You Ain’t Slick and I Ain’t Stupid: A Book Review
To quote a movie I cannot stand, this book had me at “hello” and held onto me all the way to goodbye.
After a wonderful, family-filled, post-Thanksgiving day, complete with family, a workout, a walk in the snow, and an after-dinner movie, we joked about crashing the Michigan frat parties that were likely just starting up as we trodded off to bed, the hour still in the single digits. But if I’m not staying up for parties anymore (yeah, right, ’cause I used to all the time ...) there is one thing that will keep my light on. Like Sisters on the Homefront, a 1996 Coretta Scott King Honor Book by Rita Williams-Garcia, meant I didn’t turn it off until about one o’clock this morning.
Sisters grabs you from the first page, when Gayle’s mother, hearing the bathroom door too many times in a row, immediately knows something is up. And immediately knows what that something is. Gayle’s voice rings and sings through perfect prose as the defiant 14-year-old is dragged to an abortion clinic by her mother and then sent away from her beloved New York City to live with relatives down south.
Gayle already has one child, a baby who comes with her on the journey and is indeed with her every moment of the day. Gayle struggles mightily against her God-fearing, Jesus-worshipping family, but even as you know what’s coming, or think you know, this book will have you turning the pages quickly.
Whether you fall for Gayle immediately (like “Great” does, the family matriarch who lies dying in her bed and shares life-changing stories of the past with her) or whether it takes you some time to warm up to her (like her cousin “Cookie” who can belt out the Lord’s music like nobody’s music, might depend on who you are and where you’ve been. But that you will fall in love for her I have no doubt.
Title: Like Sisters on the Homefront
Author: Rita Williams-Garcia
Age: 7th grade and up
True, this book deals with adult themes: A very young girl is a mother, and on top of that she’s experiencing the pains of abortion throughout much of the story.
But this isn’t pain for pain’s sake. This book feels real. You meet these characters so intimately, you will ultimately feel like your mother sent you down South to live with them. Some mothers might shy away from a book like this, but to the extent that it’s appropriate for me to do so, I would discourage that. This book is filled with positive messages, the good kind that are honest, learned the hard way, and rooted in a messy but caring family.
If you read this book with your daughter, there are a lot of good conversations you could have at the end. (Hint: One of them does NOT start out with the phrase “ . . . and that’s why you shouldn’t have sex until you are 35!”)
But Gayle has been using sex to get something she doesn’t have anywhere else. What is it? And why doesn’t she have it? Gayle talks about about the baby’s daddy and her latest boyfriend, but we don’t see them at all in the book. Why not? Ask your daughter about it. What is the difference between Gayle and Cookie when Cookie finally admits her own crush? And what happens that fateful night when Cookie rushes to the car? What is Cookie thinking and why does what happens next happen?
If you’re not ready for the romantic/sexual side of the conversation, this book has a lot more to offer about family and history. Why is everyone so keen to hear the “Telling” before Great passes away? What does it mean to know one’s own history and why does that matter? There’s a wonderful passage where Great tells Gayle she should never be angry at another African because they could be family, separated by slavery, time and geography. Isn’t that something we could all learn?
The last line in this book is still whispering itself softly between my ears. The imagery of the scene is dancing in my mind, even after a good night’s sleep, even after a morning with my own family, which I appreciate through the lens of this newly-read book, resting on my brain, now a part of me.
As Gayle often says, she “ain’t stupid.” But that doesn’t mean she has nothing to learn.
And that’s why we read.
Wendy Lawrence's posts are also available at TheFamilyThatReadsTogether.Google+