In a collection of interviews, fifteen African American girls between the ages of eleven and eighteen share their thoughts on their lives, self-esteem, personal identity, values, race, and their dreams for the future
Rebecca Carroll is host of the podcast Come Through with Rebecca Carroll, and a cultural critic at WNYC where she also develops and produces a broad array of multi-platform content, and hosts live event series in The Greene Space. Rebecca is a former critic at large for the Los Angeles Times, and her personal essays, cultural commentary, profiles and opinion pieces have appeared in The Atlantic, The New York Times, The Guardian, Essence, New York magazine, Ebony, and Esquire, among other publications. She is the author of several interview-based books about race and blackness in America, including the award-winning Sugar in the Raw: Voices of Young Black Girls in America. She lives in Brooklyn with her husband and son.
The voices of 15 young women growing up around the same time I did (in the 90s). I'm feeling the feels.
Lanika Seventeen, Birmingham, Alabama "The single most distinctive thing to me about being black and female is knowing that I am part of a culture that has come very far, a culture that has struggled to maintain its integrity, spirit, charisma, and intelligence. With that knowledge, I carry with me the certainty that I can be and do whoever and whatever I want."
Jo-Laine Fourteen, Brooklyn, New York "I feel so proud, and even though I know that no matter what I do or say, there will always be somebody who's going to try and put me down or make me feel like less of a person than they are, all I have to do is think about how far we've come. It was worse for my parents and my parents' parents, but if they could do it, then I know I can go out in the world, hold my head up high, and make even more changes for my own children one day."
Latisha Fourteen, Portland, Oregon "Sometimes, you know, I wonder what it would be like to be somebody else, somebody with lighter skin, longer, straighter hair, and pretty blue eyes. There don't seem to be no real famous dark, dark-skinned women with nappy hair out there. I know I'm pretty and all, but I also know I'd be prettier with lighter skin. That's what everybody says anyway."
Nicole Seventeen, Burlington, Vermont "We all have the ability and the resources to be individuals, but when I walk down the street I am clearly identified as a black person and am discriminated against accordingly. I don't blame my parents and I don't blame people for their ignorance. Nobody has done anything wrong here, but it's like having to work at a job I didn't apply for. I alone have to come up with the added strength to deal with racism, and that isn't something I bargained for when I came into this world."
Alicia Thirteen, Springfield, Massachusetts "I understand why my parents might be strict because I see what some other girls do, you know, getting pregnant or whatever. I know that I would never put myself in that situation, so it's like double security knowing that my parents are trying to not let me get into that situation. I base my future on going to school, getting through it, getting through college, and after I reach those goals, then I'll worry about having kids. It's not like most black girls can't figure this out on their own and it don't really set me apart from them that I already did, but I don't know why they don't, and I don't know why everyone always be looking at black girls getting pregnant and going on welfare, because it's not just black girls. Everybody makes bad choices and everybody falls into bad situations."
Reni Fourteen, Birmingham, Alabama "For me, being African means honoring my parents and having a deep respect for my native culture I don't think I would consider myself exclusively African, but I also wouldn't consider myself African-American. There are certain things that African-Americans have experienced and continue to believe in that I do not. I do not share with them the history of slavery. I think about it, but it's not my history. There are certain things that I think are expected of you if you are to be considered 'truly' African-American: listening to rap music, being able to dance and perform and keep up with all the latest hip-hop moves, being angry and resentful at white people."
Savannah Fourteen, Philadelphia, Pennsylvania "I was raised to understand that I am black and female, and that those who are white and male are not to be trusted because white men are dangerous."
Aisha Thirteen, Seattle, Washington "I love the concentration, the sounds, and the mood of the violin. Most people don't know that you can play a lot of different kinds of music on the violin. You can even play hip-hop. I think what I like about the mood of the violin is that it is sort of melancholy, which lets me think about the things that are on my mind or deeply inside of me. It also lets me feel like I am part of the instrument."
Jaminica Fourteen, San Francisco, California "There is the one side, which represents people like my ballet teacher who was loath to remember my name and felt that if she kept ignoring me I would disappear--which I did. And then there's the other side, which represents those people who sort of ogle and wonder with these looks on their faces that say, 'Ooooh, how strange and exciting!' I've known some white girls who get a kind of thrill from rap music and from watching rappers on MTV but who are also afraid of black men."
Alaza Seventeen, Portland, Oregon "Being in love is the bomb. We argue and stuff, but we always work it out within like three minutes because we can't stand to be angry with each other. We talk about having a family and she's decided that not only is it going to be me who gets pregnant, but the father definitely has to be a brother."
Myesha Twelve, Cambridge, Massachusetts "I think most of who I am is about my race. Being black means that I am proud and that I read and study a lot about my history because I don't hardly learn anything in school about black history, I have to teach myself or have my parents teach me. That means I have to know what to ask them, though, and it means taking the responsibility of learning about the kinds of effect history has had on the present."
Sophie Twenty, Freehold, New Jersey "For the rest of my childhood and into my teens, I grew up around upper-middle-class white people. I don't just mean any old white people, I mean yacht club white. And that was a very confusing experience. When my two older brothers and my older sister and I started going to the yacht club to hang out--I was probably eleven around then--I went thinking that I was just like them. I knew nothing about black history, had never even heard of Martin Luther King, and denied my image in the mirror. In fact, if I could help it, I didn't look in the mirror at all because I was afraid of what I saw."
Nadine Fifteen, Roxbury, Massachusetts "I mean, being from Haiti and having a sense of its history as the first independent black nation in the Western hemispher, I knew that I was black. It was not an issue in Haiti, where everyone was black and there was integrity in that fact. When we moved here, I very quickly realized that in America, being black was another story. It hit me hard, too. Because here, it is an issue that far exceeds just being in the minority; there are serious power differentials and excruciatingly painful historical facts to reconcile."
Kristen Eighteen, Washington, DC "My grandmother on my mother's side was dark and I remember asking my mom, 'How can a white baby come out of a brown mommy?' Of course everyone laughed at me, but it was something that I was honestly wrestling with. My mom kept telling me that she was black, but I didn't believe her for the longest time, not until later on when I understood the way society deals with race and culture. Then I just took her word for it."
Tiffany Eleven, Birmingham, Alabama "I claim the right to be Tiffany and Tiffany is many things. I claim the right to play basketball, study science, do karate, listen to rap music, love my parents, be as loud as I please, and have an attitude that separates me from everyone else. My attitude can be all that or real chill, but whatever it is, it's mine. And if anyone has a problem with that, they can speak to me directly."
Lemme put it this way: I consider it near-sacrilege to take pens or highlighters to book pages...and yet, within minutes of reading, this little novel was saturated in yellow. I couldn't stop scribbling down the quotes and insights I absolutely loved about it, and the girls' voices spoke to me on every level I could think of. The construction of young femininity, sexuality, and the feeling of being the racial "other" and bombarded with stereotypes that attempt to define you before you know your sense of self...it's hearbreakingly relevant, and extremely powerful.
I love Sugar in the Raw, and I know that anyone fortunate enough to come across it will, as well.
This book caught my eye because many of the girls featured live in MA (where I currently reside) and because there seemed to be a very diverse collection of voices and experiences among them. What I didn't like about this book was not knowing how much each essay was edited by the woman who compiled the stories. I didn't appreciate the editor's voice at ALL; found her forward to the book confusing and trite. However, even if the girls' stories were altered by the author of the book, I found value in reading them and would recommend this little "diamond in the rough" of a book.
Thought provoking and inspirational read about race, attitude, and survival. A few of the voices were mature far beyond their years, showing a great resilence against all odds that is quite admirable. A great short read!
This book is made up of fifteen in-depth interviews in which the participants describe what it means to them to be a Black girl in America and what they want other Black girls to know. The epilogue had the origin story of why the author undertook the project and I would love an extra epilogue - an update on how these girls are doing as women, 24 years later. Several of the girls mentioned being able to see representations of beauty and blackness only in the pages of Essence and Ebony magazines and I wonder if the wider reach of the Internet is a help or hurt to girls like them today. One girl mentioned that she really wanted to see a Black president; that would be a sign of ultimate success to her. But far more often, the structural and personal racism these girls experience and describe is still painfully present- unfair treatment by police, unfair assumptions about their families and their interests, unfair treatment by teachers, the crushing weight of living in a country where violence against people who look like them has been celebrated and frequent, often perpetrated by white people in power.
There is so much resilience and hope in their answers, so much pride and joy and brave self-reflection and goal-setting. Even though (or perhaps because) they see the challenges clearly, they are steadfast and enthusiastic.
Some of the passages I found most memorable:
"The single most distinctive thing to me about being black and female is knowing that I am part of a culture that has come very far, a culture that has struggled to maintain its integrity, spirit, charisma, and intelligence. With that knowledge, I carry with me the certainty that I can be and do whoever and whatever I want."
Lanika, 17 Birmingham, AL
"I will never have the luxury of knowing what it’s like to not be branded in society. I read somewhere once that young white girls lose their self-esteem around this age and that black girls don’t, which is kind of weird, since black girls have so much more to deal with. Maybe it’s because we have so much to deal with that we don’t want to risk giving up our self-esteem because then we’d really be in trouble."
Jaminica 14 San Francisco, CA
"But then when I turned maybe fourteen, I just knew that I had to feel good about myself, that I couldn’t feel bad about myself and survive....'Yeah, girl. It’s good to be black.'”
Alaza, 17 Portland, Oregon
"I think there are a whole lot of ways to be black and to be Myesha is one of them."
"Sugar in the Raw is a nonfiction profile of young black girls in America between the ages of eleven and twenty years old. I traveled to approximately twelve different cities nationwide—a few of them twice—and interviewed over fifty girls. I made a sincere effort to include as wide a variety as possible in terms of class representation and regional location." – page 10
"The reason I have chosen a genre of writing that is not exclusively my own voice is because I love words and do not presume to harbor the best ones in my mind and life alone." – page 11
"If you only spend time with people who are like you, how can you ever learn anything?" – page 17
"What matters is what’s inside, or rather, how you feel about yourself inside. Because you can have a lot of good inside you, but if you don’t feel good about it, then it is lost." – page 30
"I’m not sayin’ it’s all about skin colour either. It’s just that being black is about our ability to express ourselves and the way we express ourselves and then our history in America." – page 44
"I don’t know why everyone always be looking at black girls getting pregnant and going on welfare, because it’s not just black girls. Everybody makes bad choices and everybody falls into bad situations." – page 46
"Of course at this age everyone is talking about how important it is to be pretty and thin, but I’ve always thought, How can you not like someone because they don’t look good? I find that once I start to like someone, they automatically become beautiful to me. It is completely dependent on the person. There are a lot of conventionally beautiful people out there who have extremely repellent behaviour." – page 52
"My mother stopped doing cocaine a couple of years ago, although she still gets high. She’s been off alcohol for thirty-seven days. I used to worry about her, but I don’t anymore because I can’t. It’ll kill me if I worry as much as it takes." – page 57
"I feel lucky that if all I had was myself, that would be enough." – page 67
"I think that’s what love is all about; when you realise that someone cares about you and you are worthy of their love, then you start to take care of yourself a little better." – page 75
The entire time I was reading this book, I was thinking, "I wonder where they are today?" When Carroll interviewed these young ladies between 1995-1997, I was a teenager myself.
I was so impressed at how they were able to articulate their feelings about family, body image, race in America, sexuality and relationships. Some of them were wise beyond their years. Carroll did an amazing job choosing young ladies from diverse socioeconomic backgrounds.
I would absolutely love for Carroll to give us a present day version of this book! Just thinking about the impact of social media and all the technological advances that have been made since 1997 but also the fact that the young ladies interviewed in this book could be their mothers or their mother's ages.
**My favorite was Nadine, 15, Massachusetts, Haitian immigrant **The Foreword was written by, Ntozake Shange (RIP) on 9/2/1995.
Rebecca Carroll did her thang with this conglomerate of Black adolescent girl narratives. To this year of our Lord 2019, said narratives are not uplifted and known enough. Black adolescent girl experiences ranging from navigating societal perceptions and betrayal of beautiful Black skin to persevering through predominately white spaces to transracial adoptions to hating and loving one’s Blackness to finding safety, community and validation of one’s authenticity is all up and through this book. Often Black women and girls are left out of the narrative when discussing the pursuits of freedom for Black folk. This book reopens the door for a more inclusive Black liberation by centering Black adolescent girls’ experiences in America.
A gem. A collection of stories from young Black girls across America. A book I will hold on close to, and pass down to my nieces and goddaughters. A book that sings of the complexities yet unapologetic attitudes of our precious Black girls. I was astonished by and inspired by their young voices. Powerful voices. Gentle voices. Passionate voices. Black voices.
It is powerful to hear from people in their own voice, especially those who are often marginalized and ignored. At times it was hard to follow but the threads connecting each story to the next were clear. A racial reckoning is LONG overdue in this country.....smh.
Even though it was written 20 years ago, it felt so timely! I wondered where life had taken each of these young women, and wished for their voices from today, as well. This is an important book!!
I really like this book. Somebody gave this to me as a gift several years ago. I think I was in my late teens. I thought it was really interesting to get a peak into the lives of other young girls.
One of the few books that I actually had to read, because it was not in audio form. The author interviewed a number of black girls and gave voice to their beliefs in this book. Unfortunately, the largest part of the book reads like the inside of a teenagers mind, inconsistent and self-indulgent.
Fourteen year old Reni from Birmingham Alabama made the book worthwhile when she opined: I do not share with them the history of slavery (she is from Nigeria). I think about it, but it’s not my history. There are certain things that I think are expected of you if you are to be considered as “truly” African-American: listening to rap music, being able to dance and perform and keep up with all the latest hip-hop moves, being angry and resentful at white people.
This is well interviewed, organized, and edited. It is important in the way it shares the voices of young black girls, from diverse backgrounds- both from the US and who have emigrated here- without judgement or commentary. What a fantastic book that allows teenagers to speak for and of themselves. Educators, and anyone wishing to understand more fully the young black girl, this is a must read!!
Excellent short stories from / interviews with those experiencing being a young black girl in America with nothing added (hence the apt title). Carroll employs admirable intentionality in elevating the voices (and those voices alone) of those with firsthand experience, whose "words talk miles of love and struggle," rather than the commentary and euphemisms of those who would deign to co-opt the conversation in the name of promoting their brand of diversity or multiculturalism.
A solid collection of interviews with young black women. Nothing incredible but I was happy to have read it. I'm trying to better educate myself, I guess.