racially charged climate. Much like how racism is rooted in systematic oppression by a dominant culture, there are really strong societal prejudices against people who are overweight that put them at an incredible disadvantage. From concrete things like how things are not built to accommodate large people, and indeed there is no incentive for companies to change that, to the more subtle messaging about how overweight people are undesirable. She also writes some really powerful stuff about the white male culture of comedy and the misogyny it perpetuates. She writes for a more inclusive world, for freedom of choice, for society choosing to be better. It’s a really good book.

“The only answer is decide we’re worth helping.”