A review by zahraa_aj
Know My Name by Chanel Miller

challenging dark emotional hopeful informative inspiring reflective sad tense medium-paced

5.0

“I did not come into existence when he harmed me. She found her voice! I had a voice, he stripped it, left me groping around blind for a bit, but I always had it. I just used it like I never had to use it before. I do not owe him my success, becoming, he did not create me. The only credit Brock can take is for assaulting me, and he could never even admit to that.”

I've had my eye on this book for over 8 months now, thinking I'm going to read it when I'm emotionally capable of handling the topic, but alas there's no such time in the near future. I wish I could give this to the man who circled my coworkers & me, following us to our workplace, speeding away only when we tried taking a picture of the plate number. Or to the two boys who were too young to be on a motorbike, but old enough to yell, "wh*res", as a group of us walked back from lunch. I wish I could give it to the men who whisper, call & shout cruelties to me in the street, while I'm expected to walk my path, unchanged, as their words simmered inside me.

When I was younger, I had so much respect for people in the justice system, I thought that everything could be solved if only we had the right laws, the right people enforcing them. In my naive mind, witnessing the corruption consume members of the legal system felt like seeing a mascot taking off their costume, seeing them for the first time, and thinking, "Oh, you're a person." I knew they were a person, but I guess I never realized it.

Looking at the reviews, I was surprised by the number of them mentioning how this book got "too political" at the end when the elections were mentioned in a paragraph, and the challenges victims of police violence were facing in the legal system were brought rightfully, as the frustration and accusations Miller faced in the legal system despite being the victim, mirrored that of theirs.

In the end, I don't think I can really "review" this book so I'm writing this for myself because I view it as a memory, and a yet-to-end story a friend told me as we sat on a bench in a garden.

 

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