112 pages • 3 hours read
Jesmyn WardA modern alternative to SparkNotes and CliffsNotes, SuperSummary offers high-quality Study Guides with detailed chapter summaries and analysis of major themes, characters, and more. For select classroom titles, we also provide Teaching Guides with discussion and quiz questions to prompt student engagement.
Summary
Chapter Summaries & Analyses
“The Tradition” by Jericho Brown
Introduction by Jesmyn Ward
“Homegoing, AD” by Kima Jones
“The Weight” by Rachel Kaadzi Ghansah
“Lonely in America” by Wendy S. Walters
“Where Do We Go from Here?” by Isabel Wilkerson
“‘The Dear Pledges of Our Love’: A Defense of Phillis Wheatley’s Husband” by Honorée Fanonne Jeffers
“White Rage” by Carol Anderson
“Cracking the Code” by Jesmyn Ward
“Queries of Unrest” by Clint Smith
“Blacker Than Thou” by Kevin Young
“Da Art of Storytellin’ (a Prequel)” by Kiese Laymon
“Black and Blue” by Garnette Cadogan
“The Condition of Black Life Is One of Mourning” by Claudia Rankine
“Know Your Rights!” by Emily Raboteau
“Composite Pops” by Mitchell S. Jackson
“Theories of Time and Space” by Natasha Trethewey
“This Far: Notes on Love and Revolution” by Daniel José Older
“Message to My Daughters” by Edwidge Danticat
Key Figures
Themes
Symbols & Motifs
Important Quotes
Essay Topics
Tools
Claudia Rankine’s friend had a son and immediately thought, “I have to get him out of this country” (145). She and Rankine laughed, knowing the implausibility, desperation, and pervasive fear behind this thought. The essay’s title comes from another of Rankine’s friends as she considers having a black son in America. His risk of sudden death exacerbates her mourning, a constant experience no white person can understand, since black Americans can be killed while doing ordinary activities.
In 1963, a bomber killed four black girls at Birmingham, Alabama, church; recently, a white man killed nine people at a Charleston, South Carolina, church. He left three survivors, and although his family is grieving, theirs is not the constant grief of being African American. The terrorist’s actions did not come about spontaneously but developed over a lifetime of hearing racist language and observing similar violence. America’s history is riddled with the deaths of black people, so current events such as the unrest in Ferguson, Missouri should not surprise people.
Emmett Till, whom white men lynched in Mississippi in 1955, was buried in his hometown of Chicago. His mother, Mamie Till Mobley, asked for an open-casket funeral and permitted people to photograph her son’s body, defying the systematic devaluation of black bodies in America. She thought the country shared her grief, an idea that brought deaths like that of her son into the public consciousness and helped inspire the Civil Rights Movement.
The public did not see the photographs of the bodies after the Charleston shooting, rendering them “into an abstraction” (148). After officer Darren Wilson shot Michael Brown in Ferguson, Missouri, his body remained on the street for four hours. This incorporated grief into the story of his death.
Rankine continues, “Black Lives Matter, the movement founded by the activists Alicia Garza, Patrisse Cullors, and Opal Tometi, began with the premise that the incommensurable experience of systemic racism creates an unequal playing field” (149). American society mistrusts and devalues African Americans in many ways that began with this country’s founding and persists today in both public and private.
The phrase “All Lives Matter,” created by a white academic, reframed the Black Lives Matter movement by reintroducing whiteness and neglecting the inordinate violence against black Americans. Racism infuses every aspect of American life, from personal relationships to public policy, and creates constant fear and mourning for African Americans as they live day-to-day. This mourning informs Black Lives Matter, which memorializes slain African Americans and calls for the public to remember them as well.
The institutional, historical devaluation and death of African Americans, which began with slavery, necessitates the constant reminder that Black Lives Matter. Progress requires that the public, particularly white Americans, acknowledge this before the culture improves. Rankine asks how to consider the dead when they also matter to their loved ones.
The police barred Lesley McSpadden, Michael Brown’s mother, from her son’s body the day of his death, and witnesses showed her their recording of his death. McSpadden resisted publicizing his image and railed against those who sold t-shirts bearing his name. Ferguson residents similarly resisted the public attention around Brown’s death.
Tamir Rice’s mother also distanced herself from the public spectacle around her son’s death by police, an event that was filmed and widely seen. The police retained Rice’s body for six months, and the officer who shot the boy was not indicted. Deaths of African Americans by police, for which officers are often not penalized, need to be remembered and grieved in public. Writer Toni Morrison says when the criminal justice system treats white men the same way they treat black men, it will mark the end of an era. Rankine agrees but reminds readers of the invisible changes required of each American to transform the culture.
Any black American can be killed at any time on any day, which is not true for white Americans; they cannot repress this incontrovertible fact. Public remembrance of and grief for black lives might create positive change. Rankine names each of the nine people killed at the Charleston church shooting. Her friend expresses fear for her son as a black male in America. This pervasive tension presides over African American life. White Americans might devalue the Black Lives Matter movement, or they might recognize it as a call to compassion and unity.
Like Rachel Kaadzi Ghansah, Claudia Rankine considers the nature of black death in the United States. Sometimes it is anonymous and slow, as Ghansah writes, but it can also be public and violent. Whether quiet or loud, however, the deaths of African Americans are embedded in the history of the United States, as writers like Wendy S. Walters and Carol Anderson have also discussed. Rankine states it bluntly: “Dead blacks are a part of normal life here” (147). Normalizing the deaths of African Americans inures citizens to the trauma and deep injustice. Rankine reminds readers that this need not—should not—be normal.
In urging the nation to grieve the dead, Rankine focuses on the mothers of those lost to acts of racial violence. Meditating on the personal aspect of these very public events highlights the complexity in making a young murdered man into a political symbol. In 1955 two white men in Mississippi kidnapped, beat, and lynched 14-year-old Emmett Till for allegedly whistling at a white woman. His death proved a tipping point for civil rights activism during that era, and Rankine identifies how the pictures of Till’s body galvanized mourners into action. Till’s mother’s decision to allow those photographs was a political act: “The spectacle of the black body, in her hands, publicized the injustice mapped onto her son’s corpse” (148). Mamie Till Mobley defied America not to dismiss Emmett Till, but rather to see him as a son and a child lost to a brutal murder.
Unlike Mamie Till Mobley, the mothers of Michael Brown and Tamir Rice had less choice in the amount of exposure their sons received, since these events occurred amidst a much different media climate and during a time when bystanders could (and did) film the events on mobile devices. As Rankine explains, Michael Brown’s family preferred to grieve in private, even as the nation continued to discuss their son’s death. Rankine encourages discussion for the sake of change: “The Black Lives Matter movement can be read as an attempt to keep mourning an open dynamic in our culture because black lives exist in a state of precariousness” (150). Rankine affirms this movement, which coalesced amidst a contemporary civil rights crisis. In a short span of time, unarmed African Americans like Michael Brown and Tamir Rice were killed by white police officers, and white supremacist Dylann Storm Roof killed nine black congregants at a Charleston church.
This last incident, however, proves that maintaining a public discourse about racial injustice does not necessarily evoke the grief for which Rankine calls. She acknowledges this when writing of Michael Brown: “[A] person had to decide whether his dead black body mattered enough to be mourned” (149). Someone like Dylann Storm Roof not only devalued but hated black people. His is a particularly American hatred, which Emmett Till’s killers also possessed. This homegrown hatred, like the violence it inspires, should not be normal but remains so, nonetheless.
Rankine writes, “The truth, as I see it, is that if black men and women, black boys and girls, mattered, if we were seen as living, we would not be dying simply because whites don’t like us” (151). The writer ends the piece by encouraging readers to extend empathy and grief on behalf of black life so that, perhaps, “recognition will break a momentum that laws haven’t altered” (155).
By Jesmyn Ward