tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-54420587777323563232024-03-13T15:29:57.806-04:00Tayé Foster Bradshaw's BookshelfCelebrating Black Women's Literary WorksTayé Foster Bradshawhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01896370484155841534noreply@blogger.comBlogger117125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5442058777732356323.post-41475880788040274452023-01-23T09:17:00.000-05:002023-01-23T09:17:16.055-05:00Our Gen by Diane McKinney-Whetstone<p>Motown and Staxx Records and Soul Train Dancers and afros and bellbottoms and dashikis and Power-to-the-People and going from Negro-to-Black and Angela Davis and possibilities...all that was the teenage/college years of the folks we meet in this hilarious book of life still in life.</p><p>It is a contemporary novel with several sexagenarians who are grabbling with the changes of life, looking back over the ways they have traveled, dealing with old secrets and coming to terms with them, saying hello and saying goodbye, they are still in the vibrancy of life, even if they have a few grays with it.</p><p>This is the story of Cynthia and Tish and Lavia and Bloc and all the characters we meet along the way at a 55+ Retirement community that opens with Cynthia reluctantly becoming a resident. After age catches up with her abilities to be a widow in a mansion, her son and his wife convince her to buy one of the condos in this independent living community of fellow Baby Boomers.</p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2CKJJpLVrFnjxnRt46cQBtgiYmCv7w_Nmu4_xUPH4_ZS3IT149Fq6ugkKJ22k2Xtr6uT4ArVKgQCE9tT7YpdMGtYUONF_-YSUgux0WzlF8X_qaa1hKZd50Mvyh75ODHeTOxVf92hZCUYemEOX1Nbn1XiGjtis4ZtXxUrUXY0cTJGKn0kMA0PsHgsK/s4032/4BD9C3E6-4C02-423F-A746-14F9F508C346.heic" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2CKJJpLVrFnjxnRt46cQBtgiYmCv7w_Nmu4_xUPH4_ZS3IT149Fq6ugkKJ22k2Xtr6uT4ArVKgQCE9tT7YpdMGtYUONF_-YSUgux0WzlF8X_qaa1hKZd50Mvyh75ODHeTOxVf92hZCUYemEOX1Nbn1XiGjtis4ZtXxUrUXY0cTJGKn0kMA0PsHgsK/s320/4BD9C3E6-4C02-423F-A746-14F9F508C346.heic" width="240" /></a></div>We meet the rest of the crew who will ultimately become friends-like-family. Tish is the lively one who ran away from her real name to become everyone's favorite auntie and socialite. Lavia is the racially ambiguous exotic seafaring one who grew up on cruise ships to ultimately become one who can dig deep to find answers, Bloc is the quietly wounded knowing one who comes to terms with what he escaped to find what he needed. <p></p><p>It is told in the post-2016 era of when our views of the world shifted with heightened racial, gender, and identity animus, those familiar moments come up in the novel to place these still-dancing, partying, and vibrant "senior citizens" as people we all know. We see them in our churches, may hurry past them if they are walking too slowly to the subway, smile, but, mostly when one is young, one is like Cynthia's son, wanting to not worry about the aging parents and wanting to "put them somewhere safe," so they can go on with life.</p><p>My own parents are no longer living, my father was a sexagenarian when he whispered away and my mother passed away when I was only four, so I was never in the position of caring for older parents. It is likely a position one of my five children will face in the coming decades when the passing of time and the grace of the Creator allows me to be like those in this story.</p><p>The gift of it is that it breaks through this Americanism of only seeing the young as relevant. These people have hopes and dreams, date - there is plenty of that in these retirement communities, and still want to discover something new about themselves and the world around them.</p><p>I'm not that age - yet - but when I do reach it, I hope to be surrounded by love and laughter like Diane McKinney-Whetstone infused in this fun romp around with the Baby Boomers.</p><span><br /><br /><a name='more'></a></span><p>©2023 by Antona B. Smith, all rights reserved.</p><p>Hanging out in Connecticut, sipping a latte, looking out at the future, and hoping for just as much laughter.</p>Tayé Foster Bradshawhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18402958583375060035noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5442058777732356323.post-77417693020825592822023-01-19T17:42:00.003-05:002023-01-19T17:42:50.390-05:00Advanced Reader Review - Trinity by Zelda Lockhart<p> The gift of Black Bookstagram is that I've been able to connect with some of my favorite authors.</p><p>I've been reading and review works by Black women for over a decade. Zelda Lockhart's work, Fifth Born, is one of the earliest reviews. The book haunted me, challenged me, and motivated me.</p><p>Dr. Lockhart is back with another offering that will haunt, challenge, and motivate you.</p><p>I rarely center men's stories in my work, staying true to my lane of working on writings for, by, and about Black women, but when she and I connected over the possibility of a pre-read, I jumped at the chance to consider a time in our history, before the Civil Rights Era, and what it meant to be Black in America.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipwgVYuhxtoEaYI6I5AkXm36rG4L49oV1uVOTuPCQ2G52zAUDrNx0ZuMQb7sbTAIA5_yrFzt9w8t2ccvPAVefgDmA6VpG2Qcjvan39QH8uXtf9DpHs-qNCX-pvrISHCMuJS7nFWDSQG2L3CqF4cqHfGzmbdg6LqYjtMRoQWhcW6Pmy8VZRnLPdjM5I/s4032/49866E82-BD94-4D2F-A0B0-77A4D14C866E.heic" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipwgVYuhxtoEaYI6I5AkXm36rG4L49oV1uVOTuPCQ2G52zAUDrNx0ZuMQb7sbTAIA5_yrFzt9w8t2ccvPAVefgDmA6VpG2Qcjvan39QH8uXtf9DpHs-qNCX-pvrISHCMuJS7nFWDSQG2L3CqF4cqHfGzmbdg6LqYjtMRoQWhcW6Pmy8VZRnLPdjM5I/s320/49866E82-BD94-4D2F-A0B0-77A4D14C866E.heic" width="240" /></a></div><p></p><p>Told in the voices of the unborn and through the experiences of young Black men finding their way, she threads the needle of the AfroAtlantic experiences in enslavement, Jim Crow, and quests for freedom.</p><p>The girl-finally-born is actually an ancient MotherSpirit who was trying for centuries to come through this family line to connect them with their true heritage as African peoples, despite the atrocities of enslavement and mistreatment in fighting this country's wars, she emerges with seven generations of seeing and healing.</p><p>The twists and turns of this story will anger you, I wrote in my notes how often Black women suffer at the hands of Black men's pains, but ultimately saw the scared little boys who had to stand anyway. It is not a hotepian novel of redemption, but it is a humanizing story of healing the men from the forgotten wars of Korean and Vietnam, who walk among us wounded from the sins of racism.</p><p>The women in this story try to hold it together, even as they navigate through their own hurts because of this unholy system. They try to mother the unmotherable, try to love themselves when it seems all others don't, try to figure out a way of being - in spite of, try to protect themselves and their sons when they were unprotected, and tried to use words, stories, and even bookclubs to make sense of it all. </p><p>The women journey to beginnings of beginnings to help themselves and the ones they love. Knowing that the keeper of all the stories rests in that mother of mothers, Zelda Lockhart invites us to take a long look through choices we make in love, in identity, and in remembering.<br /></p><p>My personal resonance is that my late father was a Korean War Veteran. I am a native of St. Louis, Missouri so the connections to the later migrations to that region were hopeful. My husband was a former administrator at what is now Harris-Stowe State University. I smiled through the middle class yearnings that are still a part of University City. </p><p>This book comes out in July 2023 and will be an important addition to the narrative of American history from the men who were denied the promises of the GI Bill, denied their land and housing, had lives and promises stolen from them. Human despair always shows up in self-destructive ways, but through the woman spirit finally born, she brings the wholeness desperately needed to claim a future that belongs to them all. </p><p>If we journey through the painful parts and recognize the origins of who we really are, despite rhetoric of un-being, we can reach through love to find peace in a place to call home.</p><p>_____________________________________________________________________________________</p><p>©2023, All Rights Reserved, Tayé Foster Bradshaw is reading and sipping a latte in Connecticut </p>Tayé Foster Bradshawhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18402958583375060035noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5442058777732356323.post-42717292384703449932022-12-08T10:46:00.001-05:002022-12-08T10:46:07.477-05:00Walking Gentry Home: A Memoir of My Foremothers in Verse by Alora Young<p> If you are alike me and enjoy reading, you are excited to discover new voices in the genres you review.</p><p>Such was the case on a crisp and clear Saturday when my husband and I decided to drive up to Mystic, CT to hang out in the quaint coastal town. We are avid supporters of small businesses and since it was our first holiday season as empty nesters, we thought, why not.</p><p>Of course, we both were drawn to the local bookstore, Bank Square Books. It was on the corner of the busy shopping district, all filled with independent stores. The traffic flow in the store invited browsing and a bit of discovery.</p><p>I was pleasantly surprised to find quite a few Black and African American titles from which to choose. </p><p>Walking Gentry Home was facing out and I felt drawn to the subtle beauty of the cover art. Given that it was about Black girls becoming Black women, I wanted to support the young writer.</p><p>Writing a story in verse has been a new area that I've reviewed and taught in my literary circle. It has nuances that perhaps a narrative memoir would miss.</p><p>Alora Young is a promising writer who has room to develop her voice and come into her full being.</p><p>The beautiful parts of this debut are that she pays homage to her foremothers, has divided her work into six parts that coincide with major timeframes in Black life. In this work, she has developed a yearning voice for all the little Black girls who grew up in forgotten towns.</p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCgX81N8Ihxtj_m3c72GyQIrfsCXZikMp2b5E9P6x7BO1FJqDM5bBCiuwBAGB1I_8AFvtlHNDLDOUhDfR3Xg-5wa-KPMmGQAQvhzKfSgN-QRG8AOCLwQQALjn4sPaz97QjtD3BodMNuL_a3AJxMqGGEWzR8M3mREgZiHFfRuHZoNiWndZzOR_iSAwq/s4032/E76AB9F1-B4FB-4237-9883-D6BF016A0AF2.heic" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCgX81N8Ihxtj_m3c72GyQIrfsCXZikMp2b5E9P6x7BO1FJqDM5bBCiuwBAGB1I_8AFvtlHNDLDOUhDfR3Xg-5wa-KPMmGQAQvhzKfSgN-QRG8AOCLwQQALjn4sPaz97QjtD3BodMNuL_a3AJxMqGGEWzR8M3mREgZiHFfRuHZoNiWndZzOR_iSAwq/s320/E76AB9F1-B4FB-4237-9883-D6BF016A0AF2.heic" width="240" /></a></div><br />She has a few beautifully written pieces in this volume of 122 poems/verses/thoughts that begin with "Mothers, TN, Many Many Generations" and concludes with "I'm Still Walking" on page 209. It is admirable and inspiring the this college student brought forth this work that seems fitting for Gen Z that came of age in the midst of protest and pain.<p></p><p>To me, the beautiful offering of this work is that several of these pieces can be inspiring while others, like the young writer herself, seem unfinished and unknowing.</p><p>Perhaps that is what it means to look back over the generations of ones life and not know an origin, origin, but have a place where oppression and opportunity tried to co-exist in Black women bodies, where Love and hope try to reside, anyway, in Hall and everywhere.</p><p></p><blockquote><i><span style="color: #800180; font-size: medium;"> "Black womanhood is being asked to bring gifts to parties you were never invited to. It's lighting everyone's candles with the fire alight in you. It's standing in solidarity with women who didn't fight for you. Because you know what oppression feels like. And I think that God just might Love Like Black women do."</span></i> </blockquote><p></p><p>Read this book. Hold it in conversation with other young Black and Brown women who have taken to verse to tell their story. </p><p>They are speaking.</p><p><u> </u></p><p>©2022. Taye Foster Bradshaw Group. All Rights Reserved.</p>Tayé Foster Bradshawhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18402958583375060035noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5442058777732356323.post-127885109690621962022-11-29T11:47:00.003-05:002022-11-29T11:47:40.802-05:00Literary Non Fiction: Black Women Will Save The World: An Anthem by April Ryan<p><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMJj4K65hrd77oAhM29abB0t2KOM6mTXJ1YXNmXLb1o8G066hJS6L6lNK-oKn5TM4162l_zTdqAtRCWXXOzwjzwq3MJgm7AdqgD-MgIUCVdp-eYjIRUz6CyuAph7KSwOIXSkPyMDQoAyXOmpVyiMrpDZ-kMhGwWvfT1qDfcDPGqK-OsZBXomi74n_m/s1800/D6C9D1F0-B505-405A-BC49-FE960973E6A0.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1800" data-original-width="1440" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMJj4K65hrd77oAhM29abB0t2KOM6mTXJ1YXNmXLb1o8G066hJS6L6lNK-oKn5TM4162l_zTdqAtRCWXXOzwjzwq3MJgm7AdqgD-MgIUCVdp-eYjIRUz6CyuAph7KSwOIXSkPyMDQoAyXOmpVyiMrpDZ-kMhGwWvfT1qDfcDPGqK-OsZBXomi74n_m/s320/D6C9D1F0-B505-405A-BC49-FE960973E6A0.jpeg" width="256" /></a></div><br /> I was drawn by the cover art and picked up this book from one of my favorite booksellers. Being an avid bibliophile and one whose literary and scholarly work has centered Black women's voices, I was drawn by the hope and resilience of the cover and of course, April Ryan.<p></p><p>This book was written for Black women, yes, but it seemed that it was written to the rest of America to get them to realize a four hundred year old truth.</p><p>April Ryan is a noted journalist, an African American woman who endured the most vile comments from the orange menace when she was the only Black person in the White House Press Corp during that tumultuous time from 2016-2020. To say that she went through it was an understatement. </p><p>In some ways, this work, much like a few others, was autobiographical and a quest to heal oneself of the trauma of being Black+woman+professional in a world that still refuses to hear our voices.</p><p>In nine short digestible chapters with many quote-worthy lines, April Ryan invites us to consider the ways that Black women have shown up for a country that still refuses to see our personhood.</p><p>She recounts the contributions of an all-star list of women from Supreme Court Justice Ketanji Brown Jackson to Voting Rights Champion Stacey Abrams to Vice President Kamala Harris to the co-founder of GirlTrek, Vanessa Garrison. In calling the role, as we used to say in church, she places these women in the important understanding of the ways the collective work of Black women has moved us toward being a more humane country, even as we have so far to go.</p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8R7SugsDEMkpl02AeHav7z9GOa0duIoisZoUqZ4kXb4uUDpQYsBbtB7tBMoyPtOQOre217VAW20fblBBgO5I0bf2botuBd5_SZZ8CkBCaobsdFgQQd1zl7Hb1eP-Aev8GqLs85n1GSA6_-XzMUv3S4f0OmyHBJs44TlYRA5sFSVwfHJa2fNCIm_vp/s4032/E33F95BC-2E5F-44DC-9324-8A7649AB2982.heic" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8R7SugsDEMkpl02AeHav7z9GOa0duIoisZoUqZ4kXb4uUDpQYsBbtB7tBMoyPtOQOre217VAW20fblBBgO5I0bf2botuBd5_SZZ8CkBCaobsdFgQQd1zl7Hb1eP-Aev8GqLs85n1GSA6_-XzMUv3S4f0OmyHBJs44TlYRA5sFSVwfHJa2fNCIm_vp/s320/E33F95BC-2E5F-44DC-9324-8A7649AB2982.heic" width="240" /></a></div>This book does not end with a claim that it has solved the issues she highlights from the ways Black girls have been "adultified" to the still enduring health challenges Black women face for simply not being heard in our medical visits. Instead, she ends with a call-to-action for those who claim to be allies, for those who are just curious, for other women-of-color, and importantly, for the men in the lives of Black women. Chapter nine tidily sums up the previous chapters and lists ways that one can pick up the mantle and go forward.<p></p><p>April's gift in this work is that she pulls back the curtain a bit on what it is like to be a 21st Century Black woman with ambition, who knows that "Sisterhood is our Superpower" and who still believes in the possibilities of this country. She shows that one of the most enduring aspects of the ways we lead - whether our names are known or not - is because we have always understood it is about "we" and not "me."</p><p>An anthem is defined as "a rousing or uplifting song identified with a particular group, body, or cause" or "a song or hymn of praise or gladness." </p><p>In that it is not yet a hashtag but has hopes of it resonating with those who organize, #Blackwomenwillsavetheworld is both a declaration as a call to action. If we have any hopes of living into the next decades of the 21st century, it is time to embrace the presence and voices of those who have been fighting for this country to live into her highest ideals.</p><p><u> </u></p><p>©2022. All Rights Reserved by Taye Foster Bradshaw Group LLC, Antona B. Smith.</p>Tayé Foster Bradshawhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18402958583375060035noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5442058777732356323.post-35976431799247034842022-09-03T07:00:00.001-04:002022-09-03T07:00:00.160-04:00The Personal Librarian by Marie Benedict and Victoria Christopher Murray<p>When was the last time you read a love letter to the library?</p><p>When was the last time you stood in awe of the majesty of a curated space dedicated to the art of literature?</p><p>When was the last time you engaged in this space that is free and accessible to everyone with a card?</p><p>In the middle of the pandemic, when browsing through the aisles of the library was just beginning to be possible again, this beautiful offering came forth in June 2021 and invited us to remember what we love about this people's space. </p><p>If it has been a while, I invite you to go back and consider the gift of the public library and then I invite you to learn about the quest of one woman to preserve, protect, and promote the space of public knowledge.</p><p><i></i></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><i><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhg86TXz3jxrcIo25yAxdvZgiuKdNF3LvF5zo5z2XKjGDJXFciim4N3qBYseTRZZMn8WqG_jH7YPFCe4ad01xcUPV-y_M4Mm-us1gs_3zfHjm9LdWvCsKmcu-wAoRUyaSiyN0tTttpHz4lkbGd8oUoc4zDEBuo-ZUyzAsWxiXW5xeVpVYGSTvBVDdU/s4032/40CDA2C0-E3A8-4B45-8CC7-27996D7F8C98.heic" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhg86TXz3jxrcIo25yAxdvZgiuKdNF3LvF5zo5z2XKjGDJXFciim4N3qBYseTRZZMn8WqG_jH7YPFCe4ad01xcUPV-y_M4Mm-us1gs_3zfHjm9LdWvCsKmcu-wAoRUyaSiyN0tTttpHz4lkbGd8oUoc4zDEBuo-ZUyzAsWxiXW5xeVpVYGSTvBVDdU/s320/40CDA2C0-E3A8-4B45-8CC7-27996D7F8C98.heic" width="240" /></a></i></div><i><br />The Personal Librarian</i> is an historical fiction account of Belle deCosta Greene , the woman who nearly singlehandedly negotiated the collection that eventually became what is now the New York Public Library.<p></p><p>J.P. Morgan was a force to be reckoned with, that comes across clearly in this book that is partly about his quest to be remembered, his insatiable desire for beautiful things, and his whimsy, his delight in this brilliant woman who was his intellectual equal. </p><p>She was clearly a photo-feminist, a woman of independent means, who made personal sacrifices to hold onto the ability to make her own desires the principle choice. That she gave up so much to make such an impact is the underlying sorrow of her story, of this life.</p><p>What would you do if you knew you were in the middle of making history but had to keep parts of yourself in a closely held secret all the way to your death, that if it were discovered your true identity, everything you worked so hard for may crumble under the weight of bias, prejudice, and injustice?</p><p>If you watched <i>The Gilded Age,</i> you would enjoy this book set in New York City with glimpses into the tiny window of the elite elite of this country. What was it like back then when the Industrial Age was making instant millionaires brush up against the long money traditions of New Amsterdam.</p><p><br /></p>Tayé Foster Bradshawhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18402958583375060035noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5442058777732356323.post-76368768745449797332022-08-31T08:29:00.002-04:002022-08-31T08:29:50.874-04:00Moth (Me) by Amber McBride<p> If there is a place of existence beyond the reach of words etched on parchment or songs whispered in the wind -</p><p>Moth (Me) is the in-between of that space of inhaling, closing one's eyes to sit in a moment, and exhaling while opening eyes to the possibilities that invite us in to life.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFSkm_kcsUcVMR18hGhk4TcNAf8kzRkz2ArC__kZz1fPYPLo0sEIdrG-s7CnnuFwA1t1KAeesYyy4SwkH11luG68EbKI57jXXsnHBGRw2AUmX64SYZzLiCI_hUKS4RfZdiPzdr0wGZptc463BcA-oV-u0l2aKgWxBG_sabrJ0p_VKbxI3Md6V6L4_G/s4032/0B258055-E5F4-4F2B-9BDC-9B8B5783F38E.heic" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFSkm_kcsUcVMR18hGhk4TcNAf8kzRkz2ArC__kZz1fPYPLo0sEIdrG-s7CnnuFwA1t1KAeesYyy4SwkH11luG68EbKI57jXXsnHBGRw2AUmX64SYZzLiCI_hUKS4RfZdiPzdr0wGZptc463BcA-oV-u0l2aKgWxBG_sabrJ0p_VKbxI3Md6V6L4_G/s320/0B258055-E5F4-4F2B-9BDC-9B8B5783F38E.heic" width="240" /></a></div><br /><p></p><p>Amber McBride in her novel-in-verse has truly gifted us with glimpses into and beyond the right now, to other realms of the past, present, and future.</p><p>In this work, this tender poet, parts the curtains, just a bit, between here and there, allowing the readers to feel the presence of those deeply loved, of hearing the melodies of the ancestors, of sitting in the cadence of the trees, of being loved and wanted - deeply, of wanting and hoping - totally, of guiding and shifting - eternally.</p><p>Moth (Me) is the alternating voice we encounter in this work, met then by her co-sojourner - Sani.</p><p>In unexpected twists and turns, in dealing with life and loss, with the volcano of emotions of coming-of-age, and of ultimately, facing a truth beyond truth, this is a book that had me gasping for air as I felt myself swaying with every new line, eagerly turning pages to find out what happened to them on the trip that was ultimately a spirit dream to spirit dream.</p><p>The author honors African American, African cosmology and Native American spirituality, specifically Navaho. The land does speak a language and has much to say. As does the wind, air, water, and beyond the clouds. It is a love gift to the two people groups in this country whose very blood seeps deep into the roots. </p><p>I did. not expect the ending and perhaps that is the intention, to have us leaving our present to know that we are truly surrounded by a great cloud of witnesses who are very much a part of our now. </p><p>Read this book.</p><p><u> </u></p><p>All Rights Reserved. ©2022. Tayé Foster Bradshaw Group LLC.</p>Tayé Foster Bradshawhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18402958583375060035noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5442058777732356323.post-69905514540678061702022-08-17T13:33:00.003-04:002022-08-17T13:33:47.064-04:00Caucasia by Danny Senna<p> I went through a range of emotions as I read this book, so much so that at times I put it down and picked up a couple non-fiction books to peruse when the summersaults in my stomach became a bit too much.</p><p>First, let me say that this is a work of creative craftsmanship, so beautifully written. Danzy Senna is a writer's writer. This was her debut that for years, sat on my bookshelf.</p><p>The cover is what stood out to me. It was on a table at the Saint Louis County Bookfair, an annual gathering of bibliophiles from all over who eagerly filled carts and suitcases with tomes ranging from $1-5, all of them brand new.</p><p>For years, I've read and reviewed works by Black/African American women. That is why I picked up the book, placing it on my growing TBR pile, waiting for it to fit into the queue between seminary and teen literary works.</p><p>This summer, in that steaming space between July and August, waiting on my daughters to figure out how they wanted to get all their stuff over a thousand miles to college, I began to look at the volumes in my home library. Some were recent purchases and best sellers, others are those I've had for years.</p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZnsaT368aBvgFSuChhlG6TpJ4xMz_0IyDERlpyglxVk-8EJp4cf_50pHJNxCSHEATvEgaYiTuakxozYxYT1xjQYhL0D7dsFgyQf1wuUJcVw16nQfxKkNeqa-tX6Pcpl58dRFEqhqL03NIm7pcWGEFw2atz3s33fuHIMMGPFBpaG3BstflbYcxcxXZ/s4032/28FD027E-D3FA-4CE7-8C86-42999A3FB702.heic" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZnsaT368aBvgFSuChhlG6TpJ4xMz_0IyDERlpyglxVk-8EJp4cf_50pHJNxCSHEATvEgaYiTuakxozYxYT1xjQYhL0D7dsFgyQf1wuUJcVw16nQfxKkNeqa-tX6Pcpl58dRFEqhqL03NIm7pcWGEFw2atz3s33fuHIMMGPFBpaG3BstflbYcxcxXZ/s320/28FD027E-D3FA-4CE7-8C86-42999A3FB702.heic" width="240" /></a></div>The cover stood out to me and I pulled it out, "oh wow, I forgot I had this." I sat down to read it.<p></p><p>My preference is for the first-person, I love the intimacy of the protagonist's voice and their invitation into the world as they see it.</p><p>It was a rare treat to read a coming-of-age story, of sorts, set in a time that was very familiar to me.</p><p>The author, like the protagonist, was born in 1970. I was starting first grade back then, like the older sister in the book, Cole, we were the last of a generation, born the year of the Civil Rights Act being signed. We were supposed to be ushering in a new promise.</p><p>This book centers the complexities of that time period. Set in Boston, it wrestles with the issues of race, segregation, busing, and the hyper fear that surrounded anything to do with civil, social, racial, and gender rights.</p><p>Caught in this entangled web of philosophies was this little girl, a mixed race girl who very much looked white. She was wrapped in a world of her brilliant but troubled parents whose ideologies were not enough to keep their marriage together, each of them spiraling out of the emotional roller coaster of the movement. </p><p>The father and mother were somewhat hippie intellectuals meet Black Panther Party meet feminist idealists meet off-the-grid Woodstock-types meet liberals meet philosophers meet privileged lost souls. That they met at Harvard was promising, that the very place of their meeting set them up for what became the failures of their lives, was inevitable. They were too smart for the good of themselves and their children.</p><p>Girls coming of age in the early 1980s, now in the Reagan era with a reconstituted emphasis on racist policies, meant they were subjected to the vitriol of white Americans who were afraid of changing status, not so unlike 2022. The beginning issue was busing that ended in Oakland and the hyper policing of Black communities in Reagan's fabricated war on drugs, in it all, these girls were left to find themselves in a society that did not want to believe that part Black and part White girls like them had a place.</p><p>Cole, the older sister, looked more Black. Birdie, the younger sister and the narrator of this drama, looked more white. That the parents hyper melodrama reached a self-made crisis of them splitting up the daughters- the white mom taking the white-looking daughter through years of being unseen in places like New Hampshire and Maine, and the Black father taking the black-looking other daughter first to Brazil to only end up in Oakland with her estranged from his mental meanderings through the racial morass of now 1982 America - is a constant source of anger throughout the story. How the parents centered their own pain and disappointment while ignoring the very real needs of their daughters.</p><p>Assumptions are always made about what kids can endure, about how resilient they are, how they will be "better off" with the decisions adults make that are often more about the adults and their fantasies. </p><p>Such is this story, the mother was desperate for meaning in her life, unaccepted by her blue blood mother, encased in a fat body that society disdained, she fashioned a narrative of herself as some true liberation-seeking-activist who was on the run from the FBI and Cointelpro. She was co-opting the movement to give herself a purpose but neglected to see the impact on her daughters. They each thought she was bit off and why couldn't she just be a "normal" mom.</p><p>Birdie experienced a lot as a young girl and teenager, that by the time she was fourteen and stood up for herself, the adults around her could only give up the fight. They fought, of course, to try to keep her in the bubble of their making, but her declaration of independence and autonomy is what ultimately set her free to discover herself.</p><p>We don't know what came of Birdie once she made it to Oakland was reunited with Cole, but what we can surmise is that her life in hiding in plain site in a challenging American continued to trouble her thoughts of what it even means to be human.</p><p>This is a deeply moving, important, and emotional story of a girl just trying to find her way. It will resonate in 2022 in this ever evolving experiment called America.</p><p><u> </u></p><p>Writing as Taye Foster Bradshaw, coming of age in the same time period in the safe and stale midwest, I still ask questions about what it was all about. </p><p>©2022. All Rights Reserved. Antona B. Smith</p><br /><p><br /></p>Tayé Foster Bradshawhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18402958583375060035noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5442058777732356323.post-79514477742270784532022-06-03T18:43:00.004-04:002022-06-03T18:43:47.677-04:00Take My Hand by Dolen Perkins-Valdez<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEget-qTnH-oCA3EeFZcSx1sMYr_7YueXvaKwNBO2tCMZGAKaJa7d7fltn1-Aqn79hPnS9g-b0zsNxsGuoA9OUaVPwdO8GlblhwuHD6Zp8ST0FJUErBa44jLt6gTwFx7QSDYMkGq5t5Aw4EWREzhKEZtI0jGNijy3nkWHlk8JMwjkNGr0LCwzjWubPfD/s4032/TakeMyHandBookJPG.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEget-qTnH-oCA3EeFZcSx1sMYr_7YueXvaKwNBO2tCMZGAKaJa7d7fltn1-Aqn79hPnS9g-b0zsNxsGuoA9OUaVPwdO8GlblhwuHD6Zp8ST0FJUErBa44jLt6gTwFx7QSDYMkGq5t5Aw4EWREzhKEZtI0jGNijy3nkWHlk8JMwjkNGr0LCwzjWubPfD/s320/TakeMyHandBookJPG.JPG" width="240" /></a></div><br /> It is both an invitation and a request.<p></p><p>A plea - even.</p><p>Dolen Perkins-Valdez compels us to feel. To do so deeply and to not rush past the uncomfortable, the egregious, the injustice.</p><p>Take My Hand is a story for right now. </p><p>It is part mother-to-daughter letter, a reckoning with the past we sometimes do when something captures us at a moment in time and we spend decades grappling with the aftereffects. It is part a glimpse into the post Civil Rights era between Selma and Montgomery, that after the time and becoming time of what we are now dealing with in the simple right to autonomy.</p><p>This story hurt me, disturbed me, angered me, and invited me.</p><p>I read it in the aftermath of the U.S. Supreme Court's leaked writings about abortion and in the horrific days after innocents were slaughtered because of this country's unending, insatiable appetite for violence.</p><p>One can not turn away from what this book lays bare.</p><p>We are compelled to face it, full on, the effects of decisions, even if one is thinking they are doing "right" that are ultimately so wrong.</p><p>Who has the power over our lives?</p><p>Who decides what is best for us?</p><p>Where does autonomy and responsibility intersect?</p><p>Dolen Perkins-Valdez is a expert storyteller, one who doesn't just create characters to be forgotten, but paints us a deeply moving landscape of lives that could be our own.</p><p>The story of Erica and India, two minor girls whose lives and possibilities were irrevocably altered by the system that seemed too powerful to be challenged, is mirrored after the real life case that drew Perkins-Valdez into extensive research in a quest for justice, is one of tragedy and triumph, of loss and life, of the power of purpose filled with love. </p><p>I bought this book when it was released and ended up buying two copies, one I told my own daughters, ages eighteen and twenty, that they had to read. </p><p>Like all her other writings, Perkins-Valdez takes a moment in history and sculpts individuals we are drawn to care about, to be invested in their well being, and in the end, to want to do something so that their plight does not have to be repeated.</p><p>This is a right now book. </p><p>When does a woman, a girl, have the right to choose what happens to her?Does she lose that right because of age? Poverty? Race? Who speaks for those that systemic injustice silences?</p><p>Perhaps, just perhaps, little Black girls can have justice and reproductive choice, that life, liberty, and pursuit of happiness that is supposed to belong to all of us, - regardless of race and ethnicity, regardless of religion and belief, regardless of education and income - it is supposed to be our birthright.</p><p>May it be so.</p><span><a name='more'></a></span><p>Tayé Foster Bradshaw lives and writes in Connecticut, enjoying a new coming-of-age as an empty nester sipping coffee and gazing upon the ocean, envisioning possibilities. </p><p>©2022. All Rights Reserved by Antona B. Smith</p>Tayé Foster Bradshawhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18402958583375060035noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5442058777732356323.post-30074480849643078722022-05-19T08:16:00.002-04:002022-05-19T08:16:11.498-04:00What is Toni Reading?<p> My friends know that I am always reading a book, actually, more than one at one time.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCvqdOD2ilDD2kuGL6Go4ThvQeL6tqrAf0Kulp_vQRgJZqrCX4iMB1QNmbdxK7z-oDY6NlSkTWtbt6ncISj5L16Jw00pU2ZnHXdDJwoO9-TAn911d7Xq2FeZa4F6-V0PXx0y_6q7iMGauzRXx-YwcSOgkdD6CLpNZut4ngj4lWTjYRVFsYiruk14No/s1600/photo_1617976936.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1600" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCvqdOD2ilDD2kuGL6Go4ThvQeL6tqrAf0Kulp_vQRgJZqrCX4iMB1QNmbdxK7z-oDY6NlSkTWtbt6ncISj5L16Jw00pU2ZnHXdDJwoO9-TAn911d7Xq2FeZa4F6-V0PXx0y_6q7iMGauzRXx-YwcSOgkdD6CLpNZut4ngj4lWTjYRVFsYiruk14No/s320/photo_1617976936.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><p></p><p>Often, it is a fiction and a non-fiction book that I'm alternating between, kind of like my breakfast read versus my lunchtime read.</p><p>I decided to stop for a minute and take a look at titles I picked up at the library and what intrigued me about them.</p><p>As summer is approaching and as you may (or should!) be considering what to read while you go to the beach or honestly, have another summer in your back yard wondering when Covid will release us to the world. Well, literature and literary non-fiction can give us some thought provoking nuggets.</p><p>Literary non-fiction</p><p>I already reviewed and talked about The 1619 Project. It absorbed a lot of angst from people who did not want to look America in the mirror. It is still an important read and one I would recommend for those about to go to college or already there. It contains a lot of history not taught in the schools. It is in 18 sections that are meaty and accessible. It will take you through the summer.</p><p><b>The Black Agenda: Bold Solutions for a Broken System </b>edited by Anna Gifty Opoku-Agyeman is one I just picked up that covers a range of topics impacting Black people that if addressed, would make it better for everyone. They include the health industry, economics, education, and policy, among others. You can find your area of expertise and go for it. For me, I enjoyed the forward, the editor's note, and the chapters on Black lit and education.</p><p><b>Speak </b>by Tunde Oyeneyin is not what I would call great writing or literary non-fiction. It is a cross between a self-help book and a memoir written by a Houston native of Nigerian origin. It gives a glimpse into that culture, I didn't know there were a lot of Nigerian-Americans in Houston, and into the thoughts of a woman trying to find her way, from leaving college to being a Peloton trainer, she has gifted us little nuggets of thoughts that are perfect if one is in transition. My daughters gave it to me for my recent birthday, my second daughter and last child is going to college in the fall, I will be kid-free for the first time in thirty-five years.</p><p>THE NEW YORKER has compiled a collection of essays and writings throughout its history into one humongous volume! It gives me my arm workout and while I checked it out from the local library, I actually think it is one the I will add to my collection for the essays are something we can turn back to for future work. Edited by Jelani Cobb and David Remnick, <b>The Matter of Black Lives: Writing from THE NEW YORKER</b> is a hefty 860 pages. It includes writing on race in America from Toni Morrison, James Baldwin, Ta-Nehisi Coates, Zadie Smith, and others. </p><p><b>You Don't Know Us Negroes and Other Essays by Zora Neale Hurston</b> is another one that I have been munching on throughout the past couple weeks since finding it in the local library. It is another one that I will had to the collection. My Triumphant Soror was an anthropologist and an observer, this collection comes from that viewpoint. She was one of the greatest intellectuals of the 20th century and is the namesake of the literary circle I lead with Black teens.</p><p>Literary Fiction</p><p>I love story and as I have been curating the experience for the 2022 summer, I have a very large TBR pile of literary fiction and contemporary YA novels.</p><p>Two that I am exploring right now are <b>Take My Hand </b>by Dolen Perkins-Valdez. First, read anything she writers, literally. Wench was my first encounter with this poetic writer who uncovers deeper truths in the lives of Black women's experiences. This book is more contemporary, set in 1973 in Montgomery, Alabama with alternating chapters into 2016, it tells the story of reproductive medicine and Black women. I pre-ordered it for its May release and have been transported into the lives of poor women trusting that the government wouldn't deliberately endanger their lives. As we are in the frightening times of a woman's rights to choose being stripped away, this is one that I have given to my daughter.</p><p>The other book is a contemporary YA novel written in the voice of three Black American Muslim girls living on this side of identity, being, and belonging. Set in three different places, this invites us into the world of these teen girls and what it is like for them to navigate the triple "isms" of race, sex, and religion. You Truly Assumed by Laila Sabreen was released in February 2022 and is one we will read in the <a href="http://www.hurstonandhughesliterarycircle.com" target="_blank">literary circle.</a></p><p>Bookstores and Libraries</p><p>This year, the Brooklyn Public Library and I believe the entire New York Public Library has made their collection free to anyone ages 12-21 to check out a book. This is in response to the ridiculous backlash against history and anything telling the truth of American's original sins. Sparked by The 1619 Project and their need for a boogieman (boogieman?) everyone from ponytail moms to politicians spoke out against the well researched work of Professor and Journalist, Nikole Hannah-Jones work that was originally part of the 2019 New York Times series under the same name. The shift in the country from awakening in May 2020 after George Floyd was murdered by the police, quickly morphed into some white people espousing "great replacement theory" and millennial/Gen X moms scared their sons would read that white people weren't that exceptional after all. Book banning in school districts and attempts to have them removed from public libraries has absorbed alot of the energy in the 2021-2022 school year. In an effort to combat that, organizations like the National Library Association and many, many bookstores, have put out lists of books that they have available. Reading is power and as I've taught my students, it is something they didn't want African Americans to be able to do. So many books have been banned that the most the Generation Alpha will encounter in schools is a milk toast marshmallow cloud of white imagination. The kids, though, have been fighting back and forming book clubs, reading groups, and standing up to the bullies without a brain. I hope the next school year will be better.</p><p>I purchase a lot of books, like a lot of books and well over 99% come from an array of Black bookstores. Where I live, I frequent Kindred Thoughts in Bridgeport or The Key Bookstore in Hartford or People Get Ready in New Haven - all through Bookshop.org or their respective websites. </p><p>Other bookstores I order from and when I am in their vicinity, I visit, are</p><p>Uncle Bobbies Bookstore and Café in Germantown, Philadelphia</p><p>Harriett's Bookshop in Fishtown in Philadelphia</p><p>Cafe con Libros in Brooklyn</p><p>Semicolon in Chicago</p><p>Mahogany's Bookstore in Washington DC</p><p>Baldwin & Co. in New Orleans</p><p>Kindred Stories in Houston</p><p><br />I'm sure there are some I'm leaving off. I try to rotate my purchases. There are some local bookstores that I enjoy visiting like Atticus, RJ Julia, and any independent store I pop into when in Rhode Island or Boston.</p><p>So, there you have it, that is what Toni is reading in May. The literary circle starts in June, so for the summer, I will be all things YA.</p><p>What are you reading?</p><p><br /></p>Tayé Foster Bradshawhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18402958583375060035noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5442058777732356323.post-67277208944736076592022-03-09T13:09:00.003-05:002022-03-09T13:40:42.287-05:00Literary Non-Fiction: God is a Black Woman by Christena Cleveland, PhD<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEj8Z8Gg4L4shw_t6UuH0h_eyLcBLA8hv-QNMANB19WHpowI612Qoc8LB4tk9jU_Ssx_JG7B7Jzp0gebeSRwipWWBFnUT8rAAvyxp62yLB0bifj82KP1mg3t4N9xjsP3tkdIQbZ1xBXk0O-5yAyvpewdSNTGuQvD52pY2wmvDRtDgVatGp8FQhgU5yAg=s4032" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEj8Z8Gg4L4shw_t6UuH0h_eyLcBLA8hv-QNMANB19WHpowI612Qoc8LB4tk9jU_Ssx_JG7B7Jzp0gebeSRwipWWBFnUT8rAAvyxp62yLB0bifj82KP1mg3t4N9xjsP3tkdIQbZ1xBXk0O-5yAyvpewdSNTGuQvD52pY2wmvDRtDgVatGp8FQhgU5yAg=s320" width="240" /></a></div><br /> I have been mesmerized by the beautiful Black woman on this cover. <p></p><div>To me, literary work of late has been as much about the cover art as it has been about the telling inside.</div><div><br /></div><div>So for all of 2022, so far, I was following the IG promotion of Christena Cleveland, PhD, hyping us up to get this book when it drops.</div><div><br /></div><div>Now, all authors do that, as they should. If they don't believe in their work enough to post or Tweet about it, why should I want to plop down $26.99+tax+shipping for the imaginations of their day?</div><div><br /></div><div>Her posting hit my Bookgram feed around the same time as I was engaging with <i>The 1619 Project,</i> another aesthetically pleasing offering, and Shouting' in the Fire, a cover on this slim book that draws ones eye in. So, of course I wondered what this was about. </div><div><br /></div><div>Until encountering her on IG, I did not know about this sociologist and former professor at Duke Divinity School down in North Carolina. I went to seminary in boring old Missouri and while a budding womanist, certainly did not have images like this on the covers of books to proclaim loud and clear that God is a Black Woman.</div><div><br /></div><div>So I could not wait for this book to arrive.</div><div><br /></div><div>I preordered it, like I pre ordered several other 2022 releases because I believe in supporting Black writers, especially Black women writers. </div><div><br /></div><div>These are my thoughts, some I shared already on Facebook, and as you know, I have just this year started adding the Literary Non Fiction as a further celebration of the literary works of Black women.</div><div><br /></div><div>Key takeaways and palate-pleasing-pronouncements have included additions to the secular lexicon like whitemalegod, Sacred Black Feminine, </div><div><br /></div><div>Clear, post worthy statements of facts like,<p> </p><blockquote> "Her. unapologetic Blackness is an inconvenience to white people who have long benefitted from and participated in whitemalegod's oppression of Black people."</blockquote><p> </p></div><div style="text-align: left;"> I mean, that would have been a paragraph starter in my Black Theology or Readings in Womanist Thought Course. So, to the extent that this book is a compelling read for anyone in theological studies, I say get it.</div><div><br /></div><div>It is not a deeply researched tome with nuggets that will make a thesis, but it does invite us into a conversation through the chokehold of conservative white evangelicalism cloaked in sometimes nice music that has strangled the near-life out of any non-denominational church kid who came-of-age post 1990, pretty much like Danté Stewart. She invites us to look fully into the face of whitemalegod, even if it is covered in well-intended but misguided vision of Black parents who think a girl's only worth is in her intact hymen to catch a good man, even fasting and praying for one from the age of five. </div><div><br /></div><div>This is both a glimpse into her come-to-Black-Jesus moments of realizing she had ingested the internalized oppression of the conservative Christian environment where she was formed, went to school, preached, and even made her lucrative career on, and her wanting desperately to have us believe she is free and is freeing us.</div><div><br /></div><div>There are parts of that in this book.</div><div><br /></div><div>Just repeating the title, God is a Black Woman, is enough to send some people to the altar to repent and some others to the pews to praise.</div><div><br /></div><div>Her book is part travelogue, chronicling her five weeks in France traipsing across the idyllic countryside to find the Black Madonnas so revered in the country. </div><div><br /></div><div>In fact, the book opens with that action scene of her trying to outrun French police because she tripped the alarm trying to touch one of these ebony mothers of freedom. </div><div><br /></div><div>That is was initially drew me in and made me post that one not only had to get this book but that I was going to have my daughters read it.</div><div><br /></div><div>Like any story, there is always the lull part or the why-is-that-here part of the reading that makes you squint your eyes and wonder what she is trying to say.</div><div><br /></div><div>It is her story.</div><div><br /></div><div>It includes snippets of her caring for her sister who battled mental illness.</div><div><br /></div><div>Recovering from and eventually reconciling with her father whose love was somethings at the end of fear and a belt.</div><div><br /></div><div>Understanding her emerging sexuality and what shamed looked like in a public unveiling of a grown woman's choice.</div><div><br /></div><div>Confrontations of the nicewhitemicroaggressions from her elite private boarding school in New Hampshire to her studies at Dartmouth to her eventual spot in front of the classroom at Duke Divinity School. None of these are HBCUs or all Black enlightening experiences that could have shaped the young mind of this older millennial, exactly like Danté Stewart. They were emerged in, gravitated to, espoused, and made their career in these white evangelical spaces.</div><div><br /></div><div>The book includes a brief interlude of facing mediocre liberal white men and the women they run to defend even at the expense of the Black women harmed. Even a note or two about the colonizer Medical PhD who stole the life of a Black woman and the seminary celebrated his novel, think like The Help.</div><div><br /></div><div>So, all-in-all, this was not a wasted visit after the intense February I had with <i>The 1619 Project</i> in preparation for Mosaic: Woodbridge Reading in Community.</div><div><br /></div><div>My theological and ministry sisters and I commented that folks have said this for a long time - God is a Black Woman and like Dr. Cleveland pointed out, no, it was not a white dude who wrote the Shack who said it first. Dr. Mitzi Smith, the first African American woman to earn a PhD in New Testament Theology, commented on this fact to my Facebook post about the book. Her book, <i>I Found God in Me, </i>was a guide for me when I was in seminary and <i>Womanist Sass and Talk Back, </i>is definitely a tome to Black women's voices. She along with the Womanist Theologians I deeply studied in seminary are all those who said first and longest that seeing God as a white man is what continues to ensnare us and white people in an endless cycle of patriarchy-sexism-racism-classism without liberating anyone, even themselves. Other beautiful Black women covers that called me were <i>Womanist Interpretations of the Bible</i> by Dr. Vanessa Lovelace, noted Hebrew Bible Scholar or the revered Dr. Renita Weems, the mother of Womanist Theology, in<i> Just a Sister Away,</i> are must reads in conversation with finding "God in me and loving her fiercely, " as thinker and poet, the late Ntozake Shange invited us to do in <i>for colored girls who considered suicide when the rainbow is Enuf </i>that I read back in undergrad in the mid-1980s and was published when I was an eleven. year old not running from body image or climbing bookshelves for a sugar rush like Christena had to do to fill a void. </div><div><br /></div><div>Dr. Cleveland is not a theologian, so one should not read her book in the same way one reads something for seminary, however, it can be a useful tome to go alongside some deeper research in women, gender, and theology.</div><div><br /></div><div>I laughed, delighted, and smiled throughout reading the book. There were even points when I did a, "whew Chile, you needed some time in Black space." Dr. Cleveland is somewhere near the age of my older sons, so I also checked my generational bias as I read about her finding her voice and self in 2013 and 2014. Part of me wanted to chastise her and even said out loud that what took you so long to realize white folks had some deep racist thoughts about Black people. But then, I had to remind myself that she was young. My youngest son, the last of the Millennial generation, was a senior in high school, the same age actually, when Trayvon Martin was murdered. He had just finished his sophomore year in college when Mike Brown was murdered, having just turned twenty, he was forming his opinions about the world. So I had to forgive myself and her for my annoyance with some of her Millennial phraseology and self-aggrandizement.</div><div><br /></div><div>That noted, read the book. </div><div><br /></div><div>Not every young Black woman has a lucrative enough gig to be able to spend five months in France walking through the countryside in search of Black Madonnas.</div><div><br /></div><div>Not every young Black or even older Black woman has a second book deal from a noted publisher to go off and write about the Sacred Black Feminine.</div><div><br /></div><div>Not every young Black woman taught at one of the top Methodist seminaries.</div><div><br /></div><div>Not every young Black woman survives the abusive theology of whitemalegod and marries a White man after graduating from several elite white institutions and comes out whole.</div><div><br /></div><div>Not every young Black woman writer is hyped up and on speaking tours because her work comes at just the right time that a lot of people are calling BS on the five centuries of centered whitemalegod that they are sick and tired of being sick and tired, as proclaimed by Fannie Lou Hamer from a time before any of these Millennial or Gen Z voices were a thought.</div><div><br /></div><div>This is not quite a self-help book, not quite a memoir, not an essay, not an anthropology or sociology writing, or even a deeply researched offering from historians like Dr. Keisha Blain's work in <i>Four Hundred Souls,: A Community History of African America</i> and <i>Until I am Free: Fannie Lou Hamer's Enduring Message to America,</i> no this book is more of a coffee chat of a sister's travels to find herself. . </div><div><br /></div><div>I have spent over a decade centering the voices of Black women in my work.</div><div><br /></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjeZdLdVPpbntUK5N6XQ_TIKnqXI8UaIyggJrzE0ECOyyZ1cqtCbGSMVkoq7pXCD1i9XxEXcFgLjk-_wwRCZkJvOqkDQTAZ-7ivN_Rd5HqlaNd0h-1JTc4qnMEWuxDK6iTOMVhmKc-XlQMPd7QbbkbqdXZVvHJlFVrH79IiLPb0Sng_PSvgqrpjI7tc=s4032" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjeZdLdVPpbntUK5N6XQ_TIKnqXI8UaIyggJrzE0ECOyyZ1cqtCbGSMVkoq7pXCD1i9XxEXcFgLjk-_wwRCZkJvOqkDQTAZ-7ivN_Rd5HqlaNd0h-1JTc4qnMEWuxDK6iTOMVhmKc-XlQMPd7QbbkbqdXZVvHJlFVrH79IiLPb0Sng_PSvgqrpjI7tc=s320" width="240" /></a></div>In doing so, I found spaces for myself and my daughters, the top of the Gen Z, who have thoughts about Millennials and the future of what it means to be liberated. </div><div><br /></div><div>So, I finished this book with the beautiful cover and delightful stories that kept me company on my morning walks around the hardwood floors in my entryway, dining room, and living room. I will place her in the company of her sisters on my literary non-fiction shelf in my home library this afternoon as an early March snow blankets the sky in my Connecticut home.<br /></div><div><br /></div><div>This book is what is wanted in the heat of the day, like a cool glass of lavender lemonade sitting at the feet of the Black Madonna with your sister friends taking a moment to just breathe through all the aggressions you went through and can exhale in peace because at least you know there is a Black Mama out there, been out there, who knew that one day you would be seeking her out.</div><div><br /></div><div>____________________________________________</div><div><br /></div><div>©2022 by Antona B. Smith, M. Div, MBA. All Rights Reserved. readwritethinkconnect@gmail.com, </div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div>Tayé Foster Bradshawhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18402958583375060035noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5442058777732356323.post-55430092830053073002022-02-23T12:19:00.001-05:002022-02-23T12:19:26.998-05:00Literary Non Fiction: The 1619 Project<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjgyiC4DV4F3vldPcr6C1SiqodX1i73aiXM3eTVg_mBRrFEWWetiuKdsbQ6a3o4kJO-XMCP7mPFyMoTYOj6Lc_lNlMH7EK6kvMLsHPk4ucSzugUJvhmnwZstXr1MGpdgHE4b0Z078F_u5vrTZjrIL4VHW8CYLIxPV2gcVp5uoLdh1Kf5f8Rbo5YZQDr=s1280" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1280" data-original-width="960" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjgyiC4DV4F3vldPcr6C1SiqodX1i73aiXM3eTVg_mBRrFEWWetiuKdsbQ6a3o4kJO-XMCP7mPFyMoTYOj6Lc_lNlMH7EK6kvMLsHPk4ucSzugUJvhmnwZstXr1MGpdgHE4b0Z078F_u5vrTZjrIL4VHW8CYLIxPV2gcVp5uoLdh1Kf5f8Rbo5YZQDr=s320" width="240" /></a></div><br /> This book struck a nerve.<p></p><p>Perhaps that is why there has been this hyper vigilant manufactured hand wringing over CRT.</p><p>It started when the esteemed Journalist and Professor, Nikole Hannah-Jones used her research and inquisitive skills honed though a stellar career to ask the fundamental questions about 1619. She called it a new origin story and through first and second person research, set out to tell the story of America.</p><p>The New York Times Magazine feature was well read and well regarded by so many. </p><p>I was a newly minted M.Div when the magazine came out in August 2019 and being in the Midwest, was not able to pick up a paper copy. I read excerpts of it online and followed the Twitter posts. I was intrigued.</p><p>Then 2020 happened.</p><p>First the pandemic.</p><p>Then the murder(s).</p><p>Then the protests.</p><p>Then the panic.</p><p>Then the backlash.</p><p>Then the election.</p><p>Then the big lie.</p><p>Then, then, then.</p><p>And in 2021, there became this dog whistling even louder of CRT.</p><p>Mind you, this is a graduate level, doctoral level theory that is NOT taught in the nation's K-12 schools. Not even in most baacalauerete programs is this pedagogy even encountered.</p><p>But the KarenBeckySallySueJimBobJoe scared and vocal minority of yt people, adjacent to those who stormed the capital, began to bottle their new brand of racism in everything from masks to mandates to making little Alice and Allen feel bad about what their ancestors did.</p><p>Their same ancestors who sat out picnic spreads and brought their children, who made postcards about it, argued in Congress about it, went on killing sprees about it, and set up sundown towns, exorbitant rents and home prices for it, yelled at little kids about it, these same ancestors who did the horrible things and documented it now in this digital and hyper aware age, don't want their kids to know about it.</p><p>It hasn't been that long.</p><p>1619.</p><p>There is a new origin story apart from what I was told in school about the Puritans just seeking a land to worship freely, the land of the free, home of the brave, all that in the 1970s integrated classrooms of my Midwest town were Black and white kids sat together. We were supposed to recognize each other as the generation post The Civil Rights Movement and laws of 1964 and 1965. That we "got it" and the parents were repentant.</p><p>Not.</p><p>That is the overall message of this work.</p><p>They did not get over it, there are still people alive who witnessed lynchings, who sent those postcards, who screamed at little kids trying to go to school, who protested busing and affordable housing.</p><p>They are still alive and are scared.</p><p>Scared of the changing demographics of this country.</p><p>Sitting all this against the backdrop of this important date, Nikole Hannah-Jones amazed an incredible group of Historians, Artists, Writers, Poets, Culture Critics, Theologians, and Professors to do first and second person research on topics that include The Preface and Chapter One: Democracy, by the Creator of this project; Race, Sugar, Fear, Dispossession, Capitalism, Politics, Citizenship, Self-Defense, Punishment, Inheritance, Medicine, church, Music, Healthcare, Traffic, Progress, and Justice - the final chapter also by the creator of this project. </p><p>In between each of the eighteen divisions is works of poetry and some short fiction that relates to the previous topic. It is a respite, honestly, a moment to inhale and exhale because the work is so heavy.</p><p>I am not a slow reader, but all month, have been unable to read this text straight through. I've had to pause and shake my head, pray, cry, scream, and write it out. I had to walk away at times and read something else. A few times, I had to just take refuge in mindless TV because it was too heavy.</p><p>Pressing through, though, is the gift and goal of this work as we consider who this country will be in the next decade of this century, as now Generation Z is entering college as the most diverse, most technologically astute, and most adaptable of us all. They, along with their younger siblings, Generation Alpha, are poised to make significant changes if the goddegy older Boomer Is and scared-out-of-their-wits Generation X and Millennial parents get out of the way.</p><p>Reading history informs and empowers us if we are willing to take the sometimes painful journey through it.</p><p>There is an African American Proverb tied back to West Africa, in the image of the Sankofa bird. It is an old shaped bird because its body is moving forward but its head is turned backward. The proverb, "go back and get it" is conveyed to understand the wisdom in the listening to the elders, in sitting with uncomfortable truths to discover future possibilities, all of it relating to how our humanity is tied to the humanity of those past. It is a reckoning and recognition. </p><p>Nikole Hannah-Jones and the writers all invite the country to have a Sankofa moment.</p><p>My youngest daughter is preparing for her future as a Political Science major. She graduates in a few months. In addressing a school discussion during Black History Month, she reminded her teachers and administrators to not be embarrassed by being uncomfortable about what they don't know, about facing bias and prejudices and assumptions they may make about students of color in general and African American students, in particular. In her most informed and eloquent letter to them, she invited them to sit with their discomfort and grow from it and in so doing, they impart what education is meant to do. She said "Discomfort is Growth," - KYDRS</p><p>Discomfort invites possibilities and opportunities. What is it we don't know and want to know?</p><p>When I was a child in the 1970s, my father gave me a library card and encouraged me to discover the world. It was through that world that I read about white poor farmers who were migrating west in The Grapes of Wrath and the hopeful immigrants in A Tree Grows in Brooklyn and the young girl whose ethnicity and religious beliefs were under attack in Diary of Anne Frank. We learned about origins stories and the persistence in pursuit of freedom in The Autobiography of Miss Jane Pittman, Roots, and Incidents in the Life of a Slave Girl. He made us learn about the white hippy cult leader and what he did in California and about the religious abuse that resulted in hundreds of Black men, women, and children dying in an island jungle. What my father was teaching me, all before I reached high school, was to be empathetic and to understand history so we wouldn't be doomed to repeat it.</p><p>The 1619 Project and the children's book, Born on the Water, are necessary volumes to center the discussion of race, being, belonging, and ultimately, humanity in a country that claims to cherish life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness for all men. </p><p>We don't have to regress as a nation just because the demographics are changing. We don't have to be steeped in fear. We don't have to give in to the vocal micro minority who is having a temper tantrum instead of sitting down and reading what they refuse to know. We don't have to give in.</p><p>Nikole Hannah-Jones is active on Twitter in the daily assaults against this knowledge. She has been on book tours giving lectures and is teaching at Howard University. In all of it and throughout the book, the invitation remains that knowledge is transformative.</p><p>The concluding thoughts of the book are that this is an ongoing narrative, that history is yet being formed and that there are some recent incidents that give enough concern and pause that if we don't get it right - now - future generations will pay the price for our complacency.</p><p>No, this is not an easy read, but neither is what happened through genocide, human and sexual trafficking, and economic exploitation that robbed generations of Americans of their potential. But if reading is the only discomfort one encounters, how privileged is that.</p><p><i>"Until Americans replace mythology with history, until Americans unveil and halt the progression of racism, an arc of the American universe will keep bending toward injustice."</i> - Ibram X Kendi - editor of <u>Four Hundred Souls</u></p><p><br /></p>Tayé Foster Bradshawhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18402958583375060035noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5442058777732356323.post-36543017747460755602022-02-11T12:47:00.000-05:002022-02-11T12:47:56.282-05:00The Scholars are Sisters: Black Women Non-Fiction Literary Works<p> I began my literary reviews over a decade ago - Tayé Foster Bradshaw's Bookshelf - to honor those Stories that were singing my soul song. </p><p></p><p>I concentrated mostly on literary fiction because that is my passion and what drew me into writing about what was missing when I went to the bookstores. I still do not read Urban Fiction and anywhere near water is my favorite place to be.</p><p>That said, I also read and have been impacted by a lot of literary non-fiction written by Black women.</p><p> </p><p>Some of my reading and deeply annotated reading happened in the last twenty years, in the space between my MBA and my M.Div. The last few have encompassed a lot of theological writing because I'm still a fairly new M.Div (M.Antona Brent Smith, I graduated in 2019) and still new as a Womanist scholar. </p><p>Here is the list of the 2022 New Releases that I just purchased and am anxiously waiting to read.</p><p><br />1. <b>God is a Black Woman</b> by Christena Cleveland, Ph.D. - </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjiTGrtqHxhi4IFo75F_6zHeTiXnRNEFfVZkROv6j1c9lxQ2AV7cZTwbN6Z64OWPI2aJkzMjElDVG6gTh-mMh-h08BmADt0MRByO9jkdh-SfeeD7I7mQ_GnMzcsJ1ehzAEaGLtLBJJ2PX-HkJGd2jIw6-_Xott1-H8S8EhTUfe0INP1sIDoFu0cozVX=s4032" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjiTGrtqHxhi4IFo75F_6zHeTiXnRNEFfVZkROv6j1c9lxQ2AV7cZTwbN6Z64OWPI2aJkzMjElDVG6gTh-mMh-h08BmADt0MRByO9jkdh-SfeeD7I7mQ_GnMzcsJ1ehzAEaGLtLBJJ2PX-HkJGd2jIw6-_Xott1-H8S8EhTUfe0INP1sIDoFu0cozVX=s320" width="320" /></a></div><br />The cover alone is worth the pre-order. I have to thank Black instagram and the accessibility of conversations with writers because I wouldn't have known about this without IG. I also learned from the writer directly the impact of pre-orders, so I followed a link she gave me (it was Barnes & Noble) and preordered it on January 28, 2022 before her February 8, 2022 release date. It literally just came in the mail yesterday and I can not wait for March to center her work during my Black Women's History Month Celebrations. <p></p><p>2. <b>South to America: A Journey Below the Mason-Dixon to Understand the Soul of a Nation </b></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><b><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhMabPQQ8CdnsilRhURE0m72r-gs_vmoE_4dx0AJwdy-hSBqkGvHp9t7Gv6DdRKNpvkgOvM2InbXoOf1p0AykiI0-M6UqJf7oE0cjInizWAS_PRcmuTvkCWRqtZXL5mY5AFL22FxYKji1qcbsKVUfs1GzzzYhuQQz-Hctf3PI2-555J4NpRYlO49bQk=s4032" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhMabPQQ8CdnsilRhURE0m72r-gs_vmoE_4dx0AJwdy-hSBqkGvHp9t7Gv6DdRKNpvkgOvM2InbXoOf1p0AykiI0-M6UqJf7oE0cjInizWAS_PRcmuTvkCWRqtZXL5mY5AFL22FxYKji1qcbsKVUfs1GzzzYhuQQz-Hctf3PI2-555J4NpRYlO49bQk=s320" width="320" /></a></b></div><b><br /></b>by Imani Perry, Ph.D. This is another Black book IG find for me and engagement with the author. This is another book I purchased upon release and ordered this one from one of my Black bookstores I support through Bookshop.org (Kindred Souls in Bridgeport CT). I have engaged with Imani Perry's writing before when I was in seminary, her book, Very Thing: On Gender and Liberation, was one that I resourced for my 2018-2019 last year of seminary. Given the times we are in, the pre-release discussions of Dr. Perry's work have elevated it in discussion as the nation continues to grapple with race. <p></p><p>3. </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhy-zUhiuf7w_KFNm6DpFCdkrvn5bg56qSBAtQvjqwMw64Ig5LWVFdn-ZRiBpANXzeWsk7nXm1viqTLjz7He32C6B1z6VPCWL6v_sZQgk9qKmRtveeQB9Qw5VX86avU8eW6dfzR6S74XXJhMaosLli-uRVF7_i78Kt7YHO8UKsr2W7cPtAofzRgEQJE=s4032" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhy-zUhiuf7w_KFNm6DpFCdkrvn5bg56qSBAtQvjqwMw64Ig5LWVFdn-ZRiBpANXzeWsk7nXm1viqTLjz7He32C6B1z6VPCWL6v_sZQgk9qKmRtveeQB9Qw5VX86avU8eW6dfzR6S74XXJhMaosLli-uRVF7_i78Kt7YHO8UKsr2W7cPtAofzRgEQJE=w200-h150" width="200" /></a></div><br /><b>Surviving Southhampton: African American Women and Resistance in Nat Turner's Community</b> by Vanessa M. Holden is another Black book IG find. This is a scholarly writing that was published on July 13, 2021 but didn't hit my radar until later in the year. I think this was my December 2021 purchase. <p></p><p>4. </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgDCbspDY8Y5yP79n8WnsMNTWTKcEhpLGjmK4Y9n5NcRsflC7Tu0NcfjDfmZrJr7Q4uGAyVcNw2G2BpXjcBXw3Fic3MDNzGCplKj-j0T5uWVpYOBtZ0Uz6GJHfYus6aagi_qcRbawJSBAlFpOsPrBoKL9P3xnhv90hLAWCEv0GhDUWRAYEW5nsQFSbC=s4032" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgDCbspDY8Y5yP79n8WnsMNTWTKcEhpLGjmK4Y9n5NcRsflC7Tu0NcfjDfmZrJr7Q4uGAyVcNw2G2BpXjcBXw3Fic3MDNzGCplKj-j0T5uWVpYOBtZ0Uz6GJHfYus6aagi_qcRbawJSBAlFpOsPrBoKL9P3xnhv90hLAWCEv0GhDUWRAYEW5nsQFSbC=s320" width="320" /></a></div><br /><b>Vanguard: How black Women Broke Barriers, Won the Vote, and Insisted on Equality for All </b>by Dr. Martha S. Jones. I bought this book last summer during one of my trips to either Brooklyn or Philly, can't remember. I am looking forward to engaging with this book, originally published in 2020, as the 2022 election year continues to prove we have much at stake. I am also chair of a voting collective for. my sorority, so this is informing our work.<p></p><p>5. <br /><b></b></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><b><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiLcV6TX7WG5Kk9HLfbZvcAmIvej0y8yfcdOdP6n5eXzsxEPIyAMlAb836b0WRCCX3MyT5N1Simhen1CERgBUMYJAkeaIbCmmuFSU7vsrLa10ByMusD2dGhGYyE6u_-iJ3UrxYD0OWKwUBnVUPukqHYR_1P1zqP6fuHUIGoz6DgqldGboq_m36ohSJC=s4032" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiLcV6TX7WG5Kk9HLfbZvcAmIvej0y8yfcdOdP6n5eXzsxEPIyAMlAb836b0WRCCX3MyT5N1Simhen1CERgBUMYJAkeaIbCmmuFSU7vsrLa10ByMusD2dGhGYyE6u_-iJ3UrxYD0OWKwUBnVUPukqHYR_1P1zqP6fuHUIGoz6DgqldGboq_m36ohSJC=s320" width="240" /></a></b></div><b><br />The 1619 Project: A New Origin Story</b> created by Nikole Hannah - Jones. I bought this right when it was released and waited to February to begin reading it as I am leading a book talk about it in my town. It has been much anticipated.<p></p><p> I think of it in similar ways as <b>Four Hundred Souls</b> that as co-edited by Dr. Keisha Blain and Dr. Ibrim X. Kendi, that I read when it came out in 2019. I shared that book with several people and have recommended <b>The 1619 Project </b>as the starting point for The Hurston and Hughes Literary Circle® high schoolers.</p><p>So this is it, my 2022 TBR list of Black women.</p><p>Those I've read before, some during the pandemic, that are worthy of your consideration:</p><p>1. </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhOu6wERpme8KDUpfJ1aIbc0gB9qNdIQtk_v9rTBBx9fVgwOPXqj-eimKuIMbqtfwTtVZmeKf6oPT2is7OAkQVPvgdIAoWfgtuxPkH6EoMisIwSBDcvpFqcGR5Ctxg2s3iVUAZQkId44v8z6avYFjDRsyH9o4JIiMoM1fcFXqBm2YMBGJZhMxStm9Oc=s4032" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhOu6wERpme8KDUpfJ1aIbc0gB9qNdIQtk_v9rTBBx9fVgwOPXqj-eimKuIMbqtfwTtVZmeKf6oPT2is7OAkQVPvgdIAoWfgtuxPkH6EoMisIwSBDcvpFqcGR5Ctxg2s3iVUAZQkId44v8z6avYFjDRsyH9o4JIiMoM1fcFXqBm2YMBGJZhMxStm9Oc=w150-h200" width="150" /></a></div><br /><b>Caste </b>by Isabel Wilkerson. I read it when it was published, and her work is impeccable, <p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjBY5pG8LrhLaleLh8vsxT5WqOyo0kOngGX6kDdoIoLpUAZhGqtpLyLaI2oOqiKU-Ni6JkqpzGuZTX3mPPiu-ckwM2ZlDOzHiShSp20Sd6qoeI0K3kgcPkYSFnauWhR-ovuVc100adFYZoJUB90IISWthwM_LXp99O8kpgsn1m1vbEoqqMlWwqgS0Be=s4032" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjBY5pG8LrhLaleLh8vsxT5WqOyo0kOngGX6kDdoIoLpUAZhGqtpLyLaI2oOqiKU-Ni6JkqpzGuZTX3mPPiu-ckwM2ZlDOzHiShSp20Sd6qoeI0K3kgcPkYSFnauWhR-ovuVc100adFYZoJUB90IISWthwM_LXp99O8kpgsn1m1vbEoqqMlWwqgS0Be=w150-h200" width="150" /></a></div><br /><p></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p></p>much like <b>The Warmth of Other Suns</b>,<p></p><p><br />she has detailed research, stories, and connections from difficult times in our history that continue to impact the way race is systemically impacting the movement and being of Black people. I highly recommend both books.</p><p>2. </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhqZOfKslY5GJUO-VvnXr6R_zbfU9uus76KfnzdBAy4lKx4OeDRVdZx-A5loh3IvbwBGVkbg7LRqeS-jIAWR7AR-FRwljAGsqbUfRRO83XzDKkPPBYENoOxvlimo_75XddeD4nPLqdeXI6lazcK_3N2ENS-2tiHVVLJqy-VYovH4a6xIt0CsZ450Osc=s4032" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhqZOfKslY5GJUO-VvnXr6R_zbfU9uus76KfnzdBAy4lKx4OeDRVdZx-A5loh3IvbwBGVkbg7LRqeS-jIAWR7AR-FRwljAGsqbUfRRO83XzDKkPPBYENoOxvlimo_75XddeD4nPLqdeXI6lazcK_3N2ENS-2tiHVVLJqy-VYovH4a6xIt0CsZ450Osc=w150-h200" width="150" /></a></div><br /><b>Sister Citizen </b>by Dr. Melissa Harris-Perry. Another book I read and deeply annotated when it first came out continues to make the argument of for Black women's impact as noteworthy in achieving democracy. Her work as a journalist and professor rings out and I had the pleasure of meeting her twice, the second time she signed my book (Public Theology and Racial Justice Institute at the Vanderbilt Divinity School, 2019)<p></p><p>3. </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEi6ityvFyDTMdGW0bksYa-tdy23LsbSHCFLIIEteNUOFx18OqOF79cSn7UMVMUr-TCoLyXiFSqeYYw070DTOau1DrQ1ISY_DUsJS5tHORUt0pqf14D2kO8LbncscoPYvifNfMWz9Dm0SItDuzSn4yxP0RS4F-ZMC2W9zUDfIRukCHxEOTl0DIjlryIg=s4032" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEi6ityvFyDTMdGW0bksYa-tdy23LsbSHCFLIIEteNUOFx18OqOF79cSn7UMVMUr-TCoLyXiFSqeYYw070DTOau1DrQ1ISY_DUsJS5tHORUt0pqf14D2kO8LbncscoPYvifNfMWz9Dm0SItDuzSn4yxP0RS4F-ZMC2W9zUDfIRukCHxEOTl0DIjlryIg=w320-h240" width="320" /></a></div><br /><b>They Were Her Property: White women as Slave Owners in the America South </b>by Stephanie E. Jones-Rogers is one I first encountered in my book club. Often times, when the injustices of chattel enslavement in the U.S. is discussed, it is often as if the only protagonist in that sordid story is a white male. White women were owners, some were owners that married the men and because of patriarchy, had to acquiesce that ownership, others remained unmarried so they could maintain control and just hired men as overseers. This story is a stark reminder that Jane was just as bad as Jim.<p></p><p>4. <br /><b></b></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><b><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgmf3FnEl36dCIuxIUWzrN6tvMjKaxXPh4g6PVsRJBytjR6dEpYlsG6ap0xHufUENqEAx9nWHKURo2JgTKmmHMMaauL57WPTfciwR3IZOXELj3wJEGW9pluvHNdsz-uj-37uCN532JEdHCJKmp4aUntcf5-sRuHaQuvXnEUsK7FwOwEMRohb1n7eszv=s4032" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgmf3FnEl36dCIuxIUWzrN6tvMjKaxXPh4g6PVsRJBytjR6dEpYlsG6ap0xHufUENqEAx9nWHKURo2JgTKmmHMMaauL57WPTfciwR3IZOXELj3wJEGW9pluvHNdsz-uj-37uCN532JEdHCJKmp4aUntcf5-sRuHaQuvXnEUsK7FwOwEMRohb1n7eszv=s320" width="240" /></a></b></div><b><br />The Hemings of Monticello:An American Story</b> by Annette Gordon-Reed has been out for several years and is a chronicle of the author of the Declaration of Independence and his deep hypocrisy in his dealings with Sally Hemings and her children. It is a stark contrast to the humanity he was trying to invoke in his writing and his want, need, lust, ownership of a young Black girl. It is a complicated story, much like this country, and one that should be told. I encountered this book several years ago in book club. <p></p><p><br /></p>Tayé Foster Bradshawhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18402958583375060035noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5442058777732356323.post-16127369469527439502022-01-30T18:00:00.001-05:002022-01-30T18:00:00.144-05:00Reading Black Women in 2022 <p><br /> I have been reading and reviewing Black women's literary works for over a decade.</p><p>Back when I started doing this, it was hard to find titles. </p><p>I scoured libraries, bookstores - anyone remember Walden Books?, used book sales, any where I thought I would find a book.</p><p>Publishing then, as now, was timid/reluctant/downright hostile to stories by Black women about Black women that was not steeped in oppression, enslavement, or some other tragic trope. </p><p>When the urban lit genre came out, supposedly depicting life in "Black America", my stomach turned in knots. My son is a lyricist, hip hop rapper, and he refused to sign with the major record label that was courting him for the very reason I felt such disdain on the cover in these book back in 2008 - it was all hyper masculinity and hyper sexuality without an ounce of authenticity. For him, he wanted to stay true to his art and message and not be marketing a lifestyle that was not was "living in the hood" was about.</p><p>Yes, parts of Black America struggle with poverty, violence, hunger, drugs, and a lack of opportunity.</p><p>Guess what, so does America, or white America. Have you ever seen a trailer park? Been to some of the small towns? I'm originally from Missouri and a few years ago, on the way to a college visit with my husband, we passed through some of these one-stop-sign towns and blighted is the only word that came to mind. Social ills do not have a race, yet, that is what a lot of the media - news, books, music, magazines, social media - wants you to think when you think about nonWhite Americans.</p><p>So, in my love of books and having grown up reading Betty Smith, the entire Hardy Boys and Nancy Drew series, I still longed for stories that reflected me. I set out to find some.</p><p>One of The very first book review I did on this site that shifted a trajectory for me was a joint review in September 2009 of Annie John and Angel of Harlem. This was long before FB and IG and BookTok. </p><p>I go back to my origins to remember why I do what I do. That was also the summer I was beginning my work with Black teens reading Black lit. </p><p>A lot has changed since then, and a lot has stayed the same.</p><p>One thing that is constant is that literature informs my world.</p><p>I took a walk in my home library and pulled out books I'd read or reviewed. Then, I looked at all the ones I wanted to read. I don't speed read through literature, I feel it is a disservice to the author. I reserve that speed reading for when I was in seminary trying to cover a lot of dense writing. Literature is to be savored, like my custom coffee and morning lattes.</p><p>2022 has many debuts, as did 2021 and 2020, the pandemic has given us a lot to keep us company in our quarantine. My literary collection is carefully curated for my reviews of Black women and for what I do with <a href="http://www.hurstonandhughesliterarycircle.com" target="_blank">The Hurston and Hughes Literary Circle®</a>. We do not censure or ban books with our teens but do keep our lists pertinent to those historically excluded from the ELA curriculum in high school.</p><p>My 2022 reading list so far is the <a href="https://bookshop.org/books/the-1619-project-a-new-origin-story/9780593230572" target="_blank">1619 Project </a>because it has fiction and poetry interspersed in the eighteen divisions of narrative and I am leading <i>Mosaic: Woodbridge Reading in Community</i> at the end of February. <a href="https://www.mahoganybooks.com/9780393651904" target="_blank">Read Until You Understand</a> by Professor Farah Jasmine Griffin is a lovely tribute to so many gifts of Black literature.<a href="https://www.keybookstore.com/results/?search_term=my+monticello"> My Monticello</a> is what I keep handy for those moments when I want to read but don't have the time to fully engage with a literary work, this is a collection of short stories. My YA pick for the month is <a href="https://cafeconlibrosbooks.indielite.org/book/9781984829993">Off the Record</a> maybe because the protagonist is an aspiring journalist, a senior, wants to go to Spelman, and does not fit the European narrative of who is beautiful. It is in her voice, something else I really love.</p><p>What else am I considering and would recommend if you were going shopping right now? I visited my. library and then the collections at my list of Black owned bookstores that have a <a href="http://www.bookshop.org" target="_blank">Bookshop</a> storefront (why shop Amazon?).</p><p>Here is my list of stores owned by Black women:</p><p><a href="https://www.semicolonchi.com">Semicolon Bookstore and Gallery</a> - Black women owned in Chicago</p><p><a href="https://bookshop.org/shop/peoplegetready">People Get Ready</a> - Black woman owned in New Haven CT</p><p><a href="https://www.keybookstore.com">The Key Bookstore </a>- Black woman owned in Hartford CT</p><p><a href="https://www.mahoganybooks.com">Mahogany Bookstore</a> - Black woman owned in DC </p><p><a href="https://www.oursisterbookshops.com">Harriett's Bookstore</a> - Black woman owned in Philadelphia (and her sister shop, Ida's)</p><p><a href="https://www.cafeconlibrosbk.com">Cafe con Libros</a> - Black woman owned in Brooklyn NY</p><p>Of course, there are others and there are Black men with bookstores that I support, but in support of my sisters and in support of a Black women in the Supreme Court, I'm highlighting Black women owned stores that I have frequented.</p><p>If you are curating your list of 22 books by Black women to read in 2022, I recommend the following and that you purchase them from a Black woman owned bookstore. Parting from my usual literary fiction only reviews, this list includes non-fiction works. In no particular order, here is a list of forty books that I have read, reviewed, and recommended:</p><p>1. Gathering of Waters - Bernice McFadden</p><p>2. The Wake of the Wind - J. California Cooper</p><p>3. Wench - Dolen Perkins Valdez</p><p>4. I am the rage - Dr. Martina McGowan</p><p>5. The Personal Librarian - Marie Benedict and Victoria Christopher Murray* </p><p>6. Four Hundred Souls - Dr. Ibram X. Kendi and Dr. Keisha Blain</p><p>7. Slavery in the Age of Memory - Dr. Ana Lucia Araujo</p><p>8. Caste - Isabelle Wilkerson (and The Warmth of Other Suns)</p><p>9. Sister Citizen - Dr. Melissa Harris Perry</p><p>10. Vanguard - Dr. Martha S. Jones</p><p>11. First and Only - Jennifer Farmer</p><p>12. The Street - Ann Petry</p><p>13. Maud Martha - Gwendolyn Brooks</p><p>14. Having Our Say - The Delaney Sisters</p><p>15. I'm Still Here - Austin Channing Brown</p><p>16. Rest for the Justice Seeking Soul - Susan Williams Smith</p><p>17. Negroland - Margo Jefferson</p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjp7L4L8KzbShBhtWmiUXFmW-aKRdkpvh37Bpj8x3q7DWmZ2FMC_cAEEIt-jEe9CbNnVVTcvRq_u1QieBGmSwh_G-R2sbyUuQftPxf5CxPebWTUHFGcSSlrN_8GMyijSt2hh749UxARqcoK-bODxPNCs6ZhRh6oTwUIvX3X8hR2vHjLaxUuFkbCvtX3=s5312" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="5312" data-original-width="2988" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjp7L4L8KzbShBhtWmiUXFmW-aKRdkpvh37Bpj8x3q7DWmZ2FMC_cAEEIt-jEe9CbNnVVTcvRq_u1QieBGmSwh_G-R2sbyUuQftPxf5CxPebWTUHFGcSSlrN_8GMyijSt2hh749UxARqcoK-bODxPNCs6ZhRh6oTwUIvX3X8hR2vHjLaxUuFkbCvtX3=s320" width="180" /></a></div>18. Pushout - Monique W. Morris<p></p><p>19. Claire of the Sea Light - Edwidge Danticat</p><p>20. Angel of Greenwood - Randi Pink</p><p>21. American Street - Ibi Zoboi</p><p>22. Mothers - Brit Bennett</p><p>23. Every Body Looking - Candice Iloh</p><p>24. Harbor Me - Jacqueline Woodson</p><p>25. Brown Girl, Brown Stones - Paule Marshall</p><p>26. Mouth Full of Blood - Toni Morrison</p><p>27. Ugly Ways - Tina McElroy Ansa</p><p>28. Kindred - Octavia Butler</p><p>29. Shifting Through Neutral - Bridgett M. Davis</p><p>30. River Woman - Donna Hemans</p><p>31. Angel of Harlem - Kuwana Hulsey</p><p>32. Dust Tracks in the Road - Zora Neale Hurston</p><p>33. Passing - Nella Larsen</p><p>34. Sassafras, Cypress & Indigo - Ntozake Shange</p><p>35. Disgruntled - Asali Solomon</p><p>36. Tempest Rising - Diane McKinney-Whetstone</p><p>37. Black Girl in Paris - Shay Youngblood</p><p>38. daughter - Asha Bandele</p><p>39. Salvage the Bones - Jesmyn Ward</p><p>40. The 1619 Project - Nikole Hannah-Jones</p><p>*co-authored by a Black woman based upon historical events of a Black woman</p><p>This is not an exhaustive list of books by, for, and about Black women. You can come to my site here, search going back a decade, and find works of fiction to read.</p><p>It is not enough to take pictures of stacks of books and post them on Instagram or make a video of it on Tik Tok, I've seen plenty of them. Read the books. I do not race through the books I'm reading, I am often reading two or three at a time in one month - non-fiction, something religious for my ordination process, and a fiction piece. When it is a big work, I annotate and give it the time it deserves to be fully appreciated. </p><p>There are books I've read that are in popular circulation, those heavily marketed by the publishing house, like The Other Black Girl- Zakiya Dalia Harris, that I've read but would not necessarily say is my favorite book. Here is the thing with that, not every one will be. That is because there isn't a single narrative about being Black in America or anywhere in the diaspora.</p><p>Black people in America were literally born on the water and mixed in with other cultures more so than our Black British and Caribbean counterparts because of the insidious nature of chattel enslavement that was uniquely something invented in the United States. </p><p>We, those descendants of the survivors of the most egregious and inhumane acts, are resilient, strong, have a culture that has been copied across the world, and continue to create amazing art. We gave the world music, fashion, and a style that can not be rivaled, so much that some have tried to legislate it away. Our joy will not end.</p><p>We read and keep reading, write and keep writing, and will not stay silent. No matter how many of our stories they try to ban from the schools. We always find a way.</p><p>Start.</p><p>Just start/</p><p><br /></p><span><a name='more'></a></span><p>Copyright 2022 by Antona B. Smith, The Tayé Foster Bradshaw Group LLC. All Rights Reserved.</p><p><br /></p>Tayé Foster Bradshawhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18402958583375060035noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5442058777732356323.post-85098822862516594352021-11-05T12:44:00.002-04:002021-11-05T12:44:44.990-04:00I, Tituba, Black Witch of Salem<p>by Tayé Foster Bradsahw</p><p> It seems every time I read a book that sat with me for a long time, I have ponder the longer meaning of the work.</p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-9TSJ6sNrFwg/YYVbGkzl7jI/AAAAAAAAjSs/-usLZNdw-mUjRupxmSUoWMKOTKY5zAz2ACLcBGAsYHQ/s2048/vIAV0LJrQwWEhEsTEElPkw.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="320" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-9TSJ6sNrFwg/YYVbGkzl7jI/AAAAAAAAjSs/-usLZNdw-mUjRupxmSUoWMKOTKY5zAz2ACLcBGAsYHQ/s320/vIAV0LJrQwWEhEsTEElPkw.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><br />That is the case with Maryse Condé's book, <i>I Tituba, Black Witch of Salem</i>.<p></p><p>Historical fiction rarely is written from the point-of-view of Black women, especially those enslaved during the formation of this country. This book is situated in Massachusetts and Barbados during those frightening years of uncertainty in this vast dark country when Englishmen and their families invaded Turtle Island to find what was not theirs. By 1642, when this takes place, they were taking human beings to do what they refused to do.</p><p>If it wasn't such a fight about the truth of American history, this book would be perfect for high school English and History courses. It will not make it past some of those governors banning anything that makes white students (parents)feel bad, but it will give an eye-opening account of a deadly time.</p><p></p><blockquote><blockquote style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Fjalla One; font-size: large;">The mix is religion, superstition, and ignorance. </span></blockquote></blockquote><p></p><p>The cast of characters were those religious zealots from England who landed in the colonies under the guise of persecution, oddly, that is what they did to others, especially in Salem.</p><p>Then there are the Goodwives who are essentially idle and prone to mass hysterics, much like the anti-vaxxers and mask protestors at school board meetings. They need a boogeyman and anyone who is different will do. They make the Housewives of (pick a major city) and any reality TV show appear tame. They even taught their daughters to flounce around in hysterics whenever Tituba entered the room.</p><p>Finally, there are the men, so many of the men who deign to be in charge of the world. There are the piteous self-righteous ones who won't even disrobe to be with their wives, parading around in the colonial world in all black like walking images of death. There are the enslaved ones who are figuring out how to gain back their dignity and freedom, and then there are the silenced indigenous ones whose land was stolen (sold, they say) for a trinket they can not use.</p><p>I tried to think of the men and how much of her life was because of her encounters with them. There was Congregational minister who was angry, frigid, and thought he deserved more than his wife and daughters, being cast out of Boston to a wretched and barren Salem, he thought much more of himself and in so doing, became an instrument in the wicked events that followed. I wondered, if she was as they claimed, wasn't Tituba a witch in Barbados or Boston before getting to Salem? I was angriest the most at him, a typical white man, mediocre at best, who would do anything for his quest for power.</p><p>Then there was the husband who sweet talked her away from what she owned to travel with him, warned as she was by the spirit mothers, this man was too weak willed to protect her. Or more than likely and to be witness for years to come, considered her even less than life worth loving, truly, and adoring, completely. John Indian was the prototyptical bad boy, even more so than Christopher, the character in her return to Barbados who fancied himself somewhat of a polygamist succeeding in keeping her pregnant when John Indian did not. Or the final blow to her heart and perhaps to mine, the affections of a much younger man who wanted her for more than care of his wounds. For a brief moment, he loved her, the night before they were both arrested for planning an insurrection, betrayed by one who looked like them. </p><p></p><blockquote><span style="font-family: Fjalla One;"><blockquote>Maryse Condé's translated text, from the French, highlights several thoughts about Tituba. The decision to tell her story, to lift her up from more than a line in the colonial history, was not only historic, courageous, but ultimately, compassionate. Like the woman-at-the-well in the biblical narrative, Tituba deserved to have her live considered fully, for all the complexity of the times, and for what she had to endure.</blockquote></span></blockquote><p></p><p>I thought about the Psalter, of one in the first book, Psalm 7, that is attributed to David when he was running from his accusers. Tituba, in her afrospirituality, seems to have understood deeply the nuance of her prayers and that the safety of her life depended on her trust beyond herself. She survived the unthinkable and never-ending racism, sexism, and classism that is deep in the soil of this country. She endured the ageism that crept up on her and the want of her life.</p><p>Ultimately, no one knows if Tituba actually returned to Barbados, as Conde concludes this tale and ultimately was killed by the same forces that missed doing that in Massachusetts.Or, as the notes suggest, that she went on to live an influential life, behind the scenes of this country, in the Bay Colony. Maybe she was one of the ancestors of that group of Black Americans who do not have ties to this nation west of the Mississippi, their people never knowing southern heat, but knowing the harm of northern lights. We will never know.</p><p>What we do know is there are hundred of other women, Black women, who endured this most inhumane treatment and never had their stories told beyond a line in a court document. The gift in this book is that Condé gave her such nuance, honored her humanity, and welcomed us into the consideration of what she left us. </p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p>Tayé Foster Bradshawhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18402958583375060035noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5442058777732356323.post-46895990165792977622021-10-05T11:34:00.001-04:002021-10-05T11:34:42.960-04:00American Like Me - Whose Stories Are Told<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-gYPMFVeX7S0/YVxuteV-rcI/AAAAAAAAjQY/rOYOM3fFVZ8mN8wktcGGl1DP0OcK8R8ZgCLcBGAsYHQ/s2048/Book%2BCover.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="320" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-gYPMFVeX7S0/YVxuteV-rcI/AAAAAAAAjQY/rOYOM3fFVZ8mN8wktcGGl1DP0OcK8R8ZgCLcBGAsYHQ/s320/Book%2BCover.jpg" width="240" /></a></div> I was invited by the town library to take part in a community event celebrating fall and an opportunity to gather together. We live in Connecticut and in a town that is pretty much all vaccinated, so after putting off the festival last year, they renewed it for 2021.<p></p><p>One of the literary aspects of the gathering was to host a book discussion of the One Book/One Town choice, <i>American Like Me</i>, edited by America Ferrera.<br /></p><p>Would this have been my choice? Probably not, but given that of the People of the Global Majority who live in this town about fifteen minutes from Yale, it made sense to pick this. Being still new to Connecticut, I'm intrigued by the many cultures that call this home.</p><p>So I dived into the reading with gusto, a pen, lots of coffee, and my post-it-notes. </p><p>The book is filled with first person accounts of an immigrant story from people who are "famous" in a variety of fields. They represent those who are between cultures either because they were born outside the United States of America and immigrated here or because their parents or grandparents were immigrants and hold onto the culture of their origin.</p><p>There is one Native Hawai'ian story, one Puerto Rican story (P.R. and Hawaii are both part of the United States so I was a bit perplexed that the editor chose these as additions). There is one Native American story, he is Lakota and Frank Waln's narrative is the one I chose to read. Conspiciously absent from her gathering of noted individuals were stories of African Americans or Black Americans. She completed excluded the story of those whose ancestry extends outside these shores, perhaps because not all can point to a map outside the American South or for those up here in the Atlantic states, whose ancestry has only been in Maine, New Hampshire, Vermont, Rhode Island, or Connecticut for centuries. Maybe she doesn't know any American born Black people?</p><p>Well, she included Issa Rae, she of Louisiana roots on her mom's side and Senegal on her dad's side. Maybe that counts?</p><p>Of the Africans in the book, she had Bambadjan Bamba, born in Cote d'Ivoire and grew up in the South Bronx, a Mecca for those of the Global Majority. He was a French speaking kid coming of age in the era of East Coast hip hop. </p><p>Roxanne Gay, born in the U.S. of Haitian parents. Her story is in here, so. maybe that counts? She is first generation. I know a lot of them now that I live in Connecticut, this part of the country is replete with West Indians. </p><p>Uzo Aduba, her parents Nigerian, Igbo, growing up with the proper English speaking cadence of upper class strivings of West African immigrants who modeled the British structure. Lots of the Global Majority in Massachusetts. </p><p>"I want all my friends to see us. I want them to know exactly who we are and where we're from. And I want us to stand proud in that." Uzoamaka Aduba</p><p>The vast majority of the book are Hispanic and/or Latina/o/x and Asian. Now, none of these identities - African, Asian, or Latine are monolithic, so America Ferrera did go a great job of gathering together immigrants representing South Asia, Latin America, Mexico, the Philippines, as well as Japan, China, and those who were mixed culture. I just wish she had had as much forethought to consider African Americans. Perhaps that was a longing for me as I was reading this in a month celebrating Hispanic/Latina/o/e/x heritage without really acknowledging that Haitians are Latine, without connecting the border stories of the treatment of Haitians, and leaving out the Brazilians. It was a reminder in celebrating stories that we still have a way to go. Literature is one way to journey.</p><p>W.E.B. DuBois wrote of the "double consciousness" of Black people in America. That can be the feeling of those in this book, between cultures, as all are part of colonized people or marginalized people in a dominant society that centers Anglo Western thinking in everything. Some of the writers were striving to become acceptable and a part of that culture and others were striving to hold onto and celebrate their identities and success because of the sacrifices of their parents or grandparents in coming to what they thought was a land of hope and possibilities.</p><p>This work is not one we normally read or review. The Tayé Foster Bradshaw Bookshelf was born to highlight the voices and stories missed. We have been over a decade centering the writing and voices of Black women in our reading. Perhaps it is the womanist in me that wanted to hear what the sisters had to say. </p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-g2kO3UyQ3kI/YVxv0NjrNqI/AAAAAAAAjQo/S02xMjupn4wQ5mjgNEjh5nefaIPfUHCGwCLcBGAsYHQ/s2048/Book%2BTalk.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="320" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-g2kO3UyQ3kI/YVxv0NjrNqI/AAAAAAAAjQo/S02xMjupn4wQ5mjgNEjh5nefaIPfUHCGwCLcBGAsYHQ/s320/Book%2BTalk.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>We began with only African American writers or those we assumed were so when we were growing up, like Paule Marshall, to discover later they had West Indian heritage. So we expanded and are delighted that so many of the women writers we encounter have a nuanced story of their being, yet all claim parts of the American promise in their narrative.<p></p><p>I am a writer. I have been since I was a child. I am not a novelist, however, and am grateful for those who share my ancestry - Dominican Republic, Haitian, New Orleans Creole, American South - Arkansas, Tennessee, and Kentucky - who shape my viewpoint. I believe that is part of the gift of this work by America Ferrera, to those who are first generation and to those who only know these shorts - there is a joy and wonder in discovery of the mosaic that makes up our communities. </p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-KRj2YA0cX1c/YVxv08IVFII/AAAAAAAAjQs/qr2ouqB7kukTFFhgQatZWIh1FsglYlxywCLcBGAsYHQ/s2048/Woodbridge%2BHistorical%2BSociety.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="240" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-KRj2YA0cX1c/YVxv08IVFII/AAAAAAAAjQs/qr2ouqB7kukTFFhgQatZWIh1FsglYlxywCLcBGAsYHQ/s320/Woodbridge%2BHistorical%2BSociety.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-oI9psTc3q3k/YVxv0LjsGEI/AAAAAAAAjQg/uSWN2f33700tcleDaETa0dSKhkN1DSoagCLcBGAsYHQ/s2048/Empath%2Bin%2BChinese%2Bcaligraphy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="320" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-oI9psTc3q3k/YVxv0LjsGEI/AAAAAAAAjQg/uSWN2f33700tcleDaETa0dSKhkN1DSoagCLcBGAsYHQ/s320/Empath%2Bin%2BChinese%2Bcaligraphy.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><br /><br /><br />The mosaic and celebration is what the <i>Woodbridge Like Me</i> event was meant to convey during this past Saturday when we gathered on the town green, outside the Meeting House and near the Library Lawn. We met new people, delighted in stories, watched Indian and Chinese dancers, martial artist, calligraphy artists, musicians, and parents reading diversely. One of the hopes of the books is the hope I carry as we continue to navigate what it means to be American, the we can honor each other's stories and find resilience in those who continue to become who they are. There isn't one American story, there are multiple ones. I for one hope we hear them.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-R35g_MY4GMI/YVxv1C3RuBI/AAAAAAAAjQw/jaWBh0zWJXAFH_ixhBqr4Co_GQc6VEvbQCLcBGAsYHQ/s2048/Woodbridge%2BLike%2BMe%2BEvent%2B2021.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="320" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-R35g_MY4GMI/YVxv1C3RuBI/AAAAAAAAjQw/jaWBh0zWJXAFH_ixhBqr4Co_GQc6VEvbQCLcBGAsYHQ/s320/Woodbridge%2BLike%2BMe%2BEvent%2B2021.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><p></p><p></p><blockquote><i><span style="color: #45818e; font-family: Satisfy; font-size: large;">"I want all my friends to see us. I want them to know exactly who we are and where we're from. And I want us to stand proud in that." Uzoamaka Aduba</span></i></blockquote><p></p><span><a name='more'></a></span><div><br /></div><p>Tayé Foster Bradshaw is the writers pseudonym given to her by her late father and in honor of her matrilineal heritage of women teachers in discovery. She loves a good latte, is always readings and has reconnected with her spirit's love of water living along the Long Island Sound.</p><p>©2021 by Antona Smith, All Rights Reserved. </p><p>Photo Credit - Keziah Smith</p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p>Tayé Foster Bradshawhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18402958583375060035noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5442058777732356323.post-16090772793211406552021-08-01T12:00:00.069-04:002021-08-01T12:18:45.483-04:00Disgruntled<p> Disgrunted</p><p>Merriam Webster defines it simply as "unhappy or annoyed." It's synonyms are aggrieved, discontent, displeased, dissatisfied. </p><p>I picked up this book </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-DfVuvOymJuo/YQbJUhF2FpI/AAAAAAAAjJM/Da7fV9Uh2-crRyDBMtJRixrp8f6GMqciACLcBGAsYHQ/s2048/Disgruntled.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="320" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-DfVuvOymJuo/YQbJUhF2FpI/AAAAAAAAjJM/Da7fV9Uh2-crRyDBMtJRixrp8f6GMqciACLcBGAsYHQ/s320/Disgruntled.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><br />on an April trip to Philadelphia with my husband and daughter. We stayed at the Inn at Penn and did a bit of a walking tour of the University of Pennsylvania. The inn was next to the bookstore, so of course we wandered in.<p></p><p>This book by Asali Solomon, is set in Philly in the 80s, ripe for so many cultural remembrances for me as that was the mark of my teen years and entry into college. It was to be a different sort of coming-of-age journey with Kenya.</p><p>I was draw in to the image of Philadelphia, a far away town from my Missouri upbringing. It is a big bustling city with the mark of American history replete through it. The Lenape people, the original peoples before William Penn, a Quaker, arrived in 1662 to establish a place where freedom of religion was possible a respite from persecution in London. Philadelphia was also where in 1684, when this country was not a country, that a ship named the Isabella arrived with about 150 captured souls. Descendants of those people remain there and in other parts of the Northeast that was not immune to the human trafficking of Black people. The setting of this book, approximately in 1985, the same year the Philadelphia Police Department bombed a residential home with six children, the MOVE bombing. This was long before Twitter or Facebook or Instagram Live could capture the assault, I was in college and only learned of it when it was reported in the Black press. This book sets a place in a part of history that not many know about, yet is not really a history book, per se, just invites those events in as backdrop and character. </p><p>West Philadelphia is a community where Black people were striving through the web of racism, economic exploitation, and housing discrimination. It is the home of then budding actress, Jada Pinkett, who appeared in the 1991-1993 seasons of A Different World, I was a young mother and professional by then, living in Chicago, and still not aware of the culture of Philadelphia. I didn't learn about "jawn" until recently, a local colloquialism with many meanings, much like St. Louis, "you straight?". This wonderful city is also home of another actor, Will Smith, the fictional goofy character in <i>The Fresh Prince of Bel-Air that aired from 1990-1996. </i> He was from West Philly, an African American community choked off from economic and educational resources through that American tool of marginalization, yet a community full of culture, pride, and hope.</p><p>This is the setting of Kenya's journey with us. The narrator taking us through her life from eight-to-eighteen with glimpses in all these stages. We meet her striving parents, her father who wanted to create an African commune, the Seven Days, a MOVE-like organization that was trying to discover something, they were celebrating Kwanzaa before it was popular. Kenya's story took us from her all-Black school to her prestigious high school boarding experience at a white school. Being from Missouri, I'm not as familiar with boarding school culture, but living in Connecticut now, am intrigued by Black families that choose this route. </p><p>Kenya discovered more of herself and her questions in boarding school. She ultimately graduated high school and was awarded prestigious acceptance to several schools, choosing Wesleyan in Connecticut. These are the toplines of her story, filled with hope and possibility of someone who would have been around the age of my little sister. </p><p>The other side of the story in <i>Disgruntled</i> rests a bit in what is a part of humanity, striving to be whole, fulfilled, and live a life of purpose. It is a bit witty, at times comical, sometimes sad, still hopeful, and ultimately, wondering about life.</p><p>The last part of the book left me a bit bewildered, though, on the author's choice of a book-within-a-book and an ending that left me well, disgruntled. Beginning on page 245, we find a young adult Kenya reading a manuscript her father gave her, she didn't want to read it, it was perhaps a bit of his fanciful tale of what he imagined of the past or what he hoped for the future. That is not what left me frowning, it was the fate of Kenya that didn't seem to fit, or perhaps that thread was there after her circumstances changed and she found herself choosing an old friend and his roommate that altered her life story.</p><p>I do recommend the book, though, because it is a glimpse into what older GenX experienced in this time period in America, decidedly post-Civil Rights era, post Voting Rights, post Black Panther and right into the aftermath of the Reagan years and the dawning of the War on Drugs that would become a concerted war on Black People for the next thirty years. This book was a mirror turned back to reflect, ponder, and ask, as we are in another challenging time in our country and like Kenya, considering what the future will be when it is different than what was so carefully planned.</p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p>Tayé Foster Bradshawhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01896370484155841534noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5442058777732356323.post-59412404451745995312021-05-28T08:00:00.001-04:002021-05-28T08:00:00.182-04:00The Angel of Greenwood by Randi Pink<p> Has your heart every skipped a beat?</p><p>Had those flutters of possibility?</p><p>Watched the blooming of what could be?</p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-i-ITxtERYL4/YLDYqa6zaLI/AAAAAAAAjFc/5MuS8vwmILAJ9rV-4NAUzQWfJL40DMc4gCLcBGAsYHQ/s1440/904B58CC-7A81-4702-A6F2-92530F7A1F8B%2B2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1440" data-original-width="1440" height="320" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-i-ITxtERYL4/YLDYqa6zaLI/AAAAAAAAjFc/5MuS8vwmILAJ9rV-4NAUzQWfJL40DMc4gCLcBGAsYHQ/s320/904B58CC-7A81-4702-A6F2-92530F7A1F8B%2B2.JPG" /></a></div>That is how I felt reading The Angel of Greenwood. Set in the weeks before the fatal massacre of the Greenwood neighborhood of Tulsa, it gave a glimpse of what that idyllic life would have been like.<p></p><p>It almost seems impossible to imagine now, a thriving all-Black/African American community that turned their dollar over so many times within their neighborhood that they didn't have much need for the outside world. For years, they built a dream, a promise for their future generations.</p><p>Yes, all around them, as more of the world was grappling with the after-effects of the war, as cultural debates among Black people were happening (think Washington vs. DuBois), and as Black vets were being targeted in the south, this little Mecca seemed immune to it.</p><p>What this book gave me, give us, is a gift.</p><p>There are and will be plenty of remembrances and writings about the lives and businesses lost. Honoring the few remaining survivors who have yet to have reparations, and a country again grappling with what it owes Black America. Tulsa wasn't the first massacre of an all-Black thriving town. There will be plenty of those, but for the brief moments of viewing through the lens of time, we were transported back.</p><p>We went back to greeting elder neighbors who knew everyone and everything.</p><p>Back to crafters and artisans and teachers and preachers. Tailors and grocers and butchers, and yes, even those who were scrapping by, but scrapping by in a town that held promise for their possibilities. </p><p>This book was an invitation to consider, to close one's eyes and hope.</p><p>Through young love and teenage coming-of-age wonders, it invites us into the intimate lives of four teenagers as they try to navigate who they want to be. Budding love, questions of what they owe their families and what they owe themselves, even grappling with the dynamics of friendships, this book is a great read for high schoolers and adults.</p><p>I loved the emphasis on books and writing, the poetry of Randi Park, and the hope resting in words for a people whose words are not all spoken.</p><p>It did not gloss over the doom that came in the dark of night, in fact, it vividly rendered the events through the eyes of these teenagers. It is part of the excellence of her writing, she did not lead with us, but suddenly, in the night, it came, like it did back on May 31, 1921.</p><p>I invite you to discover this book. Memorial Day Weekend is a great time to read it. Buying it from a Black owned bookstore is a great way to do it. <br /></p>Tayé Foster Bradshawhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18402958583375060035noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5442058777732356323.post-16312453161119246862021-02-07T12:05:00.001-05:002021-02-07T12:05:07.384-05:00Every Body Looking by Candice Iloh<p><span style="font-family: Crimson Text; font-size: x-large;"> B</span><span style="font-family: Crimson Text;">rilliant isn't enough.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: Crimson Text;">Neither is Breathtaking.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: Crimson Text;">Stunning? Amazing? Spectacular?</span></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-cDikuNe_mkM/YCAc67_Mx0I/AAAAAAAAi6g/PHlGosWIxE8AqIQ8pST2EWKdOZd8Y5UyQCLcBGAsYHQ/IMG_7671.JPG" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="240" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-cDikuNe_mkM/YCAc67_Mx0I/AAAAAAAAi6g/PHlGosWIxE8AqIQ8pST2EWKdOZd8Y5UyQCLcBGAsYHQ/IMG_7671.JPG" width="180" /></a></div><span style="font-family: Crimson Text;">I am hardly at a loss for words when it comes to reviewing a book I've read, especially one by a Black female author, but this one ,this heavy, weighted, artistically rendered word on paper that reminds me why I love words on print, this is one that has me searching through my dictionary and thesaurus to give an ounce of justice to the work of Candice Iloh in her debut piece.</span><p></p><p><span style="font-family: Crimson Text;">This is a book about a girl, a teenager, first daughter, Ada, who is coming to terms with herself, her heritage, and her place in a world not readily made for Black girls who imagine something different for themselves and want to discover life. It is written in her voice, alternating between these current moments of change in her life - high school graduation and the first year of college at a noted HBCU - and the memories of what has shaped her becoming.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: Crimson Text;">This is a story, all 403 pages, that does not leave one feeling like they will never make it to the end to know what happens to her. It is in verse. The entire work is in verse and while I've read and reviewed other books in verse that seemed more chapters of themes and less a cohesive story with a beginning-middle-end, Candice Iloh has shifted the expectation of how poetry and prose can meet together in the growing canon of literary works for Black teens. For that reason alone, one should buy the book.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: Crimson Text;">My <a href="http://www.hurstonandhughesliterarycircle.com" target="_blank">literary circle </a>will engage with the themes resonate in this story of not only coming-of-age, but the inner voice of a Black girl who does not have the weight of African American history holding her down but the centuries of expectations of an ancient culture that can feel just as heavy and familiar. She is an only child, carrying the hopes and dreams and works of people who want her to succeed so think the very. American thing to do is what she should do.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: Crimson Text;">But she is a dreamer, an artist, a creative, whose body holds the drumbeat of the djembe ready to make rhythm poetic. I love how she has come to herself and invites us with her to take a moment to discover that you can choose your own path, even if it is not what your parents or your society expects of you, if you are brave enough to learn to listen to your heart.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: Crimson Text;">I closed this book and held my breath. Just wanted to hold in the magic of this story, like the dancer she drew in her childhood imaginations, wanting to just be present in this space. You will feel it, too.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: Crimson Text;">You can learn more about Candice Iloh by visiting <a href="http://www.becomeher.com">www.becomeher.com</a></span></p><p><span style="font-family: Crimson Text;">You can visit the Black independent bookstore at <a href="http://www.harriettsbookshop.com" target="_blank">Harrietts Bookshop in Philadelphia</a>with their orders fulfilled by <a href="http://www.bookshop.org">www.bookshop.org</a></span></p><p>You can follow me on IG @literarydove2020 or on Twitter @lattegriot.</p><p>I am Tayé Foster Bradshaw and I Read.Write.Think.Connect<b style="caret-color: rgb(32, 33, 36); color: #202124; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;">™</b></p><p><b style="caret-color: rgb(32, 33, 36); color: #202124; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;">All rights reserved. Copyright 2021 by Antona Brent Smith</b></p><p><br /></p>Tayé Foster Bradshawhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18402958583375060035noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5442058777732356323.post-27377400182457935272021-01-30T10:13:00.000-05:002021-01-30T10:13:06.707-05:00Mothers by Brit Bennett<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><a href="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-L_DMpP1P930/YBVwJboj3tI/AAAAAAAAi5U/GpgNY0lwEeENRYrs9sRVjeaoxYAzjtgsQCLcBGAsYHQ/IMG_7532.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="display: inline;"></span></a><span style="background-color: #ffd966;"><span style="font-family: Satisfy; font-size: x-large;">H</span></span><span style="font-size: medium;">ave you every been so taken by a story that you stayed up late into the night to read it and when sleep beckoned, you wanted it to hurry up and complete it's task so you could get back to the beauty of a story? </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">That is this book,<i> Mothers</i> by Brit Bennett.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><a href="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-sWV8SzUpkdY/YBV3W8X4q5I/AAAAAAAAi5k/FIubDxYYIAYPzNkHN9LEQ68FLV9jYfZrgCLcBGAsYHQ/IMG_7533.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="240" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-sWV8SzUpkdY/YBV3W8X4q5I/AAAAAAAAi5k/FIubDxYYIAYPzNkHN9LEQ68FLV9jYfZrgCLcBGAsYHQ/IMG_7533.JPG" width="180" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">To say I loved this story does not do it enough justice. This could have been parts of my life, my story, your story, especially for those of us who either came of age in the 1980s or are parents of those who were born in the 1980s. She did a great job of bringing us into a contemporary topic and issue without dating this piece to not be relevant to the teens who will engage with me during <a href="http://www.hurstonandhughesliterarycircle.com">The Hurston and Hughes Literary Circle.</a> </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">What an accessible story she has given us. It is for teens, college students, and adults. <i>Mothers</i> is truly a multi-generational narrative about life, choices, love, existence, and acceptance.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">One of the things that makes this novel a bit unique are the at-first-unknown narrators who are part storytellers and if you ever grew up in say a Black Baptist Church, those Mothers on the front row in white suit and hats on the First Sunday who saw everything, knew everything, and mixed their gossip with their prayers because they were the keepers. It is not until we get to the last third or so of the book that these older women begin to take more shape and have names, back stories that I can imagine Brit developing into another novel, and a bit of the well-meaning tidbit of information that can change so many situations almost overnight.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">My own mother died when I was just four years old. I don't have memories of her touch or her smell, only things that have been told to me about her my entire life, similarities of her that are now my being, but I have nothing to look at except pictures. I am also the mother of sons and daughters, I know that tense feeling of wanting the best for the sons and having them avoid situations that could deter their future and I am the mother of daughters and have a wanting for them that the two central characters of this book do not possess. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><blockquote><span style="font-family: Satisfy; font-size: large;">How do we mother and do it well, how do we make choices that impact our dreams, how do we ease into life as the second love? </span></blockquote></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><i>Mothers</i> is beautifully rendered in between the lines of this story that centers Black people in a way that is full, complete, nuanced, and complex. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">This book is lyrical, there are so many lines in it that are so poetic that they awe of them literally had me closing my eyes to hold onto the feeling of her words. You must read this book. It was part of my Christmas/Kwanzaa purchases from one of the Black bookstores I've been virtually perusing since the pandemic and wanting to not do Amazon. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">My favorite, so far, bookstores to order from are powered by <a href="http://www.bookshop.org" target="_blank">Bookshop.org </a>- <a href="http://www.mahoganybooks.com">Mahogany Books</a>, <a href="https://www.harriettsbookshop.com" target="_blank">Harrietts Bookshop</a>, <a href="https://www.semicolonchi.com" target="_blank">Semicolon</a>,<a href="https://keybookstore.com" target="_blank">The Key Bookstore, </a>and now, <a href="https://www.unclebobbies.com" target="_blank">Uncle Bobbies</a>. I am adding that this is also the story of the men on the other side of women's lives. That is one of the reasons I am including this for the literary circle. There are choices that men, teen boys, are part of that impact them and the girls for the rest of their lives and they have to deal with the emotional impact also. Brit, again, does a good job of showing us a side of Black men that is not always explored in contemporary literature.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">The author worked on this as a manuscript as part of her MFA program at the University of Michigan. This is her first novel. Her second one is out now, <i>The Vanishing Half</i>, and so far, I'm hearing nothing but good things about it.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">You can follow her on Twitter at @britrbennett</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Keep up with me and what I'm reading by visiting me here, or on IG at@literarydove. I'm on twitter, @lattegriot.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><img alt="" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="240" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-L_DMpP1P930/YBVwJboj3tI/AAAAAAAAi5U/GpgNY0lwEeENRYrs9sRVjeaoxYAzjtgsQCLcBGAsYHQ/IMG_7532.JPG" width="180" /></div><br /> <p></p>Tayé Foster Bradshawhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18402958583375060035noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5442058777732356323.post-62276234471193739722021-01-17T11:38:00.004-05:002021-01-17T11:58:31.898-05:00In Search of Story<p> My daughter and I enjoy visiting bookstores</p><p>We went to a bookstore in Waterbury, Connecticut and just smiled at all the Black YA selections.</p><p>The cover art was delightful and the selections were definitely more than we had seen in years' past.</p><p>She began to consider what she wanted to read.</p><p>As she picked up a book by a set of authors we read in The Hurston and Hughes Literary Circle, she sighed. Even as she enjoyed engaging with their work before and virtually meeting them, there was a heaviness that set upon her.</p><p>What's wrong? I asked her.</p><p>It's always the same thing, she replied.</p><p>What do you mean? I queried further.</p><p>The same story arch over and over. We don't all have the same lives.</p><p>Tell me more.</p><p>Well, I know this is what sells, but it seems like they traded one stereotyped story for another.</p><p>I had to step back from my own armful of book selections to consider what she was telling me. I have lived in this independent scholar world of studying and writing about Black women's literature for so long that I just appreciated there were more and more Black women getting through the brick wall of publishing to be on the shelves in major bookstores.</p><p>What my daughter was telling me was a quandary.</p><p>We chatted more as we walked through the selections, she finally decided upon two rom-coms. One was by a Black woman and another by an Arab woman. </p><p>"We'll see what these give me." was her reply when I asked her about her selections.</p><p>I want teens to read and I want them to see themselves in the cover art and in the pages of the book. </p><p>This same daughter, in a session with the literary circle, in discussing the future of Black lit, talked about oppression as continuous theme and what it does to the psyche of Black teens. For those who are living in the middle of challenging situations (note, only 27% of the entire Black population can be considered poor, while 66% of the entire White population is, but this is not what is shown in the media. 17% of the stories about extreme poverty and challenging situations that derive from it, show white people, while well over 75% of the stories that show the same are of Black people. Even in states or cities where Black people are a minority and thus unable to be a "burden" on the social system, they are the ones the news media chooses to show in their stories). My daughter talked about this as indoctrination and how it has the potential of creating a perpetual cycle of proving one's right to exist fully as they are, even if they are a nerdy Black girl or boy who does not listen to hip hop, does not sag his pants, does not wear multicolored braids to her waist, and does not spend every dollar on some name brand thing to be relevant. That is a complete stereotype that she talked about being depicted in multiple stories, even some of the books we have chosen to read in the literary circle because of the author's debut.</p><p>So what do we do about this?</p><p>One of the things is to take notice, visit bookstores or virtual Black owned stores and notice what is being centered.</p><p>Another is to celebrate those who have made it past the editors and publishers but to also challenge each other to talk about the uncomfortable place of stereotype and singular stories.</p><p>One of the hardest is to penetrate the brick wall of the big publishing houses. To them is about what will sell and can become a self-fulfilling prophecy of stories. Indie houses and self-publishing is one way more literary stories are cutting through the noise. Another is through the growing population of IG book bloggers and book clubs. As people read more and consider literary arts, they are able to celebrate more the diversity of story and the space there is for all of Black culture to exist in pages. </p><p>A final thing is to demand more, as she did, with how she choose to spend her book dollars. </p><p>We remain in love with literature and the beauty of a good story. We also remain in search of the one that catches our breath, has us close our eyes in appreciation of the art, and ponder a time when there are more and more to chose from.</p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p>Tayé Foster Bradshawhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18402958583375060035noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5442058777732356323.post-17525440155406631992021-01-06T16:37:00.005-05:002021-01-06T16:37:41.873-05:00This is a Domestic Terrorist Attach - a Coup<p> I have that nauseous feeling, that punched-in-the-gut feeling, that hand over mouth feeling that I haven't felt since 2017 when that demon-in-chief was elected.</p><p>I am on vacation and after the Warnock-Ossoff win in Georgia, wasn't paying attention to the news. Had family plans. Then received a text about what was happening.</p><p>We are sitting in my living room watching MSNBC.</p><p>This is a coup.</p><p>They put up the flag of a domestic traitor who is a liar. Who has incited so many of these white men. This is not how this Democracy is supposed to be.</p><p>There are no logical words.</p><p>This is a coup.</p><p>These men and women with their children are white and alive on the Capital steps because they are white.</p><p>They are the domestic terrorists we told folks about in 2008, in 2012, in 2016, in 2020. We tried to tell people. This was not a fraudulent election, this was a fairly won election where that manbabynarcassist did not win. But he incited other insecure little ego, little ammosexuals, to storm the capital. This is what America has gone to war with other countries over.</p><p>I am sick to my stomach.</p><p>And good white America, this sits at your doorstep, you allowed this.</p><p>This is treason.</p>Tayé Foster Bradshawhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18402958583375060035noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5442058777732356323.post-27758741981557480752020-12-29T10:39:00.003-05:002020-12-30T10:00:07.324-05:00Reading 2021<p><span style="font-size: x-large;"> I</span><span style="font-family: Quicksand;"> am like a lot of the Bibliophiles I know, longing for the casual browse into the bookstore to find that treasure that will give us that heart fluttering, deep inhale, eyes-closed, satisfaction of a good book.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: Quicksand;"></span></p><blockquote><span style="font-family: Quicksand;">The pandemic has definitely impacted my reading and writing.</span></blockquote><p></p><p><span style="font-family: Quicksand;">A few things, first, I'm still reading and writing. This space, however has been devoted to Black women authors who write literary works. I shy away from stereotyped, one-dimensional stories of what it means to be Black and American or Black and European or Black and Latinx. We are complex and nuanced.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: Quicksand;">I've also read some amazing works by YA authors and have our list for 2021 on our Bookshelf. Many are by Black women. I love the depth of YA stories that spark conversations. Head over there for a list and if you have an Afrodiasporan teen, consider having them join us for the summer experience. We love books that give then a fuller image of their possibilities. <a href="https://hurstonandhughesliterarycircle.wordpress.com/2020/12/12/holiday-literary-list/">The Hurston and Hughes Literary Circle.</a> . </span></p><p><span style="font-family: Quicksand;">So, I'm sitting here on December 29, 2020 pondering 2021 and what I will read and review. I missed the snow that was here just before Christmas and all melted away by Christmas Eve. I did manage to sit in my kitchen, sip a latte, and read near the sun room for a few days. It was breathtakingly pristine. </span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><span style="font-family: Quicksand;"><br /></span><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-BEx7OGPzK7o/X-tLbJzOxBI/AAAAAAAAi1E/lAZdaFeqgIUv4ETB7JH5ASlRZaDplqKOwCLcBGAsYHQ/s2048/IMG_6371%2B2.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Quicksand;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-BEx7OGPzK7o/X-tLbJzOxBI/AAAAAAAAi1E/lAZdaFeqgIUv4ETB7JH5ASlRZaDplqKOwCLcBGAsYHQ/s320/IMG_6371%2B2.JPG" width="320" /></span></a></div><span style="font-family: Quicksand;"><br /></span><p></p><p><span style="font-family: Quicksand;">I'm currently finishing up Isabelle Wilkerson's book, <i>Caste.</i> It is not literary fiction, however, deserves to be read, so putting that out there. </span></p><p><span style="font-family: Quicksand;">I'm also finishing up Daniel Black's book, <i>The Coming</i>. That is literary fiction, but not by a Black woman. Dr. Black has given us something that is at once lyrical, imaginative, spiritual, healing, and promising. Read it, it will bless you.</span></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-PCKSjIF0G50/X-tJL-52YAI/AAAAAAAAi00/k3airsnkrqssTPs-akVNnYN54n-DwGUegCLcBGAsYHQ/s2048/IMG_6690.JPG" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Quicksand;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="200" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-PCKSjIF0G50/X-tJL-52YAI/AAAAAAAAi00/k3airsnkrqssTPs-akVNnYN54n-DwGUegCLcBGAsYHQ/w150-h200/IMG_6690.JPG" width="150" /></span></a></div><span style="font-family: Quicksand;">Bernice McFadden never disappoints. She always leaves me deeply thinking about the African American experience through the eyes of those not always in the spotlight. I've read and reviewed her on this site before. <i>Sugar</i> <br />is one of her books that I've possessed for a while but for some reason wasn't ready to read it. When I did, I was alternately disgusted and delighted in this decidedly woman's story of being, despite all that has happened to her and all that circumstances forced her into, she still held onto a bit of promise to live on her own terms. </span><p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-RKjzIoRDPUk/X-tIrcWigII/AAAAAAAAi0s/4ozBQnYrEcc3k4gH10HtJ8rVHgAcyghCACLcBGAsYHQ/s2048/IMG_6340%2B3.JPG" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Quicksand;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="200" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-RKjzIoRDPUk/X-tIrcWigII/AAAAAAAAi0s/4ozBQnYrEcc3k4gH10HtJ8rVHgAcyghCACLcBGAsYHQ/w150-h200/IMG_6340%2B3.JPG" width="150" /></span></a></div><span style="font-family: Quicksand;">Lauren Wilkerson has been delighting me in her novel, <i>American Spy.<br /></i> Written as a journal to her sons, back-and-forth through time, through Cointelpro, through the experiences as a Black woman in the bureau, through Connecticut, New York, Ghana, and the Caribbean. I am loving this woman's story of not really explaining herself or what happened as much as setting context for her sons so they will know why she did what she did. It is also a strong mother-daughter and sister-sister tale of being, belonging, and becoming through decisions that deemed right at the time, through loss, and through finding. </span><p></p><p><span style="font-family: Quicksand;">Connecticut is supposedly very cold in January and February. I'm on holiday until around the 19th. Lots of reading time with a warm latte and blanket. All our Nor'easter snow of earlier this month melted, but the chill outside promises enough time inside to journey to the imagination. </span></p><p><span style="font-family: Quicksand;">Books are my joy and comfort. While the pandemic has prevented me from browsing through collections at the local bookstore, through Instagram, I've had the opportunity to "visit" Black woman owned stores in Philadelphia, D.C., and Chicago. That has made me smile.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: Quicksand;"></span></p><blockquote><span style="font-family: Quicksand;">What are your 2021 reading intentions? I decided not to say goals because that seems so burdensome in a time when we have all endured the heaviness of Covid. I like intentions better, aspirations, even inspirations.</span></blockquote><blockquote><span style="font-family: Quicksand;">It is a pleasure to have this time to devote and delve into a real book. </span></blockquote><p></p><p><span style="font-family: Quicksand;">I miss my Salon. For years, a group of Black women gathered together on Third Fridays to delve into literature, much on snacks that would make a restaurant envious, and simply discuss the world as we saw it. Two of us moved from Missouri and the pandemic cut out gathering in person. Then a thought came to me this morning. We are all Zoomed out, if your work has gone to this virtual space and nothing can take the place of being in person with each other. But, what if there was a way for a group of us to do it? Not a book club, but a Salon. I'm pondering that thought.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: Quicksand;">These are my books for at least the first part of 2021. All Black women, all born in places outside America, exploring the diaspora. Snap a photo and show us what you are planning to read!</span></p><p><span style="font-family: Quicksand;"> </span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-p2eTDK34ICY/X-tGfc_YDvI/AAAAAAAAi0g/vKuC7HxNao8KVOInk8Qb7ccLUC06a-0fACLcBGAsYHQ/s2048/IMG_6689.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Quicksand;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-p2eTDK34ICY/X-tGfc_YDvI/AAAAAAAAi0g/vKuC7HxNao8KVOInk8Qb7ccLUC06a-0fACLcBGAsYHQ/s320/IMG_6689.JPG" width="320" /></span></a></div><span style="font-family: Quicksand;"><br /></span><p></p><span style="font-family: Quicksand;"><br /></span><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: Quicksand;"><br /></span></div></div><span style="font-family: Quicksand;"><br /><br /></span><p><br /></p>Tayé Foster Bradshawhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18402958583375060035noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5442058777732356323.post-979254520938210602020-09-24T04:45:00.002-04:002020-09-24T04:45:44.631-04:00Tired<p> The pages of our book will simply say we are tired.</p><p>Tired of Black women's bodies and beings not mattering.</p><p>Tired of stories of Black women's essence stolen.</p><p>Tired of Black women's tears.</p><p>This is not a book review day.</p><p>We are mourning that Breonna Taylor's life meant less than the walls of her white neighbors.</p><p>Perhaps there will be a book written about the powerful Black women who have been lifting voice for Breonna for 120 days straight in Louisville.</p><p>Today, though, we are tired.</p>Tayé Foster Bradshawhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18402958583375060035noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5442058777732356323.post-8887094573419665772020-05-24T07:00:00.000-04:002020-05-24T07:00:14.988-04:00Red at the Bone by Jacqueline WoodsonFamilies are dynamic.<br />
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Families are unique.<br />
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Families are fluid.<br />
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Families are us.<br />
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Jaqueline Woodson introduces us to a nuanced family story in her lyrical way of dropping nuggets of deep meaning in an offering that is redeeming.<br />
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This is one story. One family. Yet, so many of us who are African American can resonate with the tale of yearning and acceptance; loss and redemption; belonging and longing.<br />
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Told through the alternating voices of everyone in this small unit, she gives us a glimpse of the choices we all make when faced with circumstances that may or may not alter the rest of our lives.<br />
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This is a modern story, yet timeless. It stretches back to wisdom and wit to save a bit, to own one's dreams, and to leave something for the next generation. It is as modern as when I was in college in the mid80s and a young parent in the early 90s. Woodson expertly drops in cultural markers that familiarize this story while keeping its message eternal.<br />
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<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/--pyvqCM07FM/Xsmb-dbnGLI/AAAAAAAAiHU/shrkhVIxGEYbzRV3gTNzdqC3OoU_7Lc1gCLcBGAsYHQ/s1600/Screen%2BShot%2B2020-05-23%2Bat%2B4.41.05%2BPM.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1186" data-original-width="828" height="320" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/--pyvqCM07FM/Xsmb-dbnGLI/AAAAAAAAiHU/shrkhVIxGEYbzRV3gTNzdqC3OoU_7Lc1gCLcBGAsYHQ/s320/Screen%2BShot%2B2020-05-23%2Bat%2B4.41.05%2BPM.png" width="223" /></a>It is as much the story of a teenage girl's coming out party as much as it is her mother's story of self-discovery, her father's story of belonging, and her grandparent's story of settling into a place.<br />
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Set in the New York of Woodson's own family story, this invites us to ponder how we arrived at a place and what it took to stay there, who we count in as being a part of us, and how we decide when the us as family may be too stifling, for a time, and we have to find our own way.<br />
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Melody, Iris, and Sabe, three generations of women, are the central figures of this tale that is beyond mother-daughter, but has the subtle thread that pulls us into the complexities of expectation and custom.<br />
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Malcolm, Aubrey, and PoBoy are the men in these women's lives who have the other side of the story, remembering things similarly and differently, allowing us to have a full picture of a self. Their voices are different, each told through the looking glass of time.<br />
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This is a beautifully written book that leaves us with enough hope for all their futures.<br />
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I picked up this book on Friday afternoon. It is Memorial Day Weekend. It is a time in my own late father's family when we would have all arrived at one of his siblings' homes in the Benton Harbor area for a long weekend of BBQ, family gatherings, and a memorial walk to the cemetery. We would have told the stories so they would not have been forgotten. My father and all his siblings are gone now. I am far from his migratory childhood from Arkansas to Michigan, and yet, the memories flooded me as I read this story of yearning and wanting, of love and disappointment, of acceptance and resilience. Jacqueline Woodson has gifted us again. You still have time to read it this weekend and carry the treasure with you for a long time to come.Tayé Foster Bradshawhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18402958583375060035noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5442058777732356323.post-58826620649938129062020-05-22T13:34:00.000-04:002020-05-22T14:21:41.682-04:00SLAY by Brittney MorrisI adored this book.<br />
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She found her way to my shelf almost by accident. I was thinking about what to bring to The Hurston and Hughes Literary Circle for the summer of 2020. It was at the beginning of the school year and I was out shopping, picked up this book somewhere, may have even been in my travels. I was drawn by the strong art on the cover and did a quick glimpse at the back cover to be sure it was a Black female author. Criteria met for the reading circle. Then, she sat on my TBR pile because the start of the school year was a busy one for me.<br />
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She found her way to me again. It was my daughter's 16th birthday and I was trying to find the perfect book for her. I always give books on birthdays, Christmas, and Kwanzaa. This time, It was purchased on a trip and it was signed by the author, perfect gift for my girl who is beyond brilliant. Initially she commented, "Mom, you know we have a copy of this right?" I said, "Yes, but not signed."<br />
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I'm so glad I gifted myself the week to read this book that centers a Black high school girl in a nuanced and powerful story. There is nothing typical about SLAY, if there were even such a thing as a typical Black teen story. If there is even such a thing as the "typical Black teen story." Brittany Morris has given us a gift in a protagonist who is as contemporary as Slack and TikTok and as timeless as adolescents forging an identity separate from what they think are their parents expectations.<br />
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The protagonist, Kiera, lives in Bellevue, Washington. Not a very populous state for African American teens. She is a senior in high school and has a little sister. It almost mirrored my family dynamic. I settled in for a delight. She is in a life place that was not unlike my older daughter when she was 17 and trying to figure out colleges. Was the place she thought of all these years the place she really wanted to attend? What did she want? And what pressures did she feel being a superior minority in her high school? How exhausting was it to be the encyclopedia of Blackness? Kiera, like my daughter, wanted an escape from that pressure and like my daughter, was primarily considering a place where she could just be herself.<br />
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This book covers issues of identity, who is Black and Black enough, if there is one way to be Black or not in a country that often considered being African American a problem to be eradicated. It is a book of discovery of oneself and what one really ones out of life and yes, it is a book about a video game developer who finds more truth than she imagined.<br />
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Brittney Morris gives us a beautiful story of self-discovery and a glimpse of what the next generation of young Black adults can be if they embrace the possibility that all of us can be excellent, that there isn't one way to be Black, and that the talents are endless.<br />
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I highly recommend this book.<br />
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Follow the author on Twitter @BrittneyMMorris.<br />
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Follow me on Twitter @lattegriot<br />
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I am Taye´ Foster Bradshaw and my girls SLAY all day!<br />
<br />Tayé Foster Bradshawhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18402958583375060035noreply@blogger.com0