Breathe

July 1, 2019
A distinguished scholar writes to her sons about the joy, possibility, and grace of black life amid ongoing American struggles with race, gender, and class. Carrying on an iconic legacy of public letters from black writers--think James Baldwin, Ta-Nehisi Coates, and Kiese Laymon, among many others--Perry (African American Studies/Princeton Univ.; Looking for Lorraine: The Radiant and Radical Life of Lorraine Hansberry, 2018, etc.) reflects on her family history, tying it together with cultural allegories to impress upon her sons the precious inheritance found within black social life and the pursuit of a livelihood full of "passion, profound human intimacy and connection, beauty and excellence." A multidisciplinary and acclaimed researcher, Perry uses references throughout the slim volume that range across centuries and the global black diaspora, across folklore, music, and visual arts as well as the influence of numerous faith traditions. "The people with whom you can share the interior illumination," she writes, "that is the sacramental bond." She breaks down the structures of violence and marginalization that black children face while uplifting the imaginative and improvisatory space for them to focus on their becoming, to not be trapped in misnarrated stories or "forced into two dimensions when you are in four." Echoing Baldwin's distinctive "Letter to My Nephew," Perry emphasizes the critical life discipline of making choices--not in the shallow sense of choosing success or achievement but rather within the depths of the long, historic freedom struggle to answer important questions--e.g., "How will you treat your word? How will you hold your heart? How will you hold others?" Deeply intergenerational, the book blurs intended audiences to call all of us to face up to legacies of injustice while insisting on the grace and conviviality necessary to imagine just futures. A masterfully poetic and intimate work that anchors mothering within the long-standing tradition of black resistance and resourcefulness.

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Starred review from September 1, 2019

Sharing her thoughts on motherhood, particularly being the mother of black boys in America, Perry (African American studies, Princeton Univ.; May We Forever Stand) presents her adolescent sons Issa and Freeman with reflections on striving to live a good life. She writes of pleasures, pains, and possibilities; successes and challenges; and the injustices of the culture they must navigate as young black men and, later, adults. She describes her hopes and fears, and the sorrowing strength of black mothers who lose their sons to murder. Perry longs for history not to be forgotten; for a different future, not simply a fantasy. She writes of the parental paradox of wanting to hold children tight while also wishing for them to soar. Her recollections focus on time together with her son, offering lessons they have taught her, and lessons she is trying to teach them. The author reminisces about her own childhood in order to illustrate the importance of family, the bindings of responsibility and wisdom, and the rewards of unceasing love and passion. VERDICT Perry's uplifting and often lyrical meditation on living invites readers to delve into their self and particularly into the complicated categories of mother, parent, African American, and human. Highly recommended. [See "Fall Fireworks," LJ 8/19, p. 25.]--Thomas J. Davis, Arizona State Univ., Tempe

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Starred review from June 1, 2019
Perry, a Princeton professor and author of the award-winning Looking for Lorraine (2018), presents, in the tradition of W. E. B. DuBois, James Baldwin, and Ta-Nehisi Coates, a letter to her two sons, and to all Black boys, encouraging them to stand back up in the face of stumbling. Voiced the way an African American mom might say it when whites are not around, and told against the backdrop of police killings of Black men (notably Eric Garner, whose words I can't breathe ring in the title), Perry's missive may echo a general American regret about the mismatch between Black crime and punishment. Perry shares well-told and funny memories of family trips to Alabama, Chicago, and Cambridge, which signal heritage and privilege, and innumerable gems from Black cultural thinkers on perseverance. This mother's striking and generous admonition to thrive even in the face of white mendacity also is a meditation on parenting. Reflective insights about injustice adjoin a few visceral apologies about every responsible parent's regrets, which might remind parents of the divide between the deed of giving life and the social consequence of the deed. For Black boys and their parents who struggle to get childhood and mothering-along or fathering-along correct: Just always remember: even if you tumble . . . you must move towards freedom. (Reprinted with permission of Booklist, copyright 2019, American Library Association.)