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emotional
reflective
sad
medium-paced
This memoir of a black woman’s experience growing up in nearly all white spaces was intriguing and thought provoking, but was not an incredible book. I admired the author and appreciated her ability share her story and difficult family history. However, the writing style and structure was not really for me. 2.5/5
challenging
emotional
informative
medium-paced
emotional
reflective
medium-paced
Graphic: Racial slurs, Racism
Minor: Child abuse, Sexual assault
challenging
emotional
reflective
medium-paced
Moderate: Adult/minor relationship, Eating disorder, Pedophilia, Racial slurs, Racism, Rape, Sexual assault, Suicidal thoughts, Abortion
challenging
dark
emotional
informative
reflective
sad
tense
medium-paced
Graphic: Alcoholism, Child abuse, Emotional abuse, Fatphobia, Racism, Rape
Moderate: Abortion
emotional
hopeful
inspiring
reflective
sad
fast-paced
emotional
medium-paced
Moderate: Child abuse, Rape
dark
emotional
reflective
slow-paced
"The experience had changed us. It had changed <i>me</i>, and I felt my body shiver as a small cell of trauma began to metastasize.” (55)
This is a bitter pill for me because I previously adored Carroll's writing. I've heard good things about her podcast and always intended to listen (still do) but I especially love her Tweets and culture criticism. So I'm confounded by how underwhelmed I was by this book. The writing style was ok, something felt off that I've never noticed in her writing before. It was either too purple or too conversational (there are so many superfluous details about scents, appearance, etc) and the back and forth gave me whiplash. Some of the most minute things would be heavily described and it made the book lag. For example, there are a lot of names to remember, especially of white boys. I kept mixing up Nate, Ryan and Roy who ultimately didn't seem all that consequential to her story aside from propelling her forward. I wanted it to be tighter, more straightforward. At times it's very clear Carroll is holding back, which is understandable for a memoir about such a traumatic childhood but it does a disservice to both the reader and the writer when it's readily apparent that they're shying away from certain things. Closure is lacking which is of course a part of life but I wanted to know so much more about her adult life and experiences with Black people. How did she start the BSU? Why did she drift apart from the Black friends she made on her DC field trip? What was it like meeting Toni Morrison?? Why did her relationship with her dad receive much less focus? It read as though many of her Black experiences were less interesting, or perhaps made less of an impact, than her experiences with (mostly) horrible white people when it came time to write her memoir. But I also reflected on her interactions with the one or two Black adults shem et growing up who didn't do much to help her either. I would hope not to do the same but it made me wonder what we're not seeing when we (Black people) interact in predominantly white spaces. I'm thinking specifically of her ballet teacher who absolutely must have noticed her white mother didn't know how to do her hair (and this stands out to me both because I danced ballet and because my father was comfortable asking our Black teachers to help with our hair in preschool so it's not out of the realm of possibility). Her eating disorder was also casually mentioned and then pushed to the side as she undergoes a string of traumatic experiences, resulting in the reader having no idea how she recovered from it. Again it's not something we're owed but I felt odd not knowing if she was ok and how she got the support she needed.
There's still plenty that I did admire about this memoir. Carroll survives a traumatic childhood with experiences ranging from being the only Black person in a small white N.H. town to developing a relationship with her manipulative birth mother, Tess. Some of Carroll's most powerful and sharp writing surrounds her relationship with her mother. "Tess erased my blackness and then lynched my spirit in an ongoing public spectacle of psychological and emotional violence that started at the Uptown disco club, through to the dean's office at UNH and Elaine's restaurant in New York. I didn't need to kill myself; after reading the book, I felt like I was already dead." (302), WHEW. That passage absolutely blew me away and made my heart ache. Tess is racist and prone to sexualize her daughter and her sons (who she did not give up for adoption). I don't necessarily think eleven is too young for an adoptee to meet their birth parent but given the lack of guidance and supervision from Carroll's adopted parents it was clearly a mistake. She was set up to believe Tess' abuse. There's a lot of pain in this memoir, so many adults failed her time and again. It's heartbreaking and that's why I struggled with this review because the tough subject matter didn't impact me as much as I expected. But I was absolutely cheering her on once she got to college and finally had a Black professor and started reading Black authors. I felt this huge sense of relief when that happened so I was SOMEWHAT emotionally invested and impacted by this story. I don't think Carroll's self esteem and identity issues will be a surprise to any Black person cognizant of their Blackness but I do sincerely hope this book is helpful to white parents considering transracial adoption. I think liberals are starting to understand that being "color blind" is not a good thing and that's the audience that I think would be affected most by this book along with other Black interracial adoptees.
SURVIVING THE WHITE GAZE is a somewhat vulnerable, very compelling memoir about how a Black woman finds her voice and her Blackness after growing up surrounded by white people completely oblivious to racism and white supremacy. I wanted it to be blistering and occasionally it is, but more often than not it was tepid. You can feel Carroll parsing her language and trying to be mindful of her adopted family's feelings which I understand but left me disappointed. I do appreciate her candor regardless and I think this memoir will do wonders if it reaches the right audience. It does read like an inspiring coming of age story because she undergoes so much and I think the series will do well. I'm not entirely sure I want to watch it because I do feel like there's a lot of media catered to light skinned/biracial Black people (so of course the tv rights got snatched up) at the moment but we'll see.
This is a bitter pill for me because I previously adored Carroll's writing. I've heard good things about her podcast and always intended to listen (still do) but I especially love her Tweets and culture criticism. So I'm confounded by how underwhelmed I was by this book. The writing style was ok, something felt off that I've never noticed in her writing before. It was either too purple or too conversational (there are so many superfluous details about scents, appearance, etc) and the back and forth gave me whiplash. Some of the most minute things would be heavily described and it made the book lag. For example, there are a lot of names to remember, especially of white boys. I kept mixing up Nate, Ryan and Roy who ultimately didn't seem all that consequential to her story aside from propelling her forward. I wanted it to be tighter, more straightforward. At times it's very clear Carroll is holding back, which is understandable for a memoir about such a traumatic childhood but it does a disservice to both the reader and the writer when it's readily apparent that they're shying away from certain things. Closure is lacking which is of course a part of life but I wanted to know so much more about her adult life and experiences with Black people. How did she start the BSU? Why did she drift apart from the Black friends she made on her DC field trip? What was it like meeting Toni Morrison?? Why did her relationship with her dad receive much less focus? It read as though many of her Black experiences were less interesting, or perhaps made less of an impact, than her experiences with (mostly) horrible white people when it came time to write her memoir. But I also reflected on her interactions with the one or two Black adults shem et growing up who didn't do much to help her either. I would hope not to do the same but it made me wonder what we're not seeing when we (Black people) interact in predominantly white spaces. I'm thinking specifically of her ballet teacher who absolutely must have noticed her white mother didn't know how to do her hair (and this stands out to me both because I danced ballet and because my father was comfortable asking our Black teachers to help with our hair in preschool so it's not out of the realm of possibility). Her eating disorder was also casually mentioned and then pushed to the side as she undergoes a string of traumatic experiences, resulting in the reader having no idea how she recovered from it. Again it's not something we're owed but I felt odd not knowing if she was ok and how she got the support she needed.
There's still plenty that I did admire about this memoir. Carroll survives a traumatic childhood with experiences ranging from being the only Black person in a small white N.H. town to developing a relationship with her manipulative birth mother, Tess. Some of Carroll's most powerful and sharp writing surrounds her relationship with her mother. "Tess erased my blackness and then lynched my spirit in an ongoing public spectacle of psychological and emotional violence that started at the Uptown disco club, through to the dean's office at UNH and Elaine's restaurant in New York. I didn't need to kill myself; after reading the book, I felt like I was already dead." (302), WHEW. That passage absolutely blew me away and made my heart ache. Tess is racist and prone to sexualize her daughter and her sons (who she did not give up for adoption). I don't necessarily think eleven is too young for an adoptee to meet their birth parent but given the lack of guidance and supervision from Carroll's adopted parents it was clearly a mistake. She was set up to believe Tess' abuse. There's a lot of pain in this memoir, so many adults failed her time and again. It's heartbreaking and that's why I struggled with this review because the tough subject matter didn't impact me as much as I expected. But I was absolutely cheering her on once she got to college and finally had a Black professor and started reading Black authors. I felt this huge sense of relief when that happened so I was SOMEWHAT emotionally invested and impacted by this story. I don't think Carroll's self esteem and identity issues will be a surprise to any Black person cognizant of their Blackness but I do sincerely hope this book is helpful to white parents considering transracial adoption. I think liberals are starting to understand that being "color blind" is not a good thing and that's the audience that I think would be affected most by this book along with other Black interracial adoptees.
SURVIVING THE WHITE GAZE is a somewhat vulnerable, very compelling memoir about how a Black woman finds her voice and her Blackness after growing up surrounded by white people completely oblivious to racism and white supremacy. I wanted it to be blistering and occasionally it is, but more often than not it was tepid. You can feel Carroll parsing her language and trying to be mindful of her adopted family's feelings which I understand but left me disappointed. I do appreciate her candor regardless and I think this memoir will do wonders if it reaches the right audience. It does read like an inspiring coming of age story because she undergoes so much and I think the series will do well. I'm not entirely sure I want to watch it because I do feel like there's a lot of media catered to light skinned/biracial Black people (so of course the tv rights got snatched up) at the moment but we'll see.
challenging
hopeful
reflective
medium-paced
I was very intrigued by this book when I saw it available as an eARC, so I requested it and it was accepted. I'm interested in learning more about the Black experience as I think this is important in doing my part moving forward as a white woman.
Carroll's memoir is a look into becoming comfortable with oneself and their Blackness. Carroll grows up in a small town where she is the only Black person, where no one has yet come to terms or acknowledged whiteness and white supremacy. Carroll had some interesting commentary on this.
For the first part of this book, it almost didn't feel like a memoir. It read to me more as fiction, which I thought was interesting. And then it had a change of gears and at that point, I was not as engaged. It is obvious Carroll grew up with much trauma, abuse and neglect in her childhood. It felt like details of this were glazed over, which I get might be hard to open up about, but it's also a disservice to Carroll and her readers. I feel I would have enjoyed it more had more of this been shared. Even there thought process as she faced certain events and situations. Ultimately it is up to Carroll to share that, but I do feel that parts were missing or glazed over when just a sentence or two could have helped.
Looking at it from the point of a coming-of-age story, it did have something to it, that I believe anyone, no mater their race, can find pieces to relate to. I do think that for the right people reading this memoir, it will be very helpful and enlightening. I did gain some insight, just not as much richness as I hoped going into it.
Thank you to the publisher through NetGalley for providing me with an eARC in exchange of an honest review.
Carroll's memoir is a look into becoming comfortable with oneself and their Blackness. Carroll grows up in a small town where she is the only Black person, where no one has yet come to terms or acknowledged whiteness and white supremacy. Carroll had some interesting commentary on this.
For the first part of this book, it almost didn't feel like a memoir. It read to me more as fiction, which I thought was interesting. And then it had a change of gears and at that point, I was not as engaged. It is obvious Carroll grew up with much trauma, abuse and neglect in her childhood. It felt like details of this were glazed over, which I get might be hard to open up about, but it's also a disservice to Carroll and her readers. I feel I would have enjoyed it more had more of this been shared. Even there thought process as she faced certain events and situations. Ultimately it is up to Carroll to share that, but I do feel that parts were missing or glazed over when just a sentence or two could have helped.
Looking at it from the point of a coming-of-age story, it did have something to it, that I believe anyone, no mater their race, can find pieces to relate to. I do think that for the right people reading this memoir, it will be very helpful and enlightening. I did gain some insight, just not as much richness as I hoped going into it.
Thank you to the publisher through NetGalley for providing me with an eARC in exchange of an honest review.
Moderate: Child abuse, Domestic abuse, Emotional abuse, Racial slurs, Racism
Minor: Addiction, Rape, Sexual assault