A stunning lyrical commentary on the constructions of race, gender, and class in the fraught nexus of a Black woman’s personal experience and cultural history
The Fair Housing Act passed in 1968, and more than fifty years later, yours is seemingly the only Black family on your block in Minneapolis. You and your Black African husband, both college graduates, make less money than some white people with a felony record and no high school diploma. You’re the only Black student in your graduate program. You just aren’t working hard enough. You’re too sensitive. Sandra Bland? George Floyd? Don't take everything so personally. Amid the white smiles of Minnesota Nice and the Minnesota Paradox—the insidious racism of an ostensibly inclusive place to live—what do you do? If you’re Taiyon J. Coleman, you write. In Traveling without Moving, Coleman shares intimate essays from her her childhood in Chicago—growing up in poverty with four siblings and a single mother—and the empowering decision to leave her first marriage. She writes about being the only Black student in a prestigious and predominantly white creative writing program, about institutional racism and implicit bias in writing instruction, about the violent legacies of racism in the U.S. housing market, about the maternal health disparities seen across the country and their implication in her own miscarriage. She explores what it means to write her story and that of her family—an act at once a responsibility and a privilege—bringing forth the inherent contradictions between American ideals and Black reality. Using a powerful blend of perspectives that move between a first-person lens of lived experience and a wider-ranging critique of U.S. culture, policy, and academia, Coleman’s writing evinces how a Black woman in America is always on the run, always Harriet Tubman, traveling with her babies in tow, seeking safety, desperate to survive, thrive, and finally find freedom.
an abysmal, awfully written report from a Black Liberal Elite addressed their friendly White Liberal Elites, containing every single cliche you would assume going in. amazing how "contemporary patterns of exclusion" can be rattled off in the famous "You Can Miss Me with That" essay with POVERTY being listed as an 'identity trait' rather than a relation to modes of capital accumulation: "This willful ignorance continues the systemic oppression of Brown, Black, poor, and gendered bodies on every finger and thumb of the institution’s hand: the students in the classroom, the faculty instructors, the staff, the administration, and the communities that the college serves" -- the community that this college serves are comprised of families with a median income of $75,400; not that great! And you know what would make that better? Fighting to eliminate economic inequality & making college tuition free, not pretending that a better representation of poor people at universities matters one iota for poor people anywhere else. For Liberals like these, "equity" means nothing more than making sure that the various skin colours of the oppressed mirror the various skin colours of the oppressors, not that the oppression itself end. Demographically appropriate domination of the poor by the wealthy.
[note: the words "capitalism" and "capital" are not used once in this sub-bell hooks diatribe against inequality. and "capitalist" gets but one offhand mention alongside Covid-19, while again missing that the class composition of those most affected by the pandemic is more primordial than their race gender or creed; in Taiyon Coleman's world, a more just Covid-19 response wouldn't be one where health care workers were better protected from and compensated for precarious labour, it's just one where proportionately more white people were among the unnecessary dead--some idea of social justice!]
The personal is sociopolitical. Taiyon J. Coleman’s “Traveling Without Moving” is a collection of first-person essays that provides an intricate portrait of a Black woman’s experience of survival in interrelated spheres of oppression in American institutions. Coleman is a first-generation college graduate, the first in her family to become a professor. She draws from her own lived experiences as a child growing up with a single parent in the South side of Chicago, her journey through White academic spaces, and finding community as an educator and writer in Minnesota. Throughout the book, Coleman weaves in a perceptive critique of the societal marginalization she endured as a Black woman who grew up in poverty. As she writes earnestly about her will and desperation to survive, Coleman also offers a broad view of the persistence of oppression in various systems such as healthcare, education, and housing.
Coleman writes in a voice rooted in awareness of intergenerational woundings and learnings, invoking her immediate kin and ancestors who sought and found freedom from bondage. At times, her testimonies are self-deprecating, yet always viscerally striking and wide-eyed. Coleman’s calling as a poet and educator shines through in her intelligent probing of her lived realities as they collide with structural racism, classism, and gender biases.
I read the essays from the lens of a non-Black woman of color. Although we grew up an entire ocean and continents apart, Coleman brought me back to my own childhood, as she invited readers to her grandmother’s living room. The elder eagerly shared advice that may be above the emotional capacity of a pre-pubescent girl, but I understood that is how Grandmother best showed love. I was gripped by Coleman’s account of her heartbreak over miscarriage and the matter-of-factly way she described the bouts with hospitals and clinics that were largely dismissive of her plight. Racial harms encountered in a graduate studies classroom by a professor who is disparaging of the Black experience are contrasted with her own awakening to the different ways her Liberian refugee students are confronting their shifting knowledge of self-identity in the United States.
“Traveling Without Moving” is a memorable read for anyone who seeks to dive deeply into how a Black woman experienced and witnessed both active and passive violence. Intimate essays offer an invitation for readers to reflect on their journeys of privilege and persistence. Coleman writes with genuineness and openness about important learnings about navigating – and surviving – America and its many contradictions.
This is a great work of writing and a must read if you want to have a better understanding of racism and micro-aggressions and how they have a lasting impact on marginalized people. I had known that Minnesota falls dead last on many racial disparity measures. Being a white middle class male I could try to imagine what that means, but I would never have the lived experience of the many ways the centuries of institutional racism cascade around us to shape our reality to my benefit at the cost of violence and detriment to others. Dr. Coleman’s writing has given us real life examples of what that looks and feels like. It makes me sad that woke is a word stolen and manipulated for a political end. Until this happened it was a perfect term for the temporary glimmer, being awake to the reality of others. This book, at the very least, is a glimmer that reminds me there are small things I can do everyday to help. At its best, it leaves you with ideas and a framework for how to do so. The book would be a great addition to a curriculum or book group as the writing approaches the reader in a friendly casual manner that might help folks facilitate moving past white fragility more quickly. Lastly, for those of you, like myself, that are better able to digest books in audio form, the narrator does a great job. Read this book.
As I read this collection of very personal stories, I am reminded of the privilege we have to live in a beautiful state such as Minnesota, and at the same time I am horrified by the inequities that continue to exist. I remember having some of these conversations with a dear professor at Bemidji State; how she needed to "represent" and at the same time taught an HR course that should have required for all! The lessons we learned didn't just come from the text. I was haunted by some of same memories of her stories as I worked in public schools and was then a part of the public system that does not reach all students, particularly students of color. This book is a big reminder of how much work we need to do to become a truly "MN Nice" state for ALL to live in and pursue their hopes and dreams!
I'm reflecting on why this essay collection fell flat for me personally.
Is it that I expected it to be a memoir and to have more personal information?
Is it that the insights (about race, education, systemic oppression) felt like ones I'd heard before, without additional twists or nuance added?
Was I expecting a different writing style? I would not describe the writing as "stunning[ly] lyrical," with the exception of the introduction and the essay about touring writing programs.
I wish that this book was longer, or maybe I wish that it had simmered longer. Maybe this was just not for me.
This powerful memoir weaves personal experience and memorable storytelling together with policy, cultures, and systems designed to help some be successful and some not so much. Coleman is a wordsmith and knows how to lean in to craft and style -- sometimes using nuanced language as a way to make her point. Traveling Without Moving" moved me forward. I read it quickly but then wanted to return to study the complexity.
I sometimes forget what it's like to read a book of essays. It's easy, especially as an audiobook to treat the essays like chapters in a book, but they aren't. This was a good mental stretch for me to read the essays.
It was sad to read the reflections of discrimination Taiyon experienced in MN. The disparity of us/them in education and every facet of her life is sad. MN needs to do better. I'm glad her book is putting a spotlight on it.
An excellent read, much appreciated as an educator and health care provider amidst the “MN nice”. I will recommend this to friends and colleagues. Thank you to the author for the generosity in sharing personal stories as a call to action and curiosity for those partaking in structures that keep the rooms tilted.
This book is by a black woman who is my age and is a professor at St Catherines in MN who has written essays on her experience with systemic racism in the US. In my opinion it is a book that we should all read.
This book is a collection of essays describing the experiences of a Black Woman in the 21st century. The essays are snapshots of Tai's life. They are raw, unapologetic, deeply personal, and profound. They describe the author's racist experiences as a student, as a professor, and as a patient.
Each essay is a window into the unique and often painful realities Tai faces. From navigating the microaggressions and overt racism within academic institutions to confronting biases in healthcare, her narratives are a stark reminder of the systemic challenges that persist today. Tai's writing is both poignant and powerful, offering readers an unfiltered view of the struggles and triumphs of a Black woman in contemporary society.
What makes this collection stand out is its unflinching honesty and vulnerability. Tai does not shy away from the harsh truths of her experiences, making the reader feel her pain, frustration, and resilience. Her ability to articulate complex emotions and situations with clarity and empathy allows for a deeper understanding of the multifaceted nature of racism and its impact on personal and professional life.
Moreover, the book serves as a crucial call to action. It challenges readers to reflect on their own biases, consider the structures that perpetuate inequality, and actively work towards creating a more just and inclusive world. Tai's essays are not just personal reflections but also a powerful form of resistance and advocacy.
In summary, this book is an essential read for anyone looking to gain insight into the lived experiences of a Black woman in today's world. Tai's essays are a testament to her strength and determination, and they offer invaluable lessons on empathy, resilience, and the urgent need for societal change. This collection is both a literary achievement and a vital social commentary that will resonate with readers long after they turn the last page.