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feedallama's review against another edition
4.0
I loved the way she bounced from topic to topic in the a single essay to make her points. It showed the way her mind worked while making the arguments- personal and persuasive at the same time.
emleemay's review against another edition
3.0
I call myself black because that is who I am. Blackness is a label that I do not have a choice in rejecting as long as systemic barriers exist in this country. But also, my blackness is an honor, and as long as I continue to live, I will always esteem it as such.
[b:This Will Be My Undoing|32326006|This Will Be My Undoing Living at the Intersection of Black, Female, and Feminist in (White) America|Morgan Jerkins|https://images.gr-assets.com/books/1505142372s/32326006.jpg|52959624] is a fantastic portrait of one woman's experience with black girlhood. Jerkins explores through essays what it was like growing up as a black girl with racial divisions in school, white beauty standards, and race-based harassment. She is quick to acknowledge that her memoir is not a "one-size-fits-all" story, and that there are many different experiences among black women.
As a personal memoir, it shines. Jerkins's raw honesty about her disdain for blackness and other black girls while growing up is tough to read, but necessary. She also speaks frankly about sex, desire, masturbation and her body. In "Human, Not Black" she reunites being a black woman with being human, reminding the reader that the two are not mutually exclusive; by calling herself a black woman, she is not denying the common humanity she shares with others.
However, when Jerkins goes political - as she frequently does - the book is less effective. She resorts to stereotyping and contradictions, which seems to be the opposite of what she was reaching for.
Throughout, Jerkins speaks of the "white woman" as a monolith. This elusive creature is beautiful, slender, straight, wealthy, upper middle class and a Trump voter. "Supported, cared for, and coddled" universally. To Jerkins, it seems that queer, poor and fat white women do not exist.
If this were a work of fiction, I might think this an intentional play on traditional white literature that has frequently portrayed black people as a stereotypical monolith, but it seems Jerkins genuinely has not considered that white girls exist outside of this narrow definition.
Strangest of all was when Jerkins pointed out that 94% of black women voted for Hillary Clinton and 53% of white women voted for Donald Trump, and then proceeded to treat "white woman" as synonymous with "Trump voter", completely ignoring the millions who voted for Clinton.
Additionally, Jerkins still needs to work out some of her own double standards. In one essay, "A Hunger For Men’s Eyes", she defends the black and Latino men in the Shoshana Roberts street harassment video, questioning whether the men calling at her to “have a nice day” or calling her “beautiful” was really harassment. However, Jerkins is not so understanding when such comments are directed at herself. Men complimenting her beauty and asking her if “[she] was having a good time” at a party are sexual aggressors. When one man asks if he can take her on a date, she lies by telling him she has a boyfriend, to which he responds “Well, he better be treating you right.” Jerkins then adds in her own head “In other words, He better be treating you right or else you gon’ be mine.”
I longed for the parts where Jerkins dropped the social commentary on society at large and returned to her own experiences. For non-black readers, she has a lot to offer in terms of insight into black girlhood; for black readers, I hope she extends a hand of understanding and normalizes their experiences with race, beauty and sexuality.
It is often said that the "personal is the political" but here they feel separate - a personal that offers deep, important insight, and a political that, in short, does not.
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frankiepooh's review against another edition
challenging
emotional
informative
reflective
medium-paced
5.0
efm511's review against another edition
4.0
This book veered between very good and somewhat confusing for me. I just didn't understand why some parts were in there. However, I appreciated the candid look into the thoughts, feelings, and experiences of the author.
booksnooksandcooks's review against another edition
2.5
I have...incredibly mixed reactions to this book. On one hand, I appreciate Jerkin's vulnerability and willingness to write. My struggle comes from the lack of intersectionality I witnessed in her book. Sweeping statements about Latine women, Asian women, etc. No comment about queer women despite queer Black women being one of the main leaders of LGBTQIA+ movements. Sure, Jerkins isn't queer and therefore, I wouldn't want to read her trying to conceptualize the queer identity, but her viewpoint appears to be very heteronormative, with the book frequently repeating how the expectation for Black women is to be with a man. There was only one singular reference to cisheteronormativity and that was with the author's frank discussion about her labia.
I also found myself put off by the seeming orientalist take of Japan as if it is an idyllic place to be for everyone. Jerkins acknowledges frequently that she heard many stories from other Black people about mistreatment in Japan, but she states that she never had such an experience. It did, however, make me think about the discussions I've seen by BIPOC individuals discussing their experience in Japan and, furthermore, it made me think of the women I've listened to discussing their experiences.
The main thing that made me hesitate, however, was the limited acknowledgment of privilege. I liked that Jerkins was frank about how she came from a middle-class background and attended an Ivy League, but I think she fell short of truly acknowledging that being an integral part to her identity as a whole. Her first chapter discusses her bullying by female classmates and, in her writing, makes veiled remarks regarding classmates who were in "remedial and college-prep classes, and I was on the honors and advanced placement track". She discusses the role of colorism and how she, with a lighter skin tone compared to her bullies, feels that their meanness came from her ability to be closer to whiteness. I felt that Jerkins could have definitely touched on this more, especially in her later chapters regarding her experience in Harlem. It felt that she gave these discussions a vague once over and moved on, but she should have delved further into her feelings about these.
I was reminded of Adiche's "Danger of a Single Story" while reading this. Jerkins definitely has an individual life and experience to share, and her story matters. She has an entirely different story from Cyntoia Brown, from Viola Davis, from Ijeoma Oluo, Ashley Ford, Emily Bernard. That's good, I WANT to hear diverse stories and people. But I just think that, with this book, Jerkins tries to apply her experiences to ALL Black women. And, as Adiche cautions, that reduces people to stereotypes and generalizations.
I'd be interested to read her works written now.
I also found myself put off by the seeming orientalist take of Japan as if it is an idyllic place to be for everyone. Jerkins acknowledges frequently that she heard many stories from other Black people about mistreatment in Japan, but she states that she never had such an experience. It did, however, make me think about the discussions I've seen by BIPOC individuals discussing their experience in Japan and, furthermore, it made me think of the women I've listened to discussing their experiences.
The main thing that made me hesitate, however, was the limited acknowledgment of privilege. I liked that Jerkins was frank about how she came from a middle-class background and attended an Ivy League, but I think she fell short of truly acknowledging that being an integral part to her identity as a whole. Her first chapter discusses her bullying by female classmates and, in her writing, makes veiled remarks regarding classmates who were in "remedial and college-prep classes, and I was on the honors and advanced placement track". She discusses the role of colorism and how she, with a lighter skin tone compared to her bullies, feels that their meanness came from her ability to be closer to whiteness. I felt that Jerkins could have definitely touched on this more, especially in her later chapters regarding her experience in Harlem. It felt that she gave these discussions a vague once over and moved on, but she should have delved further into her feelings about these.
I was reminded of Adiche's "Danger of a Single Story" while reading this. Jerkins definitely has an individual life and experience to share, and her story matters. She has an entirely different story from Cyntoia Brown, from Viola Davis, from Ijeoma Oluo, Ashley Ford, Emily Bernard. That's good, I WANT to hear diverse stories and people. But I just think that, with this book, Jerkins tries to apply her experiences to ALL Black women. And, as Adiche cautions, that reduces people to stereotypes and generalizations.
I'd be interested to read her works written now.
lolareadsbooks's review against another edition
challenging
emotional
hopeful
informative
inspiring
reflective
medium-paced
4.75
biobabe's review against another edition
3.0
2.5
This is one of those times that I feel very uncomfortable critiquing as a white woman, but this book felt very self-indulgent. I will never understand what it is like to grow up in a black woman's body, but even books written by white women that complained this much about not finding a man in the timeline she expected, or discussing in such depth how intense an orgasm she had watching extremely exploitative porn featuring women (or frankly any gender) of *any* background would be grounds for a low review. One chapter read like three completely unrelated stories.
This is one of those times that I feel very uncomfortable critiquing as a white woman, but this book felt very self-indulgent. I will never understand what it is like to grow up in a black woman's body, but even books written by white women that complained this much about not finding a man in the timeline she expected, or discussing in such depth how intense an orgasm she had watching extremely exploitative porn featuring women (or frankly any gender) of *any* background would be grounds for a low review. One chapter read like three completely unrelated stories.
jasminedaria's review against another edition
Not my speed.
Content Warnings
Moderate: Suicidal thoughts
torigottlieb's review
challenging
emotional
informative
reflective
tense
medium-paced
4.0
Content Warnings
Graphic: Sexual content
Moderate: Racism