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It Wasn't Roaring, It Was Weeping: Interpreting the Language of Our Fathers Without Repeating Their Stories
An honest and lyrical coming-of-age memoir of growing up in South Africa at the height of apartheid, and an invitation to recognize and refuse to repeat the sins of our fathers—from the bestselling author of Never Unfriended
“Heartfelt, emotionally charged reflections . . . [a] bracing memoir.”—Kirkus Review
“Important. Riveting. Unforgettable . . . a profoundly captivating story that can profoundly change your own story.”—Ann Voskamp, New York Times bestselling author of WayMaker
Born White in the heart of Zululand during the racial apartheid, Lisa-Jo Baker longed to write a new future for her children—a longing that set her on a journey to understand where she fit into a story of violence and faith, history and race. Before marriage and motherhood, she came to the United States to study to become a human rights advocate. When she naïvely walked right into America’s own turbulent racial landscape, Baker experienced the kind of painful awakening that is both individual and universal, personal and social. Yet years would go by before she traced this American trauma back to her own South African past.
Baker was a teenager when her mother died of cancer, leaving her with her father. Though they shared a language of faith and justice, she often feared him, unaware that his fierce temper had deep roots in a family’s and a nation’s pain. Decades later, old wounds reopened when she found herself spiraling into a terrifying version of her father, screaming herself hoarse at her son. Only then did Baker realize that to go forward—to refuse to repeat the sins of our fathers—we must first go back.
With a story that stretches from South Africa’s outback to Washington, D.C., It Wasn’t Roaring, It Was Weeping is a courageous look at inherited hurts and prejudices, and a hope-filled example for all who feel lost in life or worried that they’re too off course to make the necessary corrections. Baker’s story shows that it’s never too late to be free.
“Heartfelt, emotionally charged reflections . . . [a] bracing memoir.”—Kirkus Review
“Important. Riveting. Unforgettable . . . a profoundly captivating story that can profoundly change your own story.”—Ann Voskamp, New York Times bestselling author of WayMaker
Born White in the heart of Zululand during the racial apartheid, Lisa-Jo Baker longed to write a new future for her children—a longing that set her on a journey to understand where she fit into a story of violence and faith, history and race. Before marriage and motherhood, she came to the United States to study to become a human rights advocate. When she naïvely walked right into America’s own turbulent racial landscape, Baker experienced the kind of painful awakening that is both individual and universal, personal and social. Yet years would go by before she traced this American trauma back to her own South African past.
Baker was a teenager when her mother died of cancer, leaving her with her father. Though they shared a language of faith and justice, she often feared him, unaware that his fierce temper had deep roots in a family’s and a nation’s pain. Decades later, old wounds reopened when she found herself spiraling into a terrifying version of her father, screaming herself hoarse at her son. Only then did Baker realize that to go forward—to refuse to repeat the sins of our fathers—we must first go back.
With a story that stretches from South Africa’s outback to Washington, D.C., It Wasn’t Roaring, It Was Weeping is a courageous look at inherited hurts and prejudices, and a hope-filled example for all who feel lost in life or worried that they’re too off course to make the necessary corrections. Baker’s story shows that it’s never too late to be free.
254 pages, Kindle Edition
Published May 7, 2024
135 people are currently reading
7893 people want to read
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 292 reviews
July 8, 2024
4.5~4★
“This story is not a movie. It is not fiction. And in places it may be as painful for you to read as it was for me and others to live. I like to watch movie trailers because I want to be prepared for the story I’m about to step into. This one includes emotional, verbal, physical, and racial violence. I want you to be prepared, and I’m grateful if you choose to keep reading. Because that isn’t the end of the story. There is hope ahead.”
Most authors don’t give you trigger warnings, but Lisa-Jo Baker isn’t like most authors. In her memoir, (if I can call it that), she describes her sometimes violent childhood in South Africa and discovering her own surprising capacity for violence in her second homeland of America.
“I watched myself terrorize my son. I watched his spirit cower behind his eyes, behind the tears he was too embarrassed to let fall, watching me and waiting for it to be over. Trying to become as small and still as possible so as not to step on another landmine. I watched and I recognized the signs of my own terrified childhood. And still I kept screaming. I chose to keep screaming. And as I hovered outside myself, watching the lava pour out of my mouth, one single thought shot ice-cold through my inferno: I am my father. “
She seems to have had a fractured relationship with her father, a man who was sometimes the kindly doctor and sometimes an enraged, screaming man whose ‘monster’ was unleashed on his daughter when she upset him. To discover she had inherited that monster was a shock.
I think that’s what she means on a personal level about not repeating the stories of our fathers. As a boy, her father was witness to the violence of white South Africans against black farm workers, who lived not unlike slaves, or at least indentured workers, on the farms of white landowners.
When I first began reading, I was annoyed at how self-centred she seemed. I could see why her father lost his temper (although he badly overreacted). As she moved into the history of both her family and her country of South Africa, I understood more about how she had tried to tear herself away from all that was wrong but hold onto all that was good and loving.
I think she also means that our countries aren’t bound to repeat the mistakes of their founding fathers. Nations and individuals can learn to do better.
In her case, her mother died when she was a teen, and her father went round the bend, I would say, remarrying suddenly and angry that she wasn’t happy for him. She’d barely got over the shock of losing her mother, to whom she was closest.
Father and daughter really are like two sides of the same coin, and over the years we see how inextricably they are linked and loyal to each other, and also how they have continued to exasperate each other.
Her stories and anecdotes sometimes stop rather abruptly, and I’d find myself in another part of her life, leaving me wondering what happened to that person or relationship. But this is not a linear novel nor a time-jumping historical fiction. These are memories from her life, and she moves back and forth, often foreshadowing something that will happen years later, when she is a mother herself.
She speaks of the many languages spoken in her country and the different cultures. Not only were the original tribes different from each other, so were the whites who arrived later.
“The dinosaur of White supremacy had been trekking across the subcontinent since the first dissatisfied Dutch-speaking colonists broke with their Cape community and church in the 1830s in search of a promised land where they would be free from British rule and could establish their own independent land and doctrine.”
She uses her personal memories to introduce some of the history of South Africa, including the restricted rights of the many indigenous tribes.
“And by 1970, when my dad was chugging the eighteen-hour drive between medical school and Manguzi, the government was passing the Bantu Homelands Citizenship Act. Millions of indigenous people (Bantus) would be herded into designated Black-only areas (homelands), also known as Bantustans. Think Jim Crow meets Indian reservations for each of South Africa’s indigenous people groups.”
Born in the Bantustan of KwaZulu, the Land of the Zulus, she grew up simply accepting her place as a ‘native’ South African, waving to the little black kids at the side of the road when her family drove to the farm for their holidays, which she loved.
“I know nothing about the children waving to me other than that to wave back brings me joy. So I assume that a shared joyful existence is mutual. I don’t know that they are from the Xhosa tribe. I don’t know that they’ve picked up Afrikaans as part of their parents’ migration from the Ciskei, the “homeland” area where our government has forcibly relocated their people, this side of the mighty Kei River. I don’t know that this adopted language is evidence of their family’s search for work from Afrikaans-speaking farmers.
. . .
I don’t question my name and I don’t question how our staff live. I just know it is not how we live. Their homes are a background detail in the painting of my favorite holiday scene. Interesting local texture, a curiosity, these people who I don’t think about enough to wonder why a whole family would ever choose to live in a one-room dwelling with no indoor plumbing, the size of my farmhouse bedroom.”
Other than being occasionally annoyed by her troublesome nature (I think she’d be hard to live with, and so would her father), I enjoyed her story and learning more about South Africa. Her writing is descriptive, heartfelt, and easy to read.
She has notes at the end of the book with references to some of the history and facts, including that the title comes from the Epigraph which comes from a song.
“ ‘Weeping’ was written by Dan Heymann, Ian Cohen, Peter Cohen, and Tom Fox of the band Bright Blue in the 1980s as an anti-apartheid song.”
Thanks to #NetGalley and Convergent Books for a copy of #ItWasntRoaringItWasWeeping for review.
“This story is not a movie. It is not fiction. And in places it may be as painful for you to read as it was for me and others to live. I like to watch movie trailers because I want to be prepared for the story I’m about to step into. This one includes emotional, verbal, physical, and racial violence. I want you to be prepared, and I’m grateful if you choose to keep reading. Because that isn’t the end of the story. There is hope ahead.”
Most authors don’t give you trigger warnings, but Lisa-Jo Baker isn’t like most authors. In her memoir, (if I can call it that), she describes her sometimes violent childhood in South Africa and discovering her own surprising capacity for violence in her second homeland of America.
“I watched myself terrorize my son. I watched his spirit cower behind his eyes, behind the tears he was too embarrassed to let fall, watching me and waiting for it to be over. Trying to become as small and still as possible so as not to step on another landmine. I watched and I recognized the signs of my own terrified childhood. And still I kept screaming. I chose to keep screaming. And as I hovered outside myself, watching the lava pour out of my mouth, one single thought shot ice-cold through my inferno: I am my father. “
She seems to have had a fractured relationship with her father, a man who was sometimes the kindly doctor and sometimes an enraged, screaming man whose ‘monster’ was unleashed on his daughter when she upset him. To discover she had inherited that monster was a shock.
I think that’s what she means on a personal level about not repeating the stories of our fathers. As a boy, her father was witness to the violence of white South Africans against black farm workers, who lived not unlike slaves, or at least indentured workers, on the farms of white landowners.
When I first began reading, I was annoyed at how self-centred she seemed. I could see why her father lost his temper (although he badly overreacted). As she moved into the history of both her family and her country of South Africa, I understood more about how she had tried to tear herself away from all that was wrong but hold onto all that was good and loving.
I think she also means that our countries aren’t bound to repeat the mistakes of their founding fathers. Nations and individuals can learn to do better.
In her case, her mother died when she was a teen, and her father went round the bend, I would say, remarrying suddenly and angry that she wasn’t happy for him. She’d barely got over the shock of losing her mother, to whom she was closest.
Father and daughter really are like two sides of the same coin, and over the years we see how inextricably they are linked and loyal to each other, and also how they have continued to exasperate each other.
Her stories and anecdotes sometimes stop rather abruptly, and I’d find myself in another part of her life, leaving me wondering what happened to that person or relationship. But this is not a linear novel nor a time-jumping historical fiction. These are memories from her life, and she moves back and forth, often foreshadowing something that will happen years later, when she is a mother herself.
She speaks of the many languages spoken in her country and the different cultures. Not only were the original tribes different from each other, so were the whites who arrived later.
“The dinosaur of White supremacy had been trekking across the subcontinent since the first dissatisfied Dutch-speaking colonists broke with their Cape community and church in the 1830s in search of a promised land where they would be free from British rule and could establish their own independent land and doctrine.”
She uses her personal memories to introduce some of the history of South Africa, including the restricted rights of the many indigenous tribes.
“And by 1970, when my dad was chugging the eighteen-hour drive between medical school and Manguzi, the government was passing the Bantu Homelands Citizenship Act. Millions of indigenous people (Bantus) would be herded into designated Black-only areas (homelands), also known as Bantustans. Think Jim Crow meets Indian reservations for each of South Africa’s indigenous people groups.”
Born in the Bantustan of KwaZulu, the Land of the Zulus, she grew up simply accepting her place as a ‘native’ South African, waving to the little black kids at the side of the road when her family drove to the farm for their holidays, which she loved.
“I know nothing about the children waving to me other than that to wave back brings me joy. So I assume that a shared joyful existence is mutual. I don’t know that they are from the Xhosa tribe. I don’t know that they’ve picked up Afrikaans as part of their parents’ migration from the Ciskei, the “homeland” area where our government has forcibly relocated their people, this side of the mighty Kei River. I don’t know that this adopted language is evidence of their family’s search for work from Afrikaans-speaking farmers.
. . .
I don’t question my name and I don’t question how our staff live. I just know it is not how we live. Their homes are a background detail in the painting of my favorite holiday scene. Interesting local texture, a curiosity, these people who I don’t think about enough to wonder why a whole family would ever choose to live in a one-room dwelling with no indoor plumbing, the size of my farmhouse bedroom.”
Other than being occasionally annoyed by her troublesome nature (I think she’d be hard to live with, and so would her father), I enjoyed her story and learning more about South Africa. Her writing is descriptive, heartfelt, and easy to read.
She has notes at the end of the book with references to some of the history and facts, including that the title comes from the Epigraph which comes from a song.
“ ‘Weeping’ was written by Dan Heymann, Ian Cohen, Peter Cohen, and Tom Fox of the band Bright Blue in the 1980s as an anti-apartheid song.”
Thanks to #NetGalley and Convergent Books for a copy of #ItWasntRoaringItWasWeeping for review.
February 6, 2024
One of the most beautiful books I’ve read in a long time.
November 6, 2024
Lisa-Jo Baker’s memoir swept me up and broke me in a thousand pieces. With her father’s blessing, she writes this tenderhearted, compelling novel of her own father-daughter relationship with him. She shares stories of his growing up with a prejudiced father, and about herself being born white in 1970’s apartheid South Africa and how color affected both throughout life. Baker’s memoir leaves nothing out, showing the bad with the good.. such goodness in the reconciliation with her father, and no longer denying but accepting the (obvious) things they share, so as, not to repeat bad family history. Will read again, and do recommend it. 5 stars — Pub. 5/7/24
June 14, 2024
The ratings are extremely high for this one and I can’t bring myself to rate it lower than 4 stars but I honestly didn’t love it. Content-wise, it’s great. I just got tired of the writing style that was so full of similes and metaphors, it almost didn’t make sense or just sounded silly sometimes. Like when she talks about her dad giving her a shot and describes it as the needle playing hide and seek in the hole where it inserted the medicine. Too much.
May 31, 2024
This book is stunning. Some parts were painful and hard to read, but Lisa Jo writes them with tenderness and frankness — a faithful witness to brokenness, but with dignity and not sensationalism like so many other writers have been prone to do. She is also a faithful witness to the redemption in her own story, showing the way for repentance, forgiveness and restoration after generations of violence and rage.
My experience with the book was greatly enhanced by listening to the audiobook version, read by Lisa Jo herself. The beautifully lyrical writing is made all the richer by hearing her “tell” the story in her own literal voice.
This may be my book of the year. It was so impactful to me, and I know I’ll read it again.
Major CW for verbal abuse and descriptions of racial violence.
My experience with the book was greatly enhanced by listening to the audiobook version, read by Lisa Jo herself. The beautifully lyrical writing is made all the richer by hearing her “tell” the story in her own literal voice.
This may be my book of the year. It was so impactful to me, and I know I’ll read it again.
Major CW for verbal abuse and descriptions of racial violence.
April 18, 2024
This book! I couldn't put it down! Lisa-Jo's captivating and beautifully written memoir will sweep you around the world, from South Africa, through Europe, to the US and back. Perfectly woven between her father's life and her own, it's a story of heartbreak and healing, humbling and reckoning, grief and love. This journey will leave you with your jaw dropped more than one time and bring you to tears. This is a must-read and will likely be my favorite book of the year. I also highly recommend that you listen on audio to get a full appreciation for the languages and dialects that Lisa-Jo portrays.
September 29, 2024
Christian nonfiction, memoir
I think this will be my favorite book of 2024. It is equal parts heartrending and hopeful. It shows the bad and the good. When the story first began, I didn't think there would ever be any reconciliation, and yet it was there.
I particularly appreciated the way she shows how important it is to "go back" to avoid repeating history. She weaves this idea in and through the stories and thoughts, and it is so valuable. If we just try to erase the bad parts of history, we make ourselves vulnerable to repeating the bad parts.
Anyhow, it's definitely a worthwhile read. I listened to the audiobook, narrated by Lisa-Jo herself, and I loved hearing the familiar accent come through.
I will probably read it again, and I recommend it. Just be aware that there is some language in first portion of the book.
I think this will be my favorite book of 2024. It is equal parts heartrending and hopeful. It shows the bad and the good. When the story first began, I didn't think there would ever be any reconciliation, and yet it was there.
I particularly appreciated the way she shows how important it is to "go back" to avoid repeating history. She weaves this idea in and through the stories and thoughts, and it is so valuable. If we just try to erase the bad parts of history, we make ourselves vulnerable to repeating the bad parts.
Anyhow, it's definitely a worthwhile read. I listened to the audiobook, narrated by Lisa-Jo herself, and I loved hearing the familiar accent come through.
I will probably read it again, and I recommend it. Just be aware that there is some language in first portion of the book.
May 5, 2025
I loved the ending of this book so much! The honesty and beauty with which Lisa put her words together was incredible. There was so much redemption in the story as well as a super fascinating look into South African culture and things like apartheid. I learned new things while enjoying a good story, definitely a win in my mind!
March 27, 2025
Just beautiful. Raw and honest account of the authors childhood growing up white in apartheid South Africa and grappling with what all of it means. All wrapped up with unraveling her own difficult family dynamic. Told in a gorgeous poetic prose that is so vivid with imagery. Brought me to tears. Redemptive AND honest. Which I feel like is rare in books these days. 10 stars tbh and I hope I can write like this one day.
June 25, 2024
Really great memoir, amazing content. I just felt the lyrical writing was a bit over the top in spots. I *really* wish she had just written "normally", but that is just a personal preference.
January 14, 2025
I love all (most) memoirs because real life is complex and beautiful. And then there is real, raw life written by a real writer and that is rich! And that is this book! It Wasn't Roaring, It Was Weeping is going on the favorites shelf.
May 11, 2024
I have a rule for myself that I don't rate books written by authors I know because I don't trust myself to be completely honest in my rating and I would never bring a rating down with a less-than-5-star review. But this book is so stunning, so beautiful, that I can't resist. I cried through most of the final chapters, not out of sadness but because of the grace and healing that Lisa-Jo puts into such beautiful words. This is a book about apartheid and racism, but it's also a book about the wounds inflicted by parents and the healing that can be found. I really cannot express how much I love this book, but I'm quite certain it will find itself among my favorite rereads.
May 29, 2024
I am wide-eyed after finishing this book, caused by the stories of fear, hate, and anger, but also of grace, forgiveness, and joy. As a listener to Lisa-Jo’s podcast and her voice that is almost always filled with laughter and joy, I was struck by how she was willing to share some truly awful stories and family history so that readers could see threads of God’s grace in her and her father’s life. This book is hard to put down; it reads like a novel. Excellent writing & care for the words and stories she shares.
February 17, 2025
My friend recommended this to me because my aunt was a South African citizen. It hit a major nerve for me relative to Lisa-Jo's mom's early death, her father's quick remarriage, and the disordered nature of her relationship with her father.
In the forward, Lisa-Jo Baker notes that her father helped her with remembering and had read every word. Like a spotlight on a dark night, this both arrested and astonished me. Because the father, a highly respected physician, says and does things to his daughter that are not lovely. The measure of reconciliation and trust involved in collaborating on a project like this is unfathomable.
As I listened to the final chapters, I found myself walking down a main street in my small town — ugly crying, ugly sobbing, ugly wiping my face with a used tissue. My heart yearned for that kind of restoration with my own father, who passed decades ago. It will come, I believe, in glory.
In the forward, Lisa-Jo Baker notes that her father helped her with remembering and had read every word. Like a spotlight on a dark night, this both arrested and astonished me. Because the father, a highly respected physician, says and does things to his daughter that are not lovely. The measure of reconciliation and trust involved in collaborating on a project like this is unfathomable.
As I listened to the final chapters, I found myself walking down a main street in my small town — ugly crying, ugly sobbing, ugly wiping my face with a used tissue. My heart yearned for that kind of restoration with my own father, who passed decades ago. It will come, I believe, in glory.
March 25, 2025
"It's never too late to crawl out of skins we've been wearing that are split and don't fit anymore. Every time my father chooses to listen and bear witness to the pain, past or present, of one of his children, old skins are shed. You cannot stitch together dead skin; it must be shed or cut completely away. Every time I choose to listen and bear witness to the whole of my father's story, old skins are shed, old boxes opened, broken down, and thrown out. I left to study the injustice against nations maybe because the equation I was always trying to solve was in my own home." ❤️😭
This book is searingly honest and yet relentlessly hopeful. I am painfully aware that not every story of childhood emotional abuse by an angry parent ends in such sweet redemption as Lisa-Jo's. But I'm so grateful that hers did, and that she shared it with us.
This book is searingly honest and yet relentlessly hopeful. I am painfully aware that not every story of childhood emotional abuse by an angry parent ends in such sweet redemption as Lisa-Jo's. But I'm so grateful that hers did, and that she shared it with us.
April 4, 2025
Really beautiful and honest memoir. I know very little about South Africa and this made me want to know more!
August 10, 2024
Listened to the book narrated by the author. This book really gave me a strong sense of South Africa and her childhood there. Her relationship with her father was beautifully written. The author writes in a lyrical yet powerful compelling voice.
November 13, 2023
The title of this book resonates so deeply that it left me emotionally moved on numerous occasions throughout my reading journey. Having been born and raised in Apartheid South Africa, I found myself revisiting many personal stories and experiences. Reading this narrative has proven to be a transformative experience, as it has opened my heart to the powerful act of forgiveness and is actively facilitating my journey toward moving forward.
The profound impact of the book extends to my perspective on my parents, who, unfortunately, have passed away. It has provided me with a new lens through which to understand their experiences, shedding light on aspects of their lives that I may not have fully comprehended before. Regrettably, the opportunity to hear their stories anew is no longer available to me, yet this book has become a conduit for a deeper understanding of their struggles and triumphs during the era of Apartheid. In essence, it has become a source of healing, allowing me to navigate the complexities of my past and fostering a sense of peace and reconciliation within myself.
The profound impact of the book extends to my perspective on my parents, who, unfortunately, have passed away. It has provided me with a new lens through which to understand their experiences, shedding light on aspects of their lives that I may not have fully comprehended before. Regrettably, the opportunity to hear their stories anew is no longer available to me, yet this book has become a conduit for a deeper understanding of their struggles and triumphs during the era of Apartheid. In essence, it has become a source of healing, allowing me to navigate the complexities of my past and fostering a sense of peace and reconciliation within myself.
April 29, 2024
It only takes the first chapter to know that you are reading something special - I finished reading it and said “wow” out loud. Much appreciation to Lisa-Jo Baker and Convergent for the advanced reader copy. Vivid prose ripe with metaphor and hard truth makes this book a sharply written and captivating read that calls to our deepest emotions.
“History isn’t just something you study in school. It’s trapped inside of you, throbbing beneath your ribcage.”
“History isn’t just something you study in school. It’s trapped inside of you, throbbing beneath your ribcage.”
July 23, 2024
I listened to this very, very slowly. There was so much to ponder on and it required lots of time for that…at least for me. Ms Baker’s story, while incredibly compelling, is not an easy one to read. It is sobering and thought provoking and filled with beauty and hope amidst a lot of heartache and questions. I appreciated that she didn’t give easy answers to all the questions she asked…in some cases, there were no answers at all. But that’s what kept me picking it up again, that mix of difficult circumstances which at times made me uneasy, alongside the repeated truth of knowing Who is carrying her through all those hard things. That thread of Hope is what keeps us all going through our lives, isn’t it?
September 23, 2024
I’ve seen several people whose opinions I respect greatly rave about this memoir by Lisa-Jo Baker, so I was thrilled when @convergent_books sent me a copy.
The writing in this book is as gorgeous as its cover. Lisa-Jo tells her coming-of-age story in the midst of the height of South Africa’s apartheid. In this memoir, she grapples with both her personal family history and the history of her country. It is beautifully written. It’s not an easy book to read—I saw several reviews that said they devoured it quickly, and I could see why because the writing is compelling, but that was not my reading experience. I read slowly, soaking in both the beauty and the heaviness of Lisa-Jo’s story and the story of South Africa.
I found this book to be eye-opening on many levels. I’m eager to discuss this one with my mother after she finishes it, who grew up in East Africa in Kenya and Tanzania during the 1960s and early 1970s—same continent, but a different experience from that of South Africa’s apartheid. Nonetheless, it was helpful for me to read Lisa-Jo’s story and get a sense of what it was like for my mother to come to America as a college student.
I loved these lines in particular: “To forgive is not to forget. South Africa bears witness to this truth. To forgive is to see and to know the truth. And in knowing that you have been wronged, to choose to release the rage and the debt of pain owed you. Forgiveness is not an erasing of pain. It is looking the pain in the eyes and honoring it and then releasing it. And it does not require the participation of the perpetrator. But granting forgiveness helps us rediscover the humanity of the person who has wronged us. Asking for forgiveness helps us rediscover our own humanity. This is grace—the giving or receiving of what is not deserved. Umusa. Bishop Tutu taught our nation this. And then later I learned it as a daughter” (223).
There is more I’d love to write, but I don’t want to ruin the joy of reading Lisa-Jo’s story on your own.
The writing in this book is as gorgeous as its cover. Lisa-Jo tells her coming-of-age story in the midst of the height of South Africa’s apartheid. In this memoir, she grapples with both her personal family history and the history of her country. It is beautifully written. It’s not an easy book to read—I saw several reviews that said they devoured it quickly, and I could see why because the writing is compelling, but that was not my reading experience. I read slowly, soaking in both the beauty and the heaviness of Lisa-Jo’s story and the story of South Africa.
I found this book to be eye-opening on many levels. I’m eager to discuss this one with my mother after she finishes it, who grew up in East Africa in Kenya and Tanzania during the 1960s and early 1970s—same continent, but a different experience from that of South Africa’s apartheid. Nonetheless, it was helpful for me to read Lisa-Jo’s story and get a sense of what it was like for my mother to come to America as a college student.
I loved these lines in particular: “To forgive is not to forget. South Africa bears witness to this truth. To forgive is to see and to know the truth. And in knowing that you have been wronged, to choose to release the rage and the debt of pain owed you. Forgiveness is not an erasing of pain. It is looking the pain in the eyes and honoring it and then releasing it. And it does not require the participation of the perpetrator. But granting forgiveness helps us rediscover the humanity of the person who has wronged us. Asking for forgiveness helps us rediscover our own humanity. This is grace—the giving or receiving of what is not deserved. Umusa. Bishop Tutu taught our nation this. And then later I learned it as a daughter” (223).
There is more I’d love to write, but I don’t want to ruin the joy of reading Lisa-Jo’s story on your own.
January 9, 2025
3.5 stars.
I liked this book but I didn't love it.
It was more about racial injustice, and less about relationships, than I expected. There were beautiful parts though.
"I clap and sway and want to climb inside the music and make it my home."
"The sky is the lightest blue crayon from a coloring box."
I liked this book but I didn't love it.
It was more about racial injustice, and less about relationships, than I expected. There were beautiful parts though.
"I clap and sway and want to climb inside the music and make it my home."
"The sky is the lightest blue crayon from a coloring box."
January 26, 2025
so much of this memoir resonated with me in such a deeply personal way. the exploration of how we inherit the best and worst qualities of our parents and seeing Lisa-Jo’s process of coming to terms with that was really wonderful.
December 18, 2024
One of my favorite books of the year. Lisa Jo pours out her heart as she shares her raw and real story in this memoir. This is a must read.
May 10, 2024
I actually listened to this on Audible and it was the first time I listened to an audiobook to the end. What's more, I actually thoroughly enjoyed it! I was captivated by Lisa-Jo's narration and hearing the different languages offered me a richer "reading" experience. I finished it in 3 sessions, in which I was completely immersed in her beautiful and tender story.
September 17, 2024
If everyone wrote a memoir like Lisa-Jo, I'd never stop reading them. This was beautiful and heart wrenching in the best way.
September 16, 2024
I love Lisa-Jo's way with words. It is so beautiful the way she writes. This is such a painfully, beautiful story of healing.
October 3, 2024
I was spellbound by the stories and deeply moved by the insights. The writing was stunning and the audio narration was excellent! Wish I could give this one more stars. I highly recommend it!
September 27, 2024
3.5. Powerful story but language was a little too flowery to ever get into the flow of the book. Also found out she was mean to my mom once. Boo 😒
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November 4, 2024To the graveyard you go!! Josh it doesn't matter that the graveyard is included in my yearly review bc you're still winning either way 😔
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