The Hate U Give....Gets all the Love!

I went back and forth between 4 and 5 stars. I landed at 5 when I realized the reason I wanted to only give 4 was because the book made me feel... kinda dumb.

Listen, straight up, I’m white and middle class and I felt “icky” while reading this book - like I was poking my nose where it didn’t belong- and that’s where the 5 stars came in.

This book peeled back the curtain for people like me (yes, white) to understand something that we fundamentally cannot. Race isn’t just color- I said it. It’s culture and it’s a community and it’s a way of life that if you aren’t a part of it- you’re going to have a hard time understanding and that’s ok! It’s ok to admit that I don’t know what it is to grow up black. This book allows us a direct first-person viewpoint unlike any other book that I have read. Just like the character Chris- the white guy- in the book- we can accept other races and cultures, we can try, and we can love each other and respect each other - but we cannot be each other. And this book tells us - hey it’s ok but here’s a perspective you may have never considered. And just wow. I’m better for having read this. Bravo to Angie Thomas for making me self reflect and get comfortable in my naivety. And thank you for sharing this with the world. Read this book.

Semi Spoiler- This book was the story of a sixteen year old black girl growing up in an underprivileged black community while attending a priviledged, all white school forty-five minutes away. I absolutely loved how she struggled to separate two personas – her black self- who she was with her family and her neighbors and her “other” self- who attempted to tamp down her blackness when she was with her white school friends.

This book shocked me in the rawness of the way it opened up the lines of communication about race- the author actually has the white character ask why black people have weird names….. I know it’s a book and that it wasn't a real conversation happening, but I swear, my inclination was to clap my hand over my mouth. I was reeling- like, dude! Don’t say that! But then the white sheltered part of me was all like, yeah, I mean, why do they have different names…..

This book points out your ignorance and holds a mirror up to you and says, oh, yeah? You, white person, who thinks you are all about equality and everyone is the same and you aren’t racist- maybe you do have some thoughts that you didn’t even know you were stuffing down.

The question and it makes sense and now I’ve learned something. I’d be lying if I didn’t hear the Philadelphia Eagles lineup and sometimes say- what kinda name is that? kinda name is that? Well, you know what y’all- what kinda name is Charleston or Arianna? Those are my kid’s names and they are weird. I am telling you, I know it. They. Are. Weird. When I explain that my son’s name is my maiden name it seems less weird and when I tell you that Arianna is a combination of the letters from my husband's and my four grandmothers that’s less weird too, but you need the backstory before you hear the names and roll your eyes. And when people ask me my kids names I don’t say “Oh, this is Charleston, his name is my maiden name, and we know it sounds pretentious, so we just call him Charlie.” You see- that would be ridiculous. So who the heck am I to judge? Point taken.