Many of these book write-ups are geared towards parents, but the best part of the 15+ category is being able to talk directly to the readers. None of you need me to summarize this book for you or break it down. Simply put, it is an exchange between two voices, one Black and one white, and what makes it interesting from a literary perspective is that this dialogue is also reflected in the dual authorship. Jason Reynolds, who is Black, writes the Rashad chapters, and Brandon Kiely, who is white, narrates the Quinn chapters. Please do read both authors’ acknowledgments at the end of the novel and note the clear friendship that developed between the two of them.

I was taken by the short time-frame of this novel, just a week and a day, and yet – as in life -- so much happens. The book captures a sense of time, one perhaps most keenly felt as a high school student: it seems to be going by so quickly, and yet the day in/ day out of school can feel long, as if so much is happening in the span of each day. (Perhaps time is all relative in this Covid era!)

In a poignant chapter in All American Boys, the students, in a somewhat revolutionary act, read the first chapter of Ralph Ellison’s Invisible Man aloud. Some of you may have already read this book, or you will have hopefully read it by the end of high school or in a college course on 20th century American literature. This chapter, called “The Battle Royal,” was initially published as a short story in 1947, five years before the complete book was published. You can read it here, and see a PBS video about it here. (Parents: please watch and make sure you consider it appropriate).

Although published in 2015, Reynolds and Kiely touch upon topics incredibly relevant right now in 2020. Rashad talks about seeing the video of what happened to him over and over again, the constant streaming of it on devices. There is something incredibly traumatic happening in our culture with social media and 24-hour news. We see violence rendered to bodies (and all too often Black bodies), and we don’t always pay attention to the intense damage that can do, most especially to young people. What must it be like for young Blacks to have to watch people who look like them being killed – and not to watch it once, but over and over again? We have not begun nearly enough to deal with the fear this generates in the body, nor the secondary trauma caused by this. (Parents, if you have not yet read The Body Keeps the Score: Brain, Mind, and Body in the Healing of Trauma by Bessel van der Kolk, I highly recommend it). This same kind of secondary trauma happened after 9/11, with the non-stop streaming of the towers being destroyed. It happens when we see the videos of Columbine and other school shootings. There are differing responses to witnessing violence like this multiple times. One is to potentially grow immune to it, which is what many fear has happened with regard to the number of school shootings and how little gun control policy has changed. It is the reason why the young activists after Marjorie Stoneham Douglas felt compelled to initiate March For Our Lives. (You can join and get updates here). There is also the justifiable stance that says it is absolutely necessary to watch these videos so that no one can deny what is taking place, thereby making us all witnesses, and thus responsible to do something – that all of us are accountable. For additional reading, see this article from CNN that addresses the idea of “trauma porn;” this article in The New Republic that addresses the devaluing of Black bodies, including through the airing of violent videos; and this article in Teen Vogue that addresses systemic racism and vicarious trauma. 

The fear of growing numb is why Black Lives Matter insists that we “Say Her Name” and remember the actual specific lives that have been lost. There is a scene in the novel where a teacher is called out for not saying Rashad’s name, but merely referring to him as a “student from our school.” The student response is to let the teacher know that Rashad should not be rendered invisible, that it is necessary to speak his name aloud.

There are some good examples of white allies in this novel, including Molly and Jill. But what does it mean to be an ally? How does a white person become an accomplice in the fight for civil rights? How much risk are they willing to entail? How do whites use the power inherent in their white bodies in the struggle of Black, indigenous, and people of color? My daughter’s professor at McGill University shared this powerful video of Bettina Love, talking about what it means to be a white accomplice, a co-conspirator.

This novel offers a mini-lesson in some other key terms of antiracism, including white privilege (see # 5!!), systemic racism, race as a social construct, and color blindness (not a positive term!) Quinn, for example, has awareness of his white privilege in the high school cafeteria setting, and how different groups are seated. (Parents: some of you might want to consider reading some of these antiracist texts by Black authors, including Ibram X. Kendi’s How to Be an Antiracist? and So You Want To Talk About Race by Ijeoma Olua. This particular scene made me think of the book Why Are All the Black Kids Sitting Together in the Cafeteria and Other Conversations About Race by Beverly Daniel Tatum).

Reynolds and Kiely also introduce issues that are not new, but are very pertinent to our time right now: police brutality, the power of protests, and political activism (especially on the part of youth). How many of you have attended protests? In these days of Covid, it may be necessary to find alternate ways of engaging in peaceful protest, and certainly one right now is to become politically engaged: to read newspapers and books, gain knowledge of the facts, and then get involved in signing petitions and contacting your representatives via email and snail mail. (One book to consider reading might be Jason Reynold’s co-authored version of Ibram X. Kendi’s Stamped: Racism, Antiracism, and You: A Remix of the National Book Award-winning Stamped from the Beginning, which is specifically targeted to young adult readers). What other things can you do – even if from the safety of your home – to be an accomplice, to not stand idly by? One suggestion might be to do a fundraiser using social media tools to support an organization of your choice that is combatting antiracism and fighting for social justice. Here are a just few you might want to consider: The Equal Justice Initiative, your local Black Lives Matter chapter, your local NAACP chapter, or The Southern Poverty Law Center. If you are a member of a church, synagogue, or mosque, you can get involved with their social justice action committees. You can also support Black-owned businesses (all the books for this subscription, for example, are purchased from Black-owned bookstores via Bookshop). Both parents and teens can visit the Youth Activism Project to find out how to engage more as an activist. This is exactly the kind of “good trouble” we mean to inspire!

Keep reading and taking action. Art and activism go hand in hand. And if you are over 18, please VOTE!