The Short and Tragic Life of Robert Peace by Jeff Hobbs

I think that it is important that we tell our own stories, but if we are not around to tell them, then I guess that is where people like Jeff Hobbs come into play...

Jeff Hobbs did a great job of telling Robert Peace’s story.

So, according to Hobbs, Peace had the type of discipline that helps people to flourish; attending a prestigious private high school he would get to school around 4:45am to work at the pool to help his family out financially, he studied his father’s criminal case and made it possible for his father to get out of jail for awhile, he learned how to swim in the 9th grade and became a pretty good water polo player and went on to play for Yale, he studied and earned good grades which compelled a millionaire to give him a free ride to Yale, all while maintaining a healthy social life.

At Yale, he played on the water polo team, had great grades, took his job working in the cafeteria and cleaning the university during the school’s academic breaks seriously, worked in a lab on cancer cells, graduated with a degree in molecular biochemistry, all while maintaining a healthy social life.

After graduating from Yale, he went back to teach at the high school where he attended, worked as a luggage person for the Newark airport and traveled the world, and helped his mother to care for his aging grandparents all while maintaining a healthy social life.

All seems well with Peace right...

However, he sold drugs all through college and after college, and the drug involvement eventually ended his life at 30 years old, and I am not so sure if the healthy social life was healthy at all. Read an article about his death here.

I can not stop thinking about Peace and what went wrong??? Why would a Yale student and graduate sell drugs?

At first, I thought maybe it was about needing money?

However, he worked while in college and did not need to worry about tuition or books, that was taken care of. After college, I am wondering if he applied for jobs and just did not get one, or was he tired of academic pressures and just needed a break, or was he trying to secure financial freedom for his mom and himself after he graduated.

I guess these are questions that we will never know.

I have thought about Coates thoughts on The American Dream and if it is attainable and exactly what it is?

When a person gets a degree or two, a job, a house, 2.5 children, does that mean that the person has acquired The American Dream, and I wonder if Peace thought that these things were impossible for him or if he even wanted these things...

This book made me think a lot about Peace’s mother, and other people like her, who worked faithfully in a cafeteria all of her life and never made enough money to achieve The America Dream: house, car, or to change her social standing. I wonder if Peace rejected the idea of being a slave to a job like his mother and never being able to change his social status in The United States of America?

Aren’t we suppose to follow all of the rules, work hard, and achieve The American Dream?

At Yale he could not just drop the fact that sometimes there was no food in house, his mom spent almost all of her earnings to send him to private schools, his father was in jail for murder, and many of his friends who went to the same private high school as he did were still in Newark trying to make ends meet. I wonder if focusing on his reality made The American Dream seem like a silly idea that only a few White people achieved so he resorted to what he knew?

Hobbs mentions that Peace attended his classes in both high school and college, but knew how to be “invisible”. I wonder if this had to do with the feeling of “Do I belong here or being a fraud." Which leads me to the idea of systematic marginalization....The idea of the system being set up to keep some people at the bottom and some people on the top. And the people at the bottom have no business at a prestigious high school or Yale. I know that when I ventured off to Michigan State for graduate school, I could never find my place and had many miserable days. I also thought that having a degree from one of the top school’s of education in the country would guarantee me a job, but that was not the case. Michigan State graduated me and sent me on my way just like Yale did Peace.

Then, I started to think about race as a social construct as Coates talks about in his book Between the World and Me. If we put people into groups, then it allows some people to be at the top and some to be on the bottom, and the people at the bottom can never change their social standing EVER. There is no them without us type of thing. And, I wonder if Peace always felt that he did not belong in either his prestigious high school and college, but he felt that he belonged at the bottom where he could make his own rules and the government would only interfere, by policing, to keep him in his place, at the bottom.

Now, these are all ideas that I am throwing around in my mind in order to try and understand why a Yale graduate ended up being tragically killed over drugs?

My People, I can’t shut my brain off, and I don’t want too....

Hobbs does a beautiful job of telling Peace’s story carefully and with dignity, and I think that this is a story that needs to be added to this conversation on race that we are having today!

This book reminded me a lot of Men We Reaped by Jesmyn Ward and systematic marginalization and belonging. Jesmyn’s story is almost the same as Peace's with a different location.

My next read is How to Slowly Kill Yourself and Others in America by Kiese Laymon.

It’s still summer!

Men We Reaped by Jesmyn Ward

Arlington County Virginia had a series called Black Lives Matter, and Jesmyn was one of the speakers....

Jesmyn started speaking with a sweet southern twang, and she completely captivated me and the rest of the audience. She told her heartfelt experience with racism in the South in a manner that was not abrasive nor in a manner that would put people off but in a manner that was very forthright yet inviting. 

I did not have great experiences with Jesmyn first two novels, so I was only going to this forum to hear her speak; I was not planning to buy the book. But, after hearing her speak, I bought the book and looked forward to learning more about Jesmyn’s story.

I started reading this incredible story, and I was captivated from the first page until the last. There were parts of this book that I had to read and reread and think and think. Being a Southern girl myself, I identified with this memoir, and my heart was saddened to the core. 

She tells her story of growing up in DeLisle, Mississippi in an impoverished situation where there seem to be little to no hope. In the telling of her story, we learn about the complexity of her family and the complexity of living in Mississippi. With this novel, she very boldly, yet subtly, posed the question of Do Black Lives Matter, and I also was left asking myself if our lives matter to us...... 

Jesmyn merges the telling of her story with the story of five young men, including her brother, who died premature deaths. Reading about the death of each of these young Black men who all died in different manners, and only one of them, her brother, died by the direct hands of someone else, I am still pondering did society, by not seeing and acknowledging these young men, contribute to their deaths indirectly??

I identified and connected with this novel more than I thought that I would, and when I finished I could not keep myself from crying and wondering Where Do We Go From Here?

This is a story that will make people uncomfortable and maybe sad, but I also hope that it makes us have open, honest conversations about race and place in this country which may lead to some sort of plan of action. 

This is a very important book, and it needs to be included in the important conversations that we are having today in this country on race...

This book is short, well-written, and it should be read and discussed over and over again.

All praises to Jesmyn Ward for having the courage to tell this courageous story.....

This book is more confirmation that We Must Tell Our Stories!

Me and Jesmyn Ward

Big, Huge GIANT!

Me, Jesmyn, and my braids!

In a talk at a public library, Jesymn Ward courageously told her story of racism in America....

After hearing her talk, I thought about this big, huge GIANT that I have been wrestling with since Monday night, and I felt that Jesmym gave me permission to tell this story.

Let me give you some background info before I tell you about this big, huge GIANT.

I am in the midst of a hair transition. After much persuasion by my stylist, I decided to give my natural hair a try. Basically, I am no longer chemically processing my hair to make it permanently straight. For my readers who are not Black, a perm is a chemical process that many Black people do to their hair in order to make it permanently straight, and that is where the name perm comes from.

While in transition, I decided to try something new: BRAIDS.

My people, I had so many negative preconceived notions about braids, and I probably was secretly thinking that others were thinking the same way. However, I worked through all of my baggage and stepped out and tried something new.

The day after I had my hair braided, I listened to "I Am Not My Hair" by India Arie every time that I was in my car trying desperately to convince myself that "I am not my hair." That message finally sunk in, and I heard a very clear voice say that "Black people are sooooo fortunate, we have the kind of hair that is versatile; we can perm it, braid it, wear a fro, wear it curly, and the possibilities go on and on and on." With this in mind, I have boldly been walking around with my hair braided with PRIDE. As a matter of fact, I am really digging them.

So, here is the big, huge GIANT....

Monday, I was on a group bike ride, and we were having a ride that was quite enjoyable. I was super excited for one of my friends who faced her fears and came out for her first group ride, and she rocked it.

Out of what seems no where, a White cyclist, who is a dear friend whom I value having in my life, asked:

"You still got those braids in your hair?"

My heart skipped a beat, and I responded:

"Yes."

She went on to say:

"It's been three weeks."

Now, my ten year old self sort of wanted to cry. (Here is a Black girl being publicly questioned about her hair.)

My twenty year old self wanted to pull her off that bike and beat the crap out of her for doing what I felt was totally inappropriate. (We spend enough time together for her to have asked me one on one.)

My thirty year old self wanted to say something curt like "Why do you care?"

However, my forty-something self, just keep on pedaling.....

And, I have been wresting with this big, huge GIANT ever since.

I have thought about all of the young Black girls who may not want to go to overnight play dates or go swimming in mixed crowds, because they do not want to have to explain about their hair. (This makes my heart soooo sad.)

So, I have asked the same question over and over again: Why would she ask me about my hair?

"Does me wearing braids make her uncomfortable?"

"Is she curious about my braids?"  (She could have asked me one on one?)

"Is she implying that my hair is dirty by saying it's been three weeks, or has my hair been braided to long for her? (Not sure why she would care?)

She sent me a text to ask me about riding with her on Tuesday, but I chose to go cycling with people who look like me, with hair similar to mine, so I would not have to explain about my hair.

I have been wrestling with this big, huge GIANT since Monday....

I have wanted to text and/or her call her to ask her "Why?'"

I have also been doing a lot of self-reflection as well......

"Maybe I'm overreacting?"

"Maybe she tapped into my insecurities about the braid?"

and on and on and on...

I've been wanting to scream from the mountain top: "WHITE PEOPLE, IF YOU DON'T UNDERSTAND BLACK HAIR; GET OVER IT!"

I have been wrestling with this big, huge GIANT since Monday, and to finally win, I had to write this blog to release it.

I'm soooo grateful to Jesmyn Ward for giving me permission to tell this quite painful story in order to finally beat this huge, big GIANT!

Here is "I Am Not My Hair" by India Irie:

Please, share your thoughts, because I want to know them.....

I'm an open vessel!!!

Jesmyn Ward.......

Me and Jesmyn Ward!

Hearing Jesmyn speak tonight spoke to my heart...

Jesmyn, telling her story, has given me the courage to write about something that I just can't shake.

Check back for the blog soon!!!

My people, there is value in telling our stories......

Arlington Reads 2015: Jesmyn Ward and Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie

Super excited that these two authors are visiting Arlington, Virginia very soon....

Here are links to books by Jesmyn Ward that I have reviewed:

Where the Lines Bleed
Salvage the Bones

And, here are links to books by Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie that I have reviewed:

Purple Hibiscus
Americanah
Half of a Yellow Sun

Consider reading something by these ladies and meeting me at Central Library in Arlington, Virginia.

Writer's Rock!!

Where The Lines Bleeds by Jesmyn Ward

Don't waste your time....Really!!!

Jesmyn starts this book with a quote from Genesis in The Bible. The quote is about Rebekah whose twins struggled with each other while Rebekah was pregnant with them. Then she introduces these twins named Christopher and Joshua. This seems like the making for a good story right? Well, Jesmyn never develops this story.

I was expecting for the twins to have a fight and split-up and there would be some drama, but nothing like that happened at all. Jesmyn tells this story of the twins who were raised by their grandmother. They graduate from high school and one twin gets a job at a shipyard and the other twin starts selling drugs. There is an absent mother and father who reappear in their lives, but Jesmyn does absolutely nothing with any of this, and she basically just ends this story, leaving a lot to be desired.

This book has all the makings for a good story, but just like Salvage the Bones, Jesmyn fails to deliver a good story.

Jesmyn.... REALLY?

My people, don't waste your time or money......

Disappointed for sure!

My next read is Catcher in the Rye by J.D. Salinger.

Salvage The Bones by Jesmyn Ward

I am from a small town outside of Mobile, Alabama called Mt. Vernon, Alabama. One of the colleges in that area is the University of South Alabama. Now, I know that there are scholars who work for The University of South Alabama, but I have not heard of any until I heard about Jesmyn Ward.

My sister, Dorothy, who is one my sources for intellectual stimulation, sent me a link about a professor at the University of Alabama who won the 2011 National Book Award Winner for fiction. Also, my nephew, Vance, sent me a link to an article about this same book. His motive was a little bit different than Dot's; he really wanted me to know that a cute girl had written a book who just happens to live in Mobile, the same place where he lives. However, he also let me know that he was waiting for me to write my book. (You got to love Vance Lang.)

I downloaded Salvage the Bone and another book by Jesmyn Ward: Where the Lines Bleed. Before I give my thoughts about this book, let me say that I will not rip a part a writer who teaches in my home state, but I have to state the truth as I know it: I disliked this book a whole bunch. (Ok, I said it. Now, I can breathe.)

This book is about a girl named Esch, her dad, her three brothers, and a dog named China and her pups. The story is not very cohesive. I definitely get what Jesmyn is trying to do: parallel the life of a dog with  puppies with the life of a fifteen year old girl who is pregnant? (I guess!)

To be honest, I went into the reading of this book with a lot of high hopes, but it failed to delivery. If I had to sum this book up in a few lines, I really couldn't do it. Something was missing.......

I just can't give up on a writer who teaches in my own home state. So, I will read her other book: Where The Lines Bleed. (Pray for me!)

Salvage the Bone is definitely not on my list of books to read again, but you should try it and enlighten me, and I just might try it again.

However, Vance Lang is right. She is cute!