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krystlem's review against another edition
challenging
dark
emotional
hopeful
informative
mysterious
reflective
sad
tense
fast-paced
4.0
bartlebebop's review against another edition
5.0
I was going to attempt to oppose to Julia Scheeres' portrayal of Christians in this book. It was really full of disdain and contempt which bothered me at first, but you know what? I felt no need when I remembered all the hideous things the church has done in the name of their religion. There's no excuse for the abusive behavior described in this book that is encouraged and justified by Christianity. No matter whether the anecdotes depicted a very stereotypical betrayal of rural Indiana Christians in the 1980s, there is always a bit of truth to every stereotype. I personally believe this account is very faithful to the reality because unfortunately not much has changed. Similiar abuse depicted in this book still occurs. Parents use religion to indoctrinate, manipulate, and abuse their children. So many Christians use their faith to disguise racism, homophobia, and transphobia as being sanctioned by God. I refuse to defend a group that is indefensible. This book was hard to stomach, but it's important to look those facts in the face. It seems this author has found peace outside of religious dogma and I am looking forward to the day I will also.
junebug2068's review against another edition
5.0
Tragic. So sad. So HARD to believe parents/people can be like this. Disgusting. Disgusting that this is MY generation in which it happened.
curlymango's review against another edition
3.75
So many times while reading I could physically feel my heart sink. You have to take all the dialogue and fine details with a grain of salt, but Julia’s memories of her feelings in each moment are as clear as day. She writes so well that it’s often difficult to read because it’s so visceral. She manages to infuse joy and humor into her story, channeling her brother’s undying optimism and the bond they had with each other. There’s a revelation at the end that left me thinking about where Julia’s story meets David’s story and how we tell the stories of loved ones who are no longer with us (to me it’s still hard to see as anything other than Julia’s story). A thought provoking and challenging read.
daniellefenton's review against another edition
challenging
dark
emotional
funny
reflective
sad
medium-paced
4.5
kevin_shepherd's review against another edition
4.0
“Raising those black boys as if they were family. Talk about Christian sacrifice.”
Julia Scheeres’ memoir is a chronicle of a childhood spent in a Christian-fundamentalist nightmare. And it’s not just HER nightmare; when Julia was very young her parents decided that adopting black children would be the ultimate test of their religious convictions and zeal. Thus came David—and later, when it was decided that David needed a “black playmate,” came Jerome.
Discipline (read: indoctrination) in the Scheeres household was swift and strict, but doubly so for the adopted (read: black) children.
“I don’t get whipped like they do when I talk back or get caught in a lie. I get grounded. I’m spared the rod, and it’s a dirty privilege that makes me feel guilty. I hate sharing genes with the man who hurts them, our father. Our father, who heals the sick and dying by day, and causes injury at night.”
This uneven (read: racist) application of Proverbs 13:24 (spare the rod, spoil the child) served to segregate David and Jerome from the rest of the family. But, in spite of all the obvious inequalities, David and Julia remained close and protective of one another.
As the children grew older they started to chafe under the constraints imposed upon them by their religiously zealous parents. Jerome ran away. Julia and her brother David were ultimately sent to a Christian reform school in the Dominican Republic; a dubious and horrific little hellhole called “Escuela Caribe.”
“I still can’t believe that a place like Escuela Caribe exists, and that I find myself enrolled in it. All I did was try to wring some happiness from life, a little fun and a little affection, and as a result I was banished to an island colony ruled by sadistic Jesus freaks.”
Once securely incarcerated at EC, the theological indoctrination was stepped up.
“I swallow dryly. “The Rapture’s due any day now,” he shouts… “The signs of the End Times are here, just like the Book of Revelation prophesized. We’ve got nuclear bombs and legalized abortion and gay homos on prime-time TV. Evil surrounds us.” I don’t recall the Bible mentioning any of those things, but perhaps I wasn’t reading it hard enough.”
And…
“The Pastor leans forward until his face is a few inches from mine, blocking out the rest of the room. His breath smells of boiled cabbage… “I took that little whore, and I stripped her naked and I beat her black and blue,” The Pastor says, his voice a hoarse whisper. “Beat the Devil right out of her. And believe you me, I would not hesitate to do it again.””
Wouldn’t it be great if evangelical philosophy could stand on its own merits? If the brain-washing of children wasn’t essential to its continued existence? Imagine a world where parents encouraged and promoted critical thinking; a world where a mother could simply say, “Your father and I believe the Prophet Muhammad took a trip to heaven on a winged horse” or “Your father and I pray to Ganesha who has four arms and the head of an elephant” or “Your father and I believe a rib-woman ate fruit from a magic tree” and the kids could have all the time they needed to think this through…
…but instead we have places like Escuela Caribe and the Magdalene Asylums and the infamous Canadian “residential schools”—each an example of church sanctioned child abuse.
Excluding the epilogue, Jesus Land isn’t an indictment of faith. It is simply an accounting. It is an honest, often self-deprecating, autobiography—courageously written and, for me, uncomfortably close to home.
“…I can no longer have blind faith in creeds because I am no longer blind.” ~Julia Scheeres, 2005
"The fact is that far more crime and child abuse has been committed by zealots in the name of God, Jesus and Mohammed than has ever been committed in the name of Satan. Many people don’t like that statement, but few can argue with it.” ~Carl Sagan, 1995
Julia Scheeres’ memoir is a chronicle of a childhood spent in a Christian-fundamentalist nightmare. And it’s not just HER nightmare; when Julia was very young her parents decided that adopting black children would be the ultimate test of their religious convictions and zeal. Thus came David—and later, when it was decided that David needed a “black playmate,” came Jerome.
Discipline (read: indoctrination) in the Scheeres household was swift and strict, but doubly so for the adopted (read: black) children.
“I don’t get whipped like they do when I talk back or get caught in a lie. I get grounded. I’m spared the rod, and it’s a dirty privilege that makes me feel guilty. I hate sharing genes with the man who hurts them, our father. Our father, who heals the sick and dying by day, and causes injury at night.”
This uneven (read: racist) application of Proverbs 13:24 (spare the rod, spoil the child) served to segregate David and Jerome from the rest of the family. But, in spite of all the obvious inequalities, David and Julia remained close and protective of one another.
As the children grew older they started to chafe under the constraints imposed upon them by their religiously zealous parents. Jerome ran away. Julia and her brother David were ultimately sent to a Christian reform school in the Dominican Republic; a dubious and horrific little hellhole called “Escuela Caribe.”
“I still can’t believe that a place like Escuela Caribe exists, and that I find myself enrolled in it. All I did was try to wring some happiness from life, a little fun and a little affection, and as a result I was banished to an island colony ruled by sadistic Jesus freaks.”
Once securely incarcerated at EC, the theological indoctrination was stepped up.
“I swallow dryly. “The Rapture’s due any day now,” he shouts… “The signs of the End Times are here, just like the Book of Revelation prophesized. We’ve got nuclear bombs and legalized abortion and gay homos on prime-time TV. Evil surrounds us.” I don’t recall the Bible mentioning any of those things, but perhaps I wasn’t reading it hard enough.”
And…
“The Pastor leans forward until his face is a few inches from mine, blocking out the rest of the room. His breath smells of boiled cabbage… “I took that little whore, and I stripped her naked and I beat her black and blue,” The Pastor says, his voice a hoarse whisper. “Beat the Devil right out of her. And believe you me, I would not hesitate to do it again.””
Wouldn’t it be great if evangelical philosophy could stand on its own merits? If the brain-washing of children wasn’t essential to its continued existence? Imagine a world where parents encouraged and promoted critical thinking; a world where a mother could simply say, “Your father and I believe the Prophet Muhammad took a trip to heaven on a winged horse” or “Your father and I pray to Ganesha who has four arms and the head of an elephant” or “Your father and I believe a rib-woman ate fruit from a magic tree” and the kids could have all the time they needed to think this through…
…but instead we have places like Escuela Caribe and the Magdalene Asylums and the infamous Canadian “residential schools”—each an example of church sanctioned child abuse.
Excluding the epilogue, Jesus Land isn’t an indictment of faith. It is simply an accounting. It is an honest, often self-deprecating, autobiography—courageously written and, for me, uncomfortably close to home.
“…I can no longer have blind faith in creeds because I am no longer blind.” ~Julia Scheeres, 2005
"The fact is that far more crime and child abuse has been committed by zealots in the name of God, Jesus and Mohammed than has ever been committed in the name of Satan. Many people don’t like that statement, but few can argue with it.” ~Carl Sagan, 1995
amyv's review against another edition
3.0
2.5 to 3 stars. My overwhelming feeling upon reading this book was how tragic and unfair it is that David didn't live to tell his own version of this story, especially after learning from the afterward that he'd been writing about it before he died. It was an interesting read, and I believe Scheeres probably did the best she could at using a memoir of her own experiences to honor her brother. But despite her repeated statements about how close she and David were, I didn't actually feel that from the descriptions, and in fact I never felt like I got to know David well as a character. He seemed to be more of a symbol for her (in this narrative) than a human. I felt Scheeres' exploration of race and racism was (perhaps inevitably) myopic and superficial, focused mainly on how she felt unfairly targeted as a white sibling to an adopted Black brother. I was also dismayed by the multiple uses of homophobic and ableist slurs, and her glib dismissal of the possible impact of that language in the author's note.
prairierosereads's review against another edition
4.0
This memoir chronicles the lives of both Julia and her adopted black brother, David, living in the conservative Midwest. The subject matter ranges from heartfelt moments of friendship and sibling bonding to triggering sequences and heartbreaking realizations. I would definitely search trigger warnings for this book if it's a concern for you.
I finished the book in less than 24 hours. Although I couldn't stop reading, I also couldn't quite give it the 4 star rating. It isn't my favorite book, but it's an incredible book in so many ways. Firstly, she vividly describes her childhood experiences. My favorite parts of the book were her gushing about David, about their relationship as brother and sister. I thought these moments were incredible. However, the second half of the book dragged slightly for me. I understand her experience is not to be taken lightly; she endured something that no person she ever have to endure. However, I feel like some sequences could have been shortened. That was the biggest problem I had with the book; she was probably trying to emphasize the horrible experience at the reform school, but the technique didn't quite work with me.
I definitely recommend this book. It's important to explore different stories from a variety of identities and backgrounds. She told their story in a way that resonated with me even after finishing the text.
I finished the book in less than 24 hours. Although I couldn't stop reading, I also couldn't quite give it the 4 star rating. It isn't my favorite book, but it's an incredible book in so many ways. Firstly, she vividly describes her childhood experiences. My favorite parts of the book were her gushing about David, about their relationship as brother and sister. I thought these moments were incredible. However, the second half of the book dragged slightly for me. I understand her experience is not to be taken lightly; she endured something that no person she ever have to endure. However, I feel like some sequences could have been shortened. That was the biggest problem I had with the book; she was probably trying to emphasize the horrible experience at the reform school, but the technique didn't quite work with me.
I definitely recommend this book. It's important to explore different stories from a variety of identities and backgrounds. She told their story in a way that resonated with me even after finishing the text.
ndrewfan's review against another edition
challenging
dark
emotional
reflective
sad
medium-paced
3.75
gina_readsbooks's review against another edition
challenging
dark
emotional
informative
sad
tense
fast-paced
5.0
“For a few moments, there’s nothing but us and our laughter, the soaring joy of our laughter, our laughter crashing through us like tidal waves and raining down our cheeks as tears.”
This is by far the heaviest book I’ve read in a long time. It deals with grief, racism, child abuse, sexual assault, and religious trauma. I consume a lot of true crime and documentaries along these lines, but it doesn’t make them any less difficult.
Julia tells the story of her childhood in Indiana, where her parents are Calvinists and run a very religious household. They adopt two young Black boys and the younger one, David, is the same age as Julia. They become close, and as they get older, she sees him experience direct racism and she struggles with this. She also recounts how punishment in the house differentiated between her and David.
In their teen years, they both get sent to Escuela Caribe in the Dominican Republic. It was touted as a religious school that reformed “problem children.” In reality, it was highly abusive and the stories Julia tells from it are harrowing. She and David dream of freedom, and it so heart-wrenching.
It’s a tough read, but I think it’s important for these stories to be out in the world.