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daniel1132 's review for:
Black Like Me
by John Howard Griffin
Black Like Me is a remarkable book, but one that I initially approached with some skepticism. In 2023, we all know that “blackface” is wrong; so what should I think about a book written by a white man who medically darkened his skin in order to pass as Black and write about the experience? Was this going to be some shallow, exploitative display of whiteness? A cheap gimmick? Entertainment? Voyeurism? Any time white people appropriate Blackness (culturally, linguistically, musically, etc.) my antennae go up, so I was on high alert as I started this book.
By the time I reached the “Epilogue” at the end of the book, it seemed clear that this book as not those things. While his experiences on the receiving end of white-supremacy, discrimination, and racist treatment in things large and small, were fascinating and illuminating, it was his reflections after it was all over that won me over.
Griffin writes in the epilogue about what prompted the experiment: “Black men told me that the only way a white man could hope to understand anything about this reality [racism in America] was to wake up some morning in a black man’s skin” (165). In other words, Griffin took his inspiration for this from the suggestions of Black people he was engaging with, not from some “genius” white idea for an interesting book. The reason this was “necessary” (at the time) is the reality of what W. E. B. Du Bois calls “the veil,” a wall of separation between Black and white that produces parallel realities. White people are blindly oblivious of what goes on behind the veil, even while assuming they know exactly what is going on in the world. Meanwhile, Black people have to engage both worlds, passing back and forth through the veil. Griffin describes these “parallel realities” in sharp detail, and this is an invitation to fellow white people to begin to see.
To be clear, Black voices have been saying these things for centuries. It should never take the “validation” of a white man to give credibility to their testimony. The evidence has been available generation after generation if white people would only listen. The fact that Griffin felt this experiment “necessary” is an indictment on the enduring power of the veil for white people as much as anything.
I think what I found most compelling about the book was its reception after it was published (again, described in the epilogue). Black people across the country welcomed Griffin to their communities as a result of his book. They interpreted his work not as exploitative of their world, but deeply appreciated his desire and effort to understand and to tell the reluctant white world the truths that they didn’t want to hear, and that they would not hear from Black people. And Griffin took up this task as a responsibility, not in order to “speak for Black people,” which he acknowledged over and over that he could not do, but to do his part to tell the truth. Black reception of Griffin’s work validates it in my opinion.
The converse is also true — white reception, north and south, ironically validated him as well. In the south, he received death threats wherever he went and was viewed as a “traitor” to his race. Fifteen years later, he was received a “brutal beating” at the hands of the Ku Klux Klan, but survived. White liberals often applauded his work, but perpetuated their own version of racist ignoring of Black leaders in their own communities. Griffin called them out directly for this as well. His insights into racial dynamics were truly illuminated and penetrating. Griffin spent years after the publication of the book laboring for Civil Rights, lending his voice on behalf of Black communities, and speaking hard truths to white power. This book was not a one-off publicity stunt, but was followed up with years of costly effort. This is not to make Griffin into a “white savior”—he explicitly denounces this sort of view of himself. It is to point him out as an example of a kind of faithful anti-racist work undertaken by a white man in the 1960s.
So at the end of the day, I understand why this is a classic, and I recommend it. While I would certainly not recommend anyone repeat this experiment today—for all kinds of reasons!!!—I understand why Griffin did it, and I think the results validate him. If you read anything, read the 30 page epilogue (165–194). Every page there is worth its weight in gold, with thoughtful analysis of overt racism, and systemic racism in politics, education, the arts, criminal justice and more.
By the time I reached the “Epilogue” at the end of the book, it seemed clear that this book as not those things. While his experiences on the receiving end of white-supremacy, discrimination, and racist treatment in things large and small, were fascinating and illuminating, it was his reflections after it was all over that won me over.
Griffin writes in the epilogue about what prompted the experiment: “Black men told me that the only way a white man could hope to understand anything about this reality [racism in America] was to wake up some morning in a black man’s skin” (165). In other words, Griffin took his inspiration for this from the suggestions of Black people he was engaging with, not from some “genius” white idea for an interesting book. The reason this was “necessary” (at the time) is the reality of what W. E. B. Du Bois calls “the veil,” a wall of separation between Black and white that produces parallel realities. White people are blindly oblivious of what goes on behind the veil, even while assuming they know exactly what is going on in the world. Meanwhile, Black people have to engage both worlds, passing back and forth through the veil. Griffin describes these “parallel realities” in sharp detail, and this is an invitation to fellow white people to begin to see.
To be clear, Black voices have been saying these things for centuries. It should never take the “validation” of a white man to give credibility to their testimony. The evidence has been available generation after generation if white people would only listen. The fact that Griffin felt this experiment “necessary” is an indictment on the enduring power of the veil for white people as much as anything.
I think what I found most compelling about the book was its reception after it was published (again, described in the epilogue). Black people across the country welcomed Griffin to their communities as a result of his book. They interpreted his work not as exploitative of their world, but deeply appreciated his desire and effort to understand and to tell the reluctant white world the truths that they didn’t want to hear, and that they would not hear from Black people. And Griffin took up this task as a responsibility, not in order to “speak for Black people,” which he acknowledged over and over that he could not do, but to do his part to tell the truth. Black reception of Griffin’s work validates it in my opinion.
The converse is also true — white reception, north and south, ironically validated him as well. In the south, he received death threats wherever he went and was viewed as a “traitor” to his race. Fifteen years later, he was received a “brutal beating” at the hands of the Ku Klux Klan, but survived. White liberals often applauded his work, but perpetuated their own version of racist ignoring of Black leaders in their own communities. Griffin called them out directly for this as well. His insights into racial dynamics were truly illuminated and penetrating. Griffin spent years after the publication of the book laboring for Civil Rights, lending his voice on behalf of Black communities, and speaking hard truths to white power. This book was not a one-off publicity stunt, but was followed up with years of costly effort. This is not to make Griffin into a “white savior”—he explicitly denounces this sort of view of himself. It is to point him out as an example of a kind of faithful anti-racist work undertaken by a white man in the 1960s.
So at the end of the day, I understand why this is a classic, and I recommend it. While I would certainly not recommend anyone repeat this experiment today—for all kinds of reasons!!!—I understand why Griffin did it, and I think the results validate him. If you read anything, read the 30 page epilogue (165–194). Every page there is worth its weight in gold, with thoughtful analysis of overt racism, and systemic racism in politics, education, the arts, criminal justice and more.