I read
All American Boys in response to the police violence of last week. The news read like a dystopian novel: police officers had killed 2 more African Americans, and an army veteran had shot 12 policemen, 5 fatally, in retaliation. Then DeRay Mckesson, a Black Lives Matter activist, was arrested with undue force during a peaceful protest in Baton Rouge, Louisiana. The incident was captured on his and other cell phones and went viral. My tweet in support of DeRay caught the attention of racist trolls, whom I ignored.
DeRay's violent arrest hit me on a personal level. I'd heard him speak eloquently at his alma mater, Bowdoin College, and no one is working harder than he is to find a non-violent, political solution to the problem of police brutality. My husband teaches politics at Bowdoin and is friends with DeRay. We were appalled by his arrest. After making a
donation for the protestors' bail and legal services, I retreated to the comfort of a good book.
All American Boys tackles police brutality and racism with a gritty realism that will resonate with both teens and adults. This empowering story is narrated in alternating voices: Rashad, the black victim, and Quinn, his white classmate who witnesses the beating and runs away. The coauthors,
Jason Reynolds and
Brendan Kiely, mirror the ethnicity of their protagonists.
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Author Jason Reynolds |
In the opening chapter, Rashad changes out of his junior ROTC uniform into street clothes and stops at a convenience store to buy a snack. When a white woman accidentally trips over Rashad and falls, the shopkeeper accuses him of theft. A white policeman drags Rashad outside and beats him so badly that he requires hospitalization. The incident is caught on cell phones and goes viral. Without his consent, Rashad becomes a hashtag.
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Author Brendan Kiely |
Quinn, the teenage eyewitness, struggles with his conscience. The brutal policeman was no stranger; Paul is his best friend's older brother. When Quinn's dad died while fighting in Afghanistan, Paul had stepped in as a surrogate big brother and taught him how to shoot hoops. Quinn's basketball prowess may earn him a free ride to college. Quinn is torn between his loyalty to Paul and "doing the right thing." The moral dilemma plays out at home, at school and on the basketball court as friends and family take opposing sides.
All American Boys is anti-brutality but not anti-police. All the characters have strengths and weaknesses; they are realistically human. Although the protagonists are boys, many of the strongest characters are girls and women. The story is emotionally challenging but easy to follow. After an explosive start, the pace slows in the middle as momentum builds to the climax. The heart-wrenching ending left me in tears but not without hope. I'd strongly recommend
All American Boys to everyone, whatever your age, ethnicity or gender. This powerful book should be required reading in American high schools and at police academies. It would make for an excellent book group discussion too.
By the time I'd finished reading
All American Boys, our friend DeRay had been released on bond and is now back at his advocacy work. Follow this
link to his Campaign Zero for an interactive tool that allows you to track the progress of police violence legislation on the local, state and national levels. Change isn't going to happen unless we hold legislators accountable and push for progress.
Reviewer's Disclosure: I bought this book in 2015 and lost it in my to-be-read stack. Thanks to a nudge from YA author
I.W. Gregorio of
We Need Diverse Books, I remembered to read it now. Another book we both recommend is Ta-Nehisi Coates's memoir,
Between the World and Me. I write and review YA fiction, but my academic degrees are in Political Science. Author photos are from twitter.