Minorities and Women Only

A lot of white men have written a LOT of books. In fact, if you listened to the preaching of the white man gospel, you would believe that white men invented books, and writing, and paper, and ink, and language, and intelligible thought. Yet, we already know they stole summah dat and more likely than not, all of it.

I digress.

It’s not your time to shine anymore, Charles Dickens. We, in Western civilization, have listened to the loud ass voices of white men for literally millennia. That’s dead. I am ready to hear more Toni Morrison (Grandmother of Black Ass Wisdom and Clapbacks) and less Robert Frost (who is honestly still one of my faves because he was ahead of his time and if I could go back in time and meet him, I would most assuredly nerd tf out but still he old and white and I digress).

So, like I told y’all before, I made this resolution to read a book a week this year. I put out an all call at the watering hole (Facebook) for book recommendations from my friends, family, and people I met once at a party who somehow remembered my name and found me on Facebook. When I did, I asked for recommendations of books authored only by minorities and women; out with the old and in with the new. Now of course, Fox News could probably find a way to make that request “reverse” racist, but as I said before, we have been drowning in a sea of white male voices since this was the Land Before Time (Littlefoot was patent white guy), and it’s about time that we hear from ourselves.  I’m tired of only being able to hear the mutter of the colored or female voice through the buffer of the white male gaze.

A.R. Voss once said “a book is a gateway to the soul of it’s author.” At the ripe age of 28, having grown up in Alabama and Georgia, I am thoroughly familiar with the wonderbread peanut-butter and cream cheese sandwich terrain of the white man’s soul. I am thoroughly familiar with the “classics,” the Whitmans, the Dickens, the Orwells and the Fitzgeralds, as if a penis and minimal melanin is a pre-requisite for “classic” status. Not to say that as the year progresses, I won’t read anything by any pale male, but listen…I’m ready to peer into the souls of those who have been told for centuries that they have none. Not just The Souls of Black Folk, but for [all] Colored [&] girls.

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