Burning Walls, Building Bridges: Book Review

Today’s post is dedicated to the book, “when they call you a terrorist, a black lives matter memoir,” by Patrisse Khan-Cullors and asha bandele.

Like the title says, this is a memoir, written by one of the three women who started the Black Lives Matter movement in 2013. This book was published in January of this year, so it’s very up-to-date, and timely. Purchase here. I chose this book because the title really stood out to me. Imagine being a person fighting for civil rights, human rights, in this country and being branded a terrorist for it. By people who are actually the terrorists. It is just so frustrating and unfair and wrong, and the worst of it is, it doesn’t have to be like this. We all could band together as a people, and stop it. But we don’t, because we're too busy choosing not to see it.

This book is a must-read for everybody, but particularly for white readers. If you are like me, trying to actively learn more about how white privilege and institutional racism works in this country and in ourselves, you absolutely have to read this book. And if you are not simultaneously inspired and outraged by the time you finish reading it, then you need to read it again until you do.

“when they call you a terrorist” is extraordinarily well-written. The memoir focuses on Patrisse's life, and her family growing up in California. Interaction with the police was nearly constant and began at a very young age. Prison was an ever-present element of life. The double standard we place on people of color and then pretend is equality is impossible to ignore. 

You can see everybody described in this book so well, even though their looks aren’t really described. Their auras shine through the pages and they are so alive. Because they are. Sometimes you have to stop for a while when reading this, to remember that this is all real. This is the reality for so many poor black and brown people in this country. And the most frustrating and upsetting part of it is, that it doesn’t have to be this way. We could all help change this, but it’s so easy as white people, not to see it. We really do have to be reminded, every day, that Black lives matter. And maybe, one day, we’ll all start remembering that and acting like it.

I couldn't help thinking about how I would have felt if I had been in Patrisse's shoes. If my life had been like her life. I saw elements of my own family in hers and it was a huge reminder of how much more alike we all are to each other in this giant human family of ours than we are different. So why wasn't my life like hers? Why wasn't her life like mine? And you can't help but feel how stupid and arbitrary white privilege is. It's outrageous and outraging.

This book left me feeling ashamed for not caring about the #BlackLivesMatter movement sooner. For not researching it and promoting it sooner. I care about people and want to help make the world a better place for everybody, but even so, my white privilege shielded me from seeing something that needed attention. Reading this has made me want to do more. It’s not much, but I intend to purchase a copy of this book and will make the effort to buy it from a Black-owned bookstore. If I believe that Black lives matter, then Black-owned businesses matter as well. It’s one small thing I can do.

I was inspired by the passage about protesting in Rodeo Drive. White people need to hear this message the most, and as a white person, I am in a position to use my voice and privilege to talk to other white people about this. I don’t have a unique perspective, I have not lived this life, but I can still share it with other white people. I can also make sure that I support candidates and vote for people who fight for this. People who believe that Black lives matter. My role in this is not to have a unique voice or a place in the actual movement, but to support it from behind and beneath. To just be a body in the crowd.

I am in awe of Patrisse and her journey. I am angry that we allowed what happened to her and her family and community without caring or listening, all the while proclaiming that we loved all people. I am inspired by what she, Alicia Garza, and Opal Tometi have accomplished by starting a movement that is shaping a generation and reshaping the entire country. I hope that one day we will not need organizations like this, because our actions will truly match our words. When we claim to be colorblind people who love everyone equally, one day, maybe we will look up #BlackLivesMatter in history books and read about how it all started there. The questions we must all ask ourselves is: What did we do to help? What did we do to make sure that Black lives mattered? And how much better are we all, as a nation, now that we live like they do?