Brown Girl Dreaming by Jacqueline Woodson

Source of book: Audiobook from the library. 

 

For some reason, we have tended to listen to books by or about African Americans on our trips to Shaver Lake over the years. I still associate that drive (which is pretty wicked with a trailer and underpowered truck) with Claudette Colvin: Twice Toward Justice. This time, we chose Brown Girl Dreaming. While the book was memorable, I must confess that the most memorable part of this trip turned out to be having to evacuate because of the Creek Fire, which started about the time we arrived, and blew up out of control overnight. 2020 sucks. It really does. 

 

But the book most definitely does NOT suck. It is a rather lovely book, and made me put a few more Jacqueline Woodson books on our list. Brown Girl Dreaming is a rather unusual sort of literature. It is non-fiction in poetry. Woodson tells the story of her childhood in (mostly) free verse. Because she narrates the audiobook, we get to hear her voice telling her story in her own poetic way. It is a good combination. While most of the book is in free verse, there are a number of short parts in other forms from haiku to hymn stanzas. 

 

Woodson was born in Ohio, but later moved with her mother and siblings to segregated South Carolina to live with her mother’s parents. Later, they move to New York City. The story itself ends with Woodson still a child - teen, I believe - but dreaming of becoming an author, thanks to an encouraging teacher. In between are the usual, everyday things that most of us experience. She was clearly loved by her family, and grew up about as happy as any of us can. But also, her parents divorce, her grandfather dies, her favorite uncle is incarcerated (and later converts to Islam), her younger brother nearly dies from lead poisoning, and her mom has a child with a white man who is never part of their lives. In an interesting twist from the usual narrative, Woodson was raised as a Jehovah’s Witness, although her parents never really bought into the faith. (Grandma was the one who pushed it…) Woodson herself fully rejected that faith, presumably in part because of her sexuality. I found the description of the JW lifestyle and community to be wonderfully nuanced. Woodson in general writes with a non-judgmental tone, looking for the positive. 

 

[Personal note here: While I am not a fan of the cultic aspects of the Jehovah’s Witness organization - particularly the family shunning - I know and respect a number of people who are part of that faith. Most notable was the family next door to us when I was ages 9 through 16. They were a mixed race family - he was white, she was black, and their kids could have passed for Latinix - and often did at school: the racial ambiguity helped them avoid pressure to join local gangs, which were a problem in the neighborhood. As the other family on the block that didn’t tolerate swearing, we made common cause with their kids, and gained a sort of popularity because together we made sure our sports games in the street or backyard were always fair and civil.] 

 

One of the things that is nice about this book is that it isn’t specifically civil rights oriented - although obviously any realistic autobiography set in the 1950s and 60s would have to include some references to the movement and to experiences of racism. But Woodson focuses on the everyday in this book. Friendships, school, relationships, life’s complexity and variety. She describes the settings in a way that make them seem real and vibrant. Her extended family seems so real and so ordinary-in-the-best-possible-way. There isn’t really a central arc to the narrative in this case, because it is just her life, as she and her family (for the early parts before and after she was born) remember it. She lives and grows and loves and grieves and just is. 

 

Don’t get me wrong. We have listened to plenty of books about civil rights, and I think they are an important part of my kids’ education. But important too is to hear ordinary stories about ordinary things. No matter who you are, rich or poor, white or black, the fabric of our lives tends to be those everyday moments and the people who are dear to us. Experiencing that human universal is important too - humans are more alike than different, regardless of what white supremacy tries to convince us. And likewise, cultural values are more similar than we tend to think. We have far more in common than not. 

 

As I said, I have added some more Woodson to our list, because this book was quite enjoyable. It is also appropriate for all ages, although the very small might not have the vocabulary yet. Woodson did a fine job narrating her book as well. Not all authors should read their own books, but Woodson is perfect for her stories. The audio version adds to the story because of what Woodson brings to it.