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When I Was White: A Memoir
The stunning and provocative coming-of-age memoir about Sarah Valentine's childhood as a white girl in the suburbs of Pittsburgh, and her discovery that her father was a black man.
At the age of 27, Sarah Valentine discovered that she was not, in fact, the white girl she had always believed herself to be. She learned the truth of her paternity: that her father was a black man. And she learned the truth about her own identity: mixed race.
And so Sarah began the difficult and absorbing journey of changing her identity from white to black. In this memoir, Sarah details the story of the discovery of her identity, how she overcame depression to come to terms with this identity, and, perhaps most importantly, asks: why? Her entire family and community had conspired to maintain her white identity. The supreme discomfort her white family and community felt about addressing issues of race—her race—is a microcosm of race relationships in America.
A black woman who lived her formative years identifying as white, Sarah's story is a kind of Rachel Dolezal in reverse, though her "passing" was less intentional than conspiracy. This memoir is an examination of the cost of being black in America, and how one woman threw off the racial identity she'd grown up with, in order to embrace a new one.
At the age of 27, Sarah Valentine discovered that she was not, in fact, the white girl she had always believed herself to be. She learned the truth of her paternity: that her father was a black man. And she learned the truth about her own identity: mixed race.
And so Sarah began the difficult and absorbing journey of changing her identity from white to black. In this memoir, Sarah details the story of the discovery of her identity, how she overcame depression to come to terms with this identity, and, perhaps most importantly, asks: why? Her entire family and community had conspired to maintain her white identity. The supreme discomfort her white family and community felt about addressing issues of race—her race—is a microcosm of race relationships in America.
A black woman who lived her formative years identifying as white, Sarah's story is a kind of Rachel Dolezal in reverse, though her "passing" was less intentional than conspiracy. This memoir is an examination of the cost of being black in America, and how one woman threw off the racial identity she'd grown up with, in order to embrace a new one.
304 pages, Hardcover
First published August 6, 2019
92 people are currently reading
1937 people want to read
About the author
Sarah Valentine
141 books63 followersSarah Valentine always wanted to be a writer. She began writing poetry in high school in Western Pennsylvania, where she also discovered Russian literature. She continued writing and translating poetry while her studies in Russian literature took her all over the world, including on a spectacular two-week journey on the Trans-Siberian railroad from Moscow to Beijing.
After obtaining her Ph.D. from Princeton in 2007 she attended a Callaloo summer writing workshop for African American writers and realized she needed to write about something much closer to home: her struggle with racial identity and the troubling family secrets that surrounded it. This led to her award-winning essay, "When I Was White," which was anthologized in Waveform: 21st-Century Essays by Women, and her memoir by the same title.
Sarah has received numerous awards for her writing and scholarship, most notably a prestigious Lannan Foundation Writer's Fellowship in 2013. She has taught literature and creative writing at Princeton, University of California-Los Angeles, University of California-Riverside, and Northwestern University.
Sarah enjoys writing about topics related to black and mixed-race and African American identity, especially in historical settings. She loves murder mysteries, ghost stories, fairytales, folklore, and myth (and, of course, Russian literature) - anything that gives us a glimpse into another world. Sarah is endlessly curious, loves to travel, and believes the world is full of surprising, wonderful things to be discovered.
After obtaining her Ph.D. from Princeton in 2007 she attended a Callaloo summer writing workshop for African American writers and realized she needed to write about something much closer to home: her struggle with racial identity and the troubling family secrets that surrounded it. This led to her award-winning essay, "When I Was White," which was anthologized in Waveform: 21st-Century Essays by Women, and her memoir by the same title.
Sarah has received numerous awards for her writing and scholarship, most notably a prestigious Lannan Foundation Writer's Fellowship in 2013. She has taught literature and creative writing at Princeton, University of California-Los Angeles, University of California-Riverside, and Northwestern University.
Sarah enjoys writing about topics related to black and mixed-race and African American identity, especially in historical settings. She loves murder mysteries, ghost stories, fairytales, folklore, and myth (and, of course, Russian literature) - anything that gives us a glimpse into another world. Sarah is endlessly curious, loves to travel, and believes the world is full of surprising, wonderful things to be discovered.
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 180 reviews
August 20, 2019
The writing and editing didn’t really bother me. I’m not that smart. It’s just a mediocre book at best. What everyone seems to be dancing around in their reviews is how the hell didn’t you know you were black!?!? When I realized she was 27!!! before she accepted, knew, realized that she was black, total bullshit. I’m thinking that she was a kid or a teenager when this realization took place. EVERYONE but you and your family questioned your ethnicity? I then had to google images of the author for confirmation of how she looked. Stevie Wonder could see she’s black. AND THEN when she decided/confirmed that she was black she just automatically found these stereotypical black super powers? She became more assertive, more outspoken, that angry black woman? Sorry about my rant but I know and am related to black individuals who really could pass and wouldn’t dream of it. The author seems to be a beautiful lady who has had the great privilege of a solid middle class life with two parents who love her. I simply couldn’t get past her ignorance and couldn’t enjoy the book. You still might be able to.
August 19, 2019
What a frustrating book. Right off the bat, you should know Valentine doesn't meet or even conclusively identify her biological father. I know life doesn't always wrap up neatly the way fiction does, but to write this memoir without any kind of closure on the question of her biological father's identity seems...questionable? Although now that I've said that, I'm realizing that if I'm this uncomfortable as a disinterested reader, what must it feel like to be Valentine and live with that ambiguity your whole life? So maybe, upon reflection, that's what she was going for.
Still, many of the details that were included felt extraneous. Her rapturous description of her wedding, for example, was totally over the top--and as she admits a few chapters later, the marriage didn't last, so did we really need to know what color her bridesmaids' dresses were? And the pages and pages recounting philosophical discussions with friends in college--we get it, you were an insufferable pseudo-intellectual masking insecurity, don't make me sit in the Denny's booth with you and relive the whole thing.
This memoir is at its best when the author is recounting and analyzing the many conversations she had with her mother over the years, trying to get at the truth of how she was conceived. Her mother is a deeply flawed but totally fascinating person--I was analyzing every word out of her mouth right along with Valentine, putting on my deerstalker cap and going all armchair detective. Valentine has clearly done a lot of emotional work to process her own feelings, and while she can't forgive or excuse her mother's actions, she also seems to understand her mother surprisingly well.
Valentine also reflects meaningfully on her experience of "coming out as black," growing to understand her biracial identity, and the privilege inherent in white people's ignoring race or pretending it doesn't matter. So I suppose my recommendation is to read this book with the goal of learning about how racial identity is constructed and how it feels to be a biracial person, rather than reading it to "solve the mystery."
Still, many of the details that were included felt extraneous. Her rapturous description of her wedding, for example, was totally over the top--and as she admits a few chapters later, the marriage didn't last, so did we really need to know what color her bridesmaids' dresses were? And the pages and pages recounting philosophical discussions with friends in college--we get it, you were an insufferable pseudo-intellectual masking insecurity, don't make me sit in the Denny's booth with you and relive the whole thing.
This memoir is at its best when the author is recounting and analyzing the many conversations she had with her mother over the years, trying to get at the truth of how she was conceived. Her mother is a deeply flawed but totally fascinating person--I was analyzing every word out of her mouth right along with Valentine, putting on my deerstalker cap and going all armchair detective. Valentine has clearly done a lot of emotional work to process her own feelings, and while she can't forgive or excuse her mother's actions, she also seems to understand her mother surprisingly well.
Valentine also reflects meaningfully on her experience of "coming out as black," growing to understand her biracial identity, and the privilege inherent in white people's ignoring race or pretending it doesn't matter. So I suppose my recommendation is to read this book with the goal of learning about how racial identity is constructed and how it feels to be a biracial person, rather than reading it to "solve the mystery."
August 5, 2019
Sarah Valentine was raised to believe that she was white, and that her dark complexion is the product of her Greek ancestors. But whereas she does have Greek ancestry in her DNA, Sarah is also of African descent. This strange but compelling, searingly honest memoir came to me courtesy of Net Galley and St. Martin’s Press; it will be available to the public tomorrow, August 6, 2019.
Valentine is an excellent writer, and she spins us back in time to her childhood, spent in a private school, a Catholic upper middle class family, celebrating European cultural events. She is the only African-American or mixed race student at her school, and every now and then, someone there will make a remark that infers she is Black. This puzzles her. Her own mother makes remarks bordering on White Supremacy, assumptions about the habits and character of Black people; of course, none of this should apply to Sarah, in her view, because she insists that Sarah is Greek and Irish, and Irish, and Irish.
Reading of her experiences, I am initially surprised that such culturally clueless, entirely white parents would be permitted to adopt a Black child; but here’s the thing. She isn’t adopted. She is her mother’s biological child, and to talk about who her biological father is, is to recognize that her mother was not always faithful to her father. It’s a keg of dynamite, one that her parents carefully navigate around. Not only have they not spoken about this to Sarah; they have not spoken about it to each other. It is a fiction that holds their marriage together; toss a tablecloth over that keg of TNT there and for goodness sake, don’t bump it.
I came away feeling sorry for her father.
There’s a lot more going on between Sarah and her parents, particularly her mother, a talented but not entirely stable parent who assigns impossible standards to her daughter. Meanwhile, as Sarah grows up and leaves for college, the fiction of her heritage is uncovered, first as a mere suspicion, then later as fact.
This isn’t an easy read or a fun one. It can’t be. Sarah’s pain bleeds through the pages as we see the toxic ingredients and outcomes in her story; her mother’s mental health and her own, as well as eating disorders and the implosion of her parents’ marriage. The particulars of her lifelong struggle make it impossible to draw a larger lesson in terms of civil rights issues; there are some salient points that will speak to women that grew up in the mid-20th century as Sarah’s mother did, and as I did. And here we find one small spark of optimism, the fact that when women are raped, whether at college or elsewhere, we stand a greater chance of being believed than we did in the past. Still, it’s a grim tale overall, and I don’t think there’s any other way Sarah could honestly have told it.
Valentine is an excellent writer, and she spins us back in time to her childhood, spent in a private school, a Catholic upper middle class family, celebrating European cultural events. She is the only African-American or mixed race student at her school, and every now and then, someone there will make a remark that infers she is Black. This puzzles her. Her own mother makes remarks bordering on White Supremacy, assumptions about the habits and character of Black people; of course, none of this should apply to Sarah, in her view, because she insists that Sarah is Greek and Irish, and Irish, and Irish.
Reading of her experiences, I am initially surprised that such culturally clueless, entirely white parents would be permitted to adopt a Black child; but here’s the thing. She isn’t adopted. She is her mother’s biological child, and to talk about who her biological father is, is to recognize that her mother was not always faithful to her father. It’s a keg of dynamite, one that her parents carefully navigate around. Not only have they not spoken about this to Sarah; they have not spoken about it to each other. It is a fiction that holds their marriage together; toss a tablecloth over that keg of TNT there and for goodness sake, don’t bump it.
I came away feeling sorry for her father.
There’s a lot more going on between Sarah and her parents, particularly her mother, a talented but not entirely stable parent who assigns impossible standards to her daughter. Meanwhile, as Sarah grows up and leaves for college, the fiction of her heritage is uncovered, first as a mere suspicion, then later as fact.
This isn’t an easy read or a fun one. It can’t be. Sarah’s pain bleeds through the pages as we see the toxic ingredients and outcomes in her story; her mother’s mental health and her own, as well as eating disorders and the implosion of her parents’ marriage. The particulars of her lifelong struggle make it impossible to draw a larger lesson in terms of civil rights issues; there are some salient points that will speak to women that grew up in the mid-20th century as Sarah’s mother did, and as I did. And here we find one small spark of optimism, the fact that when women are raped, whether at college or elsewhere, we stand a greater chance of being believed than we did in the past. Still, it’s a grim tale overall, and I don’t think there’s any other way Sarah could honestly have told it.
September 16, 2019
I really wanted to like this book. I did. I find stories about race and heritage interesting, and also love reading about someone who has an interesting story to tell about their childhood. This book should have been that. But it fell quite short.
Sarah does have a story to tell, but I don't know that it was particularly unique. I know of a few people who were raised (although clearly this is not acceptable) to believe that they had a father who was not in fact their biological father and I know a few who were also of a different race, where their race was never acknowledged and/or denied.
Having said that, I still think that part of her story was interesting. I really do. But she did not wow me with it. At all.
Quite frankly, the book was boring. She was and is spoiled and privileged, and that's perfectly fine, but reading a book about it isn't interesting. At all. I'm familiar with the area that she grew up in and she was VERY rich. Again, totally fine. But if I wanted to read a book like that, I would have. I wanted to read a book about race.
Here's one of the examples she used about her school and classmates. They remarked (paraphrased), "The racial ethnicity of our school changes depending on how you wear your hair (meaning Sarah)." Did it ever occur to her that it could have been quite possible for a black or a mixed race person to go to that school without white parents?
I can't imagine how pissed off I would be if I found out that my mother had lied to me the way she had been lied to. And without explicitly saying, I take it that her father was lied to as well. Those are crappy family secrets, she is not deserving of that and if I had been her I would have been angry too. I just found some of her antics a little dramatic. It's very upsetting. But that's life. You dig in and you keep going. She was lucky to have a parents that loved her, really loved her and wanted the best for her. And she got it. She had a very cushy life. She was educated at a very good school and got a PHD from Princeton. Good for her. But again, not particularly interesting.
As many people have pointed out, the book could use a good editor. She droned on about her conversations in high school, that had little bearing on the story, and also entire philosophical discussions in college, again from very affluent young people with little insight to offer. It did not add to the book, educate or entertain me.
The were some really good poignant pieces in the book. I would say the last couple of chapters were great. But it was really difficult to get past the painfully descriptions that had nothing to do with the whole book.
I gave this book 3 stars because I was able to finish it.
The book could have been better if it would have been properly edited, had more clear transitions (or relevant?) and had delved more into race. Also, I think her anger could have been better focused on her mother and the lie, instead of the subtle racism she experienced.
For someone who teaches writing (that's what her biography says) with a PHD, I thought this book was pretty terribly written.
Sarah does have a story to tell, but I don't know that it was particularly unique. I know of a few people who were raised (although clearly this is not acceptable) to believe that they had a father who was not in fact their biological father and I know a few who were also of a different race, where their race was never acknowledged and/or denied.
Having said that, I still think that part of her story was interesting. I really do. But she did not wow me with it. At all.
Quite frankly, the book was boring. She was and is spoiled and privileged, and that's perfectly fine, but reading a book about it isn't interesting. At all. I'm familiar with the area that she grew up in and she was VERY rich. Again, totally fine. But if I wanted to read a book like that, I would have. I wanted to read a book about race.
Here's one of the examples she used about her school and classmates. They remarked (paraphrased), "The racial ethnicity of our school changes depending on how you wear your hair (meaning Sarah)." Did it ever occur to her that it could have been quite possible for a black or a mixed race person to go to that school without white parents?
I can't imagine how pissed off I would be if I found out that my mother had lied to me the way she had been lied to. And without explicitly saying, I take it that her father was lied to as well. Those are crappy family secrets, she is not deserving of that and if I had been her I would have been angry too. I just found some of her antics a little dramatic. It's very upsetting. But that's life. You dig in and you keep going. She was lucky to have a parents that loved her, really loved her and wanted the best for her. And she got it. She had a very cushy life. She was educated at a very good school and got a PHD from Princeton. Good for her. But again, not particularly interesting.
As many people have pointed out, the book could use a good editor. She droned on about her conversations in high school, that had little bearing on the story, and also entire philosophical discussions in college, again from very affluent young people with little insight to offer. It did not add to the book, educate or entertain me.
The were some really good poignant pieces in the book. I would say the last couple of chapters were great. But it was really difficult to get past the painfully descriptions that had nothing to do with the whole book.
I gave this book 3 stars because I was able to finish it.
The book could have been better if it would have been properly edited, had more clear transitions (or relevant?) and had delved more into race. Also, I think her anger could have been better focused on her mother and the lie, instead of the subtle racism she experienced.
For someone who teaches writing (that's what her biography says) with a PHD, I thought this book was pretty terribly written.
August 23, 2019
I did not enjoy this book. A lot of the material the author included did nothing to further the story (an entire chapter on angsty, pseudo-philosophical rankings with a friend in a diner?), and there were multiple disjointed transitions. Additionally, the fact that the author continued to harangue her mother long after it became clear that she wasn’t going to get what she wanted from her got stale very quickly. You cannot berate someone into understanding your perspective, and while I feel for the author’s situation, her complete lack of empathy, sympathy, or understanding of the realities of her mother’s situation just became whiny. The author paints her mother as unreasonable, difficult, and mentally ill and then, surprise!, it turns out that the author was diagnosed with a heritable mental illness that her mother likely has, as well. Sounds like two difficult people in difficult circumstances, but the author seems incapable of grasping that perspective.
April 11, 2020
Throughout the book, I was amazed at how many times the author talked about doing coursework in writing, and yet her writing skills were so weak. Most frustrating for me were the multiple long passages that lead nowhere. The book really, really needed a good editor to prune out the excess. The premise of the book is engaging, it's a thought-provoking story, but I felt it could have been better told if cut down to a magazine-length article.
November 23, 2019
I am Sarah (Dunn) Valentines second cousin. Her Step Grandfather (Uncle Rob) and my Father (James Sr) were close Brothers. I have read her memoir and I have some pointed issues in her recollection and research in writing such a personal journey to self- gratification.
1) She did not reach out to family members to evaluate her conclusions. She has many other members that were close to her upbringing that were there to provided her with more depth to her story. My Father told a story about when his racist drunk Mother saw Sarah when she was born said I quote “Jimmy tell me is there a N****r in the family”. We all knew from day 1, but went along with Uncle Robs assessment that she was “Dark Irish”.
2) Uncle Robert always and whole hearted believed Sarah was white. My Father once pressed the issue and it almost came to a falling out between them. Sarah’s total disrespect and harsh treatment to not only my Uncle but his wife Carol is totally uncalled for. Uncle Rob would take a bullet for her.
3) Sarah’s stepfather Robert has for some unknown reason has had an issue with my family since the early 80’s. He is a self-absorbing dick that thinks he is far better than “Jimmy’s boys”. At Uncle Robs funeral he hosted a dinner where he told Jimmy’s boys that we celebrate and then go our separate ways. In other word’s I wash my hands with you. That was until my Brother Jeff invited him to his local high school game where Pittsburgh Steelers coach Mike Tomlin was present. He brought his son Tommy and glazed in the glory of what his cousin did for him. Now Jeff is GOD but the rest of us are still shit. I credit my brother to still hold the candle for his family and not hold any animosity to him or his family. With that said, Robert deserves all the credit and respect to raise a child that was not his and show Sarah the best life at any color could appreciate. He was always over the moon on Sarah’s accomplishments, goals and the person she came to be. Uncle Rob mirrored that, every time I talked to him. I always envied them both as we all knew different.
4) The way Sarah’s Mom is portrayed is utterly disgusting, she IS her biological Mother and should be honored for her commitment and love to making her who she is and what she has become. I do not believe she used racial slurs or racial injustice in anyway. That just sounds stupid, like I just stole a diamond ring and I show it to everyone.
5) My Brother was lucky enough to get an advance copy of the book in June. He sent it to me and the last chapter was about Uncle Robs Funeral. The whole chapter was so much fiction that I was obligated to send Sarah a FB message. I told her that I don’t give permission for my name or likeness to be included in her book and that she was not even there for the events she “claimed” occurred. She sent me back a message that she would delete that chapter immediately. Now if you have honest conviction and the truth in your memoir why wouldn’t you just leave it in or come back at me to justify the contents?
I think that if Sarah did her homework, questioned family members and put some more research in the book she could have had the tools to understand her upbringing on a different level. Sarah still has the right to question the reason and why but I think she would of had better knowledge to make the book totally true to herself.
1) She did not reach out to family members to evaluate her conclusions. She has many other members that were close to her upbringing that were there to provided her with more depth to her story. My Father told a story about when his racist drunk Mother saw Sarah when she was born said I quote “Jimmy tell me is there a N****r in the family”. We all knew from day 1, but went along with Uncle Robs assessment that she was “Dark Irish”.
2) Uncle Robert always and whole hearted believed Sarah was white. My Father once pressed the issue and it almost came to a falling out between them. Sarah’s total disrespect and harsh treatment to not only my Uncle but his wife Carol is totally uncalled for. Uncle Rob would take a bullet for her.
3) Sarah’s stepfather Robert has for some unknown reason has had an issue with my family since the early 80’s. He is a self-absorbing dick that thinks he is far better than “Jimmy’s boys”. At Uncle Robs funeral he hosted a dinner where he told Jimmy’s boys that we celebrate and then go our separate ways. In other word’s I wash my hands with you. That was until my Brother Jeff invited him to his local high school game where Pittsburgh Steelers coach Mike Tomlin was present. He brought his son Tommy and glazed in the glory of what his cousin did for him. Now Jeff is GOD but the rest of us are still shit. I credit my brother to still hold the candle for his family and not hold any animosity to him or his family. With that said, Robert deserves all the credit and respect to raise a child that was not his and show Sarah the best life at any color could appreciate. He was always over the moon on Sarah’s accomplishments, goals and the person she came to be. Uncle Rob mirrored that, every time I talked to him. I always envied them both as we all knew different.
4) The way Sarah’s Mom is portrayed is utterly disgusting, she IS her biological Mother and should be honored for her commitment and love to making her who she is and what she has become. I do not believe she used racial slurs or racial injustice in anyway. That just sounds stupid, like I just stole a diamond ring and I show it to everyone.
5) My Brother was lucky enough to get an advance copy of the book in June. He sent it to me and the last chapter was about Uncle Robs Funeral. The whole chapter was so much fiction that I was obligated to send Sarah a FB message. I told her that I don’t give permission for my name or likeness to be included in her book and that she was not even there for the events she “claimed” occurred. She sent me back a message that she would delete that chapter immediately. Now if you have honest conviction and the truth in your memoir why wouldn’t you just leave it in or come back at me to justify the contents?
I think that if Sarah did her homework, questioned family members and put some more research in the book she could have had the tools to understand her upbringing on a different level. Sarah still has the right to question the reason and why but I think she would of had better knowledge to make the book totally true to herself.
dnf
June 4, 2019DNF because of way too much backstory in the beginning that needed considerable editing. Just couldn't get into this.
August 28, 2019
A very selfish young woman without much insight.
April 8, 2019
I am sure this will be the talked about memoir of the 2019. When I Was White is an incredibly nuanced, perceptive and deeply thought out account of growing up being denied one's identity. At the age of 27 the author has had her lifelong suspicions confirmed: her biological father had been a black man. This fact has remained a well guarded secret in her family. Having grown up in a white family and passing for white all her life until then Valentine now embarks on the process of discovering who she is and where she belongs. As a brilliant scholar of literature and a translator, she knows how to write well. This book is a pleasure to read. The nuance, the depth of her analysis is astounding. I was deeply moved and at the same time I felt very privileged to be part of her personal journey in which she uncovers countless details, experiences, bias, assumptions that our society cultivates. She has now successfully reformatted herself and became a new self, even changing her name, but it was and continues to be a painful, anxious process and we as participants to the author's trials can recognize with many of her experiences. The book is well planned, at times it reads like a hard to put down suspense novel, at times more like a scholarly analysis but it is never dry and always interesting and rewarding. This is my number one non fiction book of 2019 so far. Highly recommended to persons of all colours.
Thank you NetGalley for the reader's copy of Sarah Valentine's book.
The painting featured in Sarah Valentine's memoir by Valentin Aleksandrovich Serov The Rape of Europa. 1910 can be examined at Tretyakov Gallery in Moscow or on its website.
https://www.tretyakovgallery.ru/en/co...
Thank you NetGalley for the reader's copy of Sarah Valentine's book.
The painting featured in Sarah Valentine's memoir by Valentin Aleksandrovich Serov The Rape of Europa. 1910 can be examined at Tretyakov Gallery in Moscow or on its website.
https://www.tretyakovgallery.ru/en/co...
June 18, 2020
I can’t imagine finding out at age 27 that I am mixed race. Between Sarah’s mom’s behavior, the “coming out as black” party, and Sarah ignoring all signs that she was in fact not 100% white, I am drained. Like come onnnnn, Sarah’s mom use to iron her hair to get it straight!
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
July 24, 2019
I am giving this book 3 stars. If it weren't a memoir, it would get 2, but I always like to take into consideration why the book was written and the fact that it just plain takes a whole lot of guts to lay your life out there. For that, you get a star. And wow! Ms. Valentine sure has a life to lay out there. Raised as a 100% white woman, at age 27 (yes, 27) she finds out that she is in fact biracial and that her biological father is black, actual origins unknown, and supposedly a rapist. Which leads to my first question: why does she obsess so much about wanting to meet and get to know him? Maybe his family or about his background, but him as a person? No thank you. I spent a good portion of the book trying to figure out why Ms. Valentine didn't confront her parents earlier than age 27, especially when she spent way too much time during the course of the book pointing out events that indicated that there was something amiss. In fact, a lot of time in this book is spent on events that could have easily been edited out and made for a better book. However, again this is where the idea of it being a memoir comes in to play. If this book is for Ms. Valentine's benefit, then it should include whatever she wants. It could include a list of the jelly used on her daily sandwich for lunch. But, when offered to the public to read, the focus changes a bit. (Maybe this is why I expect never to write a memoir?) Through most of the book I sympathized with Ms. Valentine. Yet, in my very subjective opinion, I thought her outrage should have been focused on having been lied to and not about her actual parentage. Instead, she starts to get upset about the institutionalized racism around her. I was a bit upset that she hadn't been concerned about it before. But I guess now it is her problem? Second, I felt like her viewing of the world through her new lens was a bit over the top. No, I did not text a black friend last night and ask her if, when she walks in a room she notices and counts every single other black person. This seems unnatural. Is Ms. Valentine doing this because she is becoming more aware? This connection is not made. Instead it seemed another part of being outraged at her parentage. Misplaced anger. This anger caused other issues to arise that made me scratch my head. Ms. Valentine assumed that someone wondered why she studied Soviet literature if she wasn't born there because she was black. I don't understand this. Maybe they wondered why she studied Soviet literature period. I studied Russian in college and was frequently asked why. I am not Russian. I am not black. I was someone interested in learning a foreign language and tired of French. To assume the question was racially motivated was going a bit too far. In the context of this been recognized as Ms. Valentine becoming overwhelmed with her racial revelation, it would have made sense. But that connection is never made. Several connections are never made. So I will chalk this memoir up as a way for Ms. Valentine to write down her feelings and impressions but not as a document for outsiders to read for a greater understanding of the issues.
Thank you to NetGalley and St. Martin's Press for a copy of the book. This review is my own opinion.
Thank you to NetGalley and St. Martin's Press for a copy of the book. This review is my own opinion.
October 17, 2019
Library Biography #47
3.5 stars, I rounded up because I disagree with many of the other reviewers.
RANT: Some of the previous reviewers of this book were quite harsh on the author and I found that quite upsetting. Here is a woman writing about how her mother never let her embrace her full identity and people have the nerve to get on Goodreads and comment "I can't believe she didn't know she was black until she was 27!" or "The author is pretty selfish." Seriously people? The author does admit at one point, she felt that she knew deep down inside - what more do you want? I read two other accounts within the last year that were close to this, Inheritance: A Memoir of Genealogy, Paternity, and Love and White Like Her: My Family's Story of Race and Racial Passing about unknown ethnic/race identity and never saw one nasty comment about the authors - yet here is a woman who was denied the opportunity to acknowledge who she was, and because it was more obvious people feel the need to be nasty. Please, grow up. END RANT
Okay. About the book.
As mentioned, Sarah Valentine grew up not knowing that her biological father was African American. Her family was conditioned to repeatedly remind people that Valentine received her darker complexion from her Italian ancestors. Honestly, it seemed there was a myriad of reasons that her mother came up with to be repeated as excuses to why Valentine looked "different." I can quite understand the type of community that Valentine grew up in, I grew up in a similar small city in Western New York. It actually makes sense to me why her mother was apt to cover up the truth - she probably felt she was protecting her.
As far as the text and the writing, I did feel that the author could be a bit choppy (she explains that a High School teacher had students chop up paragraphs to rearrange, maybe this happened while writing this book) and also gave the reader unimportant details at time. Sometimes I didn't quite understand why she included memories that she did - I felt a bit left down because she appears to be an esteemed professor, I figured that her writing would have been more cohesive. Yet I got to one point, on page 220 where Valentine begins to talk about racial identity. Once I read about the theory behind biracial identity formation, I started to understand a bit more about her book. She's explaining the six stages - neutrality, acceptance, awareness, experimentation, transition and recognition. Looking back, I feel like she could have constructed the book based on these stages and she would have likely been better understood by the reader.
Worth reading - and unfortunately still relevant this day and age.
3.5 stars, I rounded up because I disagree with many of the other reviewers.
RANT: Some of the previous reviewers of this book were quite harsh on the author and I found that quite upsetting. Here is a woman writing about how her mother never let her embrace her full identity and people have the nerve to get on Goodreads and comment "I can't believe she didn't know she was black until she was 27!" or "The author is pretty selfish." Seriously people? The author does admit at one point, she felt that she knew deep down inside - what more do you want? I read two other accounts within the last year that were close to this, Inheritance: A Memoir of Genealogy, Paternity, and Love and White Like Her: My Family's Story of Race and Racial Passing about unknown ethnic/race identity and never saw one nasty comment about the authors - yet here is a woman who was denied the opportunity to acknowledge who she was, and because it was more obvious people feel the need to be nasty. Please, grow up. END RANT
Okay. About the book.
As mentioned, Sarah Valentine grew up not knowing that her biological father was African American. Her family was conditioned to repeatedly remind people that Valentine received her darker complexion from her Italian ancestors. Honestly, it seemed there was a myriad of reasons that her mother came up with to be repeated as excuses to why Valentine looked "different." I can quite understand the type of community that Valentine grew up in, I grew up in a similar small city in Western New York. It actually makes sense to me why her mother was apt to cover up the truth - she probably felt she was protecting her.
As far as the text and the writing, I did feel that the author could be a bit choppy (she explains that a High School teacher had students chop up paragraphs to rearrange, maybe this happened while writing this book) and also gave the reader unimportant details at time. Sometimes I didn't quite understand why she included memories that she did - I felt a bit left down because she appears to be an esteemed professor, I figured that her writing would have been more cohesive. Yet I got to one point, on page 220 where Valentine begins to talk about racial identity. Once I read about the theory behind biracial identity formation, I started to understand a bit more about her book. She's explaining the six stages - neutrality, acceptance, awareness, experimentation, transition and recognition. Looking back, I feel like she could have constructed the book based on these stages and she would have likely been better understood by the reader.
Worth reading - and unfortunately still relevant this day and age.
December 9, 2019
This memoir is fascinating to me. I have not experienced this myself but certainly have friends with biracial children or who are biracial themselves and have seen how that has affected them. I've always been interested in the questions surrounding why race is even an issue in the world, children don't make it an issue. They simply use it to describe each other the way one would use height or hair length or glasses or not to identify a friend to another person. But it has no additional implication expect as we age because it is a learned concept within society. So I can completely understand how a girl, who is shown nothing but love and support from her two white parents would assume that she is also white. Why wouldn’t she? Would a child question why their parents have one color hair or eyes and they have another? No. They accept that they are loved and cared for. I definitely think that the harder aspect of this memoir is the author’s experience of feeling lied to throughout her young life because of the information withheld from her about her natural father. I can empathize with her but also with her mother in this because no one knows the "right" thing to do in that situation and so they hopefully do their best. People aren't perfect and this certainly would be a difficult situation. Its really a fascinating reality though to suddenly have a different ethnicity than you believed you had and it made you feel differently about yourself or your background at first. It would be a lot to wrap you head around but like living both sides of a coin, seeing the truth of racial injustice and the good and the bad in people. But already knowing both sides. What insight it would give you. This actually will likely turn out to be a tremendous gift. With her ability as a writer, I see this author going far in advancing the dialogue of race relations for the better. And more power to her.
I highly recommend this book to anyone interested in a personal account of race in America. Well done.
#WhenIWasWhite #Netgalley #StMartinsPress #SarahValentine
I highly recommend this book to anyone interested in a personal account of race in America. Well done.
#WhenIWasWhite #Netgalley #StMartinsPress #SarahValentine
December 29, 2019
One of the questions I am left asking after reading Sarah Valentine's memoir, When I Was White, is this: what does it mean for someone to pass accidentally? Is accidental passing even possible? Must one possess some degree of awareness of what one is doing, to pass? If what Valentine experienced (believing she was white and not biracial for most of her life) is not passing, then what is it?
Valentine leaves this question unanswered, gravitating toward ambiguity over transparency. This is not to suggest that When I Was White is an inscrutable book. On the contrary, Valentine's more significant point is that racial identity and biological history are, to some degree, impossible questions to answer even as race "clings to people of color like a magnet to iron" (163).
Throughout When I Was White, Valentine makes what would otherwise be impenetrable academic concepts clear, readable, and understandable. This is undoubtedly one of my favorite aspects of When I Was White. Because Valentine attempts to understand complex ideas and terms, she pushes the memoir into interesting and unexpected territory.
Valentine leaves this question unanswered, gravitating toward ambiguity over transparency. This is not to suggest that When I Was White is an inscrutable book. On the contrary, Valentine's more significant point is that racial identity and biological history are, to some degree, impossible questions to answer even as race "clings to people of color like a magnet to iron" (163).
Throughout When I Was White, Valentine makes what would otherwise be impenetrable academic concepts clear, readable, and understandable. This is undoubtedly one of my favorite aspects of When I Was White. Because Valentine attempts to understand complex ideas and terms, she pushes the memoir into interesting and unexpected territory.
February 3, 2020
I wanted to find interest in this book and the author's story and journey but this book was tedious to read and I found myself having a mental conversation with the author in which I was screaming, "you have a loving mother and father who adored you from the time that you were born. Let that love suffice and stop badgering your mother for details on a father that you never knew". She becomes obsessed with finding her biological father to a degree that i found painful. She put herself through so much turmoil simply because she found out she was biracial rather than 100% white. Her extreme dilemma was one that I feel was created and exacerbated to the nth degree by her.
September 15, 2019
Review can also be found on my blog here: https://booksonthebookshelf.wordpress...
......
This novel was a compelling story that was interesting to read about the experiences of young Sarah Valentine as she grew into a woman and discovered her identity. Through all the trials and tribulations, and in the face of adversity, this novel grabs the readers attention as you flip the pages and learn more about the many obstacles and feelings Sarah herself went through on this incredible journey of self-discovery.
Imagine growing up thinking you were white and finding out your father was a black man. That you in face were not white, but mixed race. Would you do everything you could to find out about your true parentage, which race would you identify with?
I enjoyed reading this memoir from beginning to end, and I am sure you will too.
......
This novel was a compelling story that was interesting to read about the experiences of young Sarah Valentine as she grew into a woman and discovered her identity. Through all the trials and tribulations, and in the face of adversity, this novel grabs the readers attention as you flip the pages and learn more about the many obstacles and feelings Sarah herself went through on this incredible journey of self-discovery.
Imagine growing up thinking you were white and finding out your father was a black man. That you in face were not white, but mixed race. Would you do everything you could to find out about your true parentage, which race would you identify with?
I enjoyed reading this memoir from beginning to end, and I am sure you will too.
August 4, 2019
“When I Was White” is a memoir of a young woman growing up questioning herself, her identity, her family, and her personal experiences related to racial
ambiguity. I always commend authors for telling and sharing their own personal stories, though it may be emotional and hard for them to do, and I especially welcome and appreciate lessons and insight that their stories provide. I cannot relate personally to what the author has experienced, but she was able to fully demonstrate her uncertainty, her frustrations, her doubt, and her pain in a way that touched my heart and gave me a glimpse of what it must have been like for her.
ambiguity. I always commend authors for telling and sharing their own personal stories, though it may be emotional and hard for them to do, and I especially welcome and appreciate lessons and insight that their stories provide. I cannot relate personally to what the author has experienced, but she was able to fully demonstrate her uncertainty, her frustrations, her doubt, and her pain in a way that touched my heart and gave me a glimpse of what it must have been like for her.
August 31, 2025
(*Note: To those so shocked that “nobody said anything” and “she didn’t realize” you’re missing key realities about the multi racial experience. Identity doesn't have to be “out” and verbally identified to be experienced and thus become a factor in own’s existence. Anthony Lennon case in point. That’s why even long before she found out the full picture she’d already been living the truth of her complete racial identity. There are many people walking around who don’t look like the race on their respective birth certificates. Regardless of their DNA their experiences are being vetted and judged and those experiences and conflicts are real.
ANYONE be they Black, White , Asian that looks DEFINITELY like ONE race will never be able understand this. The “how could she not have known comments” are invariably coming from people who look definitively like one race. It’s why racially definitive looking people (including Black) who have never been othered or racially vetted need to not write about and take ownership of the multi racial experience (looking at you Yaba Blay). It all leads back to the vile disgusting One Drop rule for many online racial identity bullies. A case in point is an Italian blogger I saw on you tube with extremely curly corkscrew Southern Italian hair. She said her hair had been an issue for others all her life. Her Italian mother was from a tiny village and was pictured with an Italian fro . Her DNA reveal showed zero African ancestry and Black you tubers were so angry, rude and disbelieving that she had to disable comments. People who don’t get racial vetted won’t get it. )
Sarah Valentine is a classic scholar Her academic history is not just impressive but unique. She was tenured I believe before her forties which is a huge achievement which she clearly more than deserved however she’s a mediocre, joyless memoirist with no concept of the narrative tradition who desperately needed a better editor for this. Again like Danzy Senna and Bliss Broyard the privileged East Coast multi racial experience is published and promoted (it’s alien to those of us from the Left Coast so therefore intriguing if not becoming a little tiring at this point as it’s the only multi racial narrative that seems to be being published...) however unlike Senna and Broyard , Valentine looks multi racial not fully white. That alone made the book worth checking out. Sadly key elements of the multi racial experience were left out and many narrative paths not taken.
Because she grows up in the 1980s and 90s and faced no violence, segregation, daily harassment or oppression it’s just not that big of a deal to warrant this kind of memoir nor is it a unique experience. Was she even called the N word to her face?
Yes, it is absolutely a travesty that her racial identity was kept a secret and yes she suffered casual racism but her sense of self was bolstered by a stable upper middle class family infrastructure and loving protective siblings which enabled her to reach heights in the academic industrial complex few will ever ascend to. Her racial appearance and complex racial identity didn’t derail her life as it has for so many. She also had no revulsion towards Blackness or Black people at an early age in a VERY racist area! Somebody did a great job raising her and she also seems like she grew into a great human being by her own volition.In high school she was an athlete, scholar and very very well adjusted. Yes her racial identity was unfairly kept from her by an Italian American East Coast mother who was a megalomaniac yet she did not face oppression, violence or huge amounts of fear and self hatred despite being an outlier to some.
Valentine is a scholar of Russian language and culture who tells us almost NOTHING (literally a few sentences) about studying and living in Russia!! THAT would have been a one of a kind. Also there is also (unsurprisingly) zero exploration of the Italian American multi racial experience. I assume a part two is coming and then we get to meet the father? Ultimately her mother has truly apologize and come clean. Do not feel sorry for the mom readers...not in this case!
ANYONE be they Black, White , Asian that looks DEFINITELY like ONE race will never be able understand this. The “how could she not have known comments” are invariably coming from people who look definitively like one race. It’s why racially definitive looking people (including Black) who have never been othered or racially vetted need to not write about and take ownership of the multi racial experience (looking at you Yaba Blay). It all leads back to the vile disgusting One Drop rule for many online racial identity bullies. A case in point is an Italian blogger I saw on you tube with extremely curly corkscrew Southern Italian hair. She said her hair had been an issue for others all her life. Her Italian mother was from a tiny village and was pictured with an Italian fro . Her DNA reveal showed zero African ancestry and Black you tubers were so angry, rude and disbelieving that she had to disable comments. People who don’t get racial vetted won’t get it. )
Sarah Valentine is a classic scholar Her academic history is not just impressive but unique. She was tenured I believe before her forties which is a huge achievement which she clearly more than deserved however she’s a mediocre, joyless memoirist with no concept of the narrative tradition who desperately needed a better editor for this. Again like Danzy Senna and Bliss Broyard the privileged East Coast multi racial experience is published and promoted (it’s alien to those of us from the Left Coast so therefore intriguing if not becoming a little tiring at this point as it’s the only multi racial narrative that seems to be being published...) however unlike Senna and Broyard , Valentine looks multi racial not fully white. That alone made the book worth checking out. Sadly key elements of the multi racial experience were left out and many narrative paths not taken.
Because she grows up in the 1980s and 90s and faced no violence, segregation, daily harassment or oppression it’s just not that big of a deal to warrant this kind of memoir nor is it a unique experience. Was she even called the N word to her face?
Yes, it is absolutely a travesty that her racial identity was kept a secret and yes she suffered casual racism but her sense of self was bolstered by a stable upper middle class family infrastructure and loving protective siblings which enabled her to reach heights in the academic industrial complex few will ever ascend to. Her racial appearance and complex racial identity didn’t derail her life as it has for so many. She also had no revulsion towards Blackness or Black people at an early age in a VERY racist area! Somebody did a great job raising her and she also seems like she grew into a great human being by her own volition.In high school she was an athlete, scholar and very very well adjusted. Yes her racial identity was unfairly kept from her by an Italian American East Coast mother who was a megalomaniac yet she did not face oppression, violence or huge amounts of fear and self hatred despite being an outlier to some.
Valentine is a scholar of Russian language and culture who tells us almost NOTHING (literally a few sentences) about studying and living in Russia!! THAT would have been a one of a kind. Also there is also (unsurprisingly) zero exploration of the Italian American multi racial experience. I assume a part two is coming and then we get to meet the father? Ultimately her mother has truly apologize and come clean. Do not feel sorry for the mom readers...not in this case!
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
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August 12, 2020Blame my international upbringing, but racism has simply never made sense to me. It’s such a hot topic issue these days so I keep trying to read books on the subject to give me a new perspective, but I haven’t been able to shake the belief that color is color, but cultures are different and that’s what makes the world so interesting.
When I finished this book, I was still really confused. Memoirs are often like that, though. The author sifts through her story and, because it is a life that still goes on, it isn’t tied up neatly. There is still growing and learning to do. But mostly I was confused at how race became the core issue of this book. I feel like an identity crisis is to be had by anyone who, after 27 years, is faced with the knowledge that her father is not her father. The lies and secrets are the real issue here. They would have been just as devastating if her father were white (with the exception, I suppose, of her mother confiscating anything “too black” during the author’s childhood in a desperate attempt to conceal her race).
I’m just trying to wrap my mind around the idea of Black as a culture. Isn’t that a stereotype in itself? The assumption that black people should experience certain things and she missed out on them because her mother was too busy pretending she was white baffles me. Culture is what is created by the environment you are raised in. Whether you know your father’s race from birth or not, if you were never going to know your actual father, your culture is what your mother created for you. It is unfortunate that the secrecy and lies that shrouded the author’s childhood destroyed her connection with her mother and the culture she might have claimed had the truth always been known, but I’m still having a hard time reconciling this as a race issue.
But then, I’m also still scratching my head, trying to figure out how color and identity are somehow inexplicably tied. I guess I need to do some more reading.
When I finished this book, I was still really confused. Memoirs are often like that, though. The author sifts through her story and, because it is a life that still goes on, it isn’t tied up neatly. There is still growing and learning to do. But mostly I was confused at how race became the core issue of this book. I feel like an identity crisis is to be had by anyone who, after 27 years, is faced with the knowledge that her father is not her father. The lies and secrets are the real issue here. They would have been just as devastating if her father were white (with the exception, I suppose, of her mother confiscating anything “too black” during the author’s childhood in a desperate attempt to conceal her race).
I’m just trying to wrap my mind around the idea of Black as a culture. Isn’t that a stereotype in itself? The assumption that black people should experience certain things and she missed out on them because her mother was too busy pretending she was white baffles me. Culture is what is created by the environment you are raised in. Whether you know your father’s race from birth or not, if you were never going to know your actual father, your culture is what your mother created for you. It is unfortunate that the secrecy and lies that shrouded the author’s childhood destroyed her connection with her mother and the culture she might have claimed had the truth always been known, but I’m still having a hard time reconciling this as a race issue.
But then, I’m also still scratching my head, trying to figure out how color and identity are somehow inexplicably tied. I guess I need to do some more reading.
July 12, 2019
Started this memoir with high hopes. Sorry. What should be an unforgettable story fell flat, and, for me, caring never kicked in. Not enough to continue, at any rate.
Full Disclosure: A review copy of this book was provided to me by St. Martin’s Press via NetGalley in exchange for an honest review. I would like to thank the publisher, the author and NetGalley for providing me this opportunity. All opinions expressed herein are my own.
Full Disclosure: A review copy of this book was provided to me by St. Martin’s Press via NetGalley in exchange for an honest review. I would like to thank the publisher, the author and NetGalley for providing me this opportunity. All opinions expressed herein are my own.
December 27, 2019
When you begin reading this memoir it's best to remember that the author is retelling her journey AFTER fully identifying as a biracial individual. This is important because even I felt animosity towards the book when it explained being Black almost as a type of mystical power that you felt deep within yourself.
All things considered, I kept reading because I wanted to hear her journey, which is why I stayed engaged, but it was very challenging at times to read, in my opinion.
All things considered, I kept reading because I wanted to hear her journey, which is why I stayed engaged, but it was very challenging at times to read, in my opinion.
November 12, 2019
3.5 but bumping it up to 4. I’m trying to be sympathetic with the authors mother, but something isn’t right and her story of how Valentine came to be isn’t adding up. And the worst part we never find out if she finds her biological father. I have questions that need to be answered.
October 30, 2019
I appreciated hearing about Valentine's experiences. This is a very engaging read.
January 23, 2020
really glad she found a therapist
July 24, 2020
Poorly written
April 10, 2020
When I Was White follows Sarah Valentine's experience of discovering as an adult that her father was not her biological father, and that she was in fact biracial. While she and everyone around her always knew (on an unacknowledged level) or at least suspected she was not white, she was still raised to believe that was her identity. Finally being told the truth shook her to the core and left her questioning who she was and why her family had chosen to never acknowledge it.
There were parts of this book that were riveting, and which gave great insight into how we form our identities, what role race plays in how we relate to the world at large, and how secrets affect families and relationships. However, there were also parts when I was left wondering why there were pages of description of hanging out in a diner with her high school friends, for instance, or other details and events unrelated to the meat of the book.
This is an interesting contrast read to Dani Shapiro's Inheritance, and one with a much more understandable (to me) outrage on the part of the author. It's complicated, though, because while everyone has a right to know who they are and where they come from, Valentine also expresses little to no empathy for her mother's possible assault. While it is impossible to know at this point whether Sarah's mother really was raped or not, it seems cruel to keep insisting she give more details, make her relive the night over and over, and even bring forth accusations that she's lying just to withhold information. Is that now an okay way to act toward proclaimed victims of sexual assault and I missed something? I see how her anger at having been lied to about something as fundamental as her race and origin could lead her to question the truth in everything else her mother has said, and her mom seems like a difficult person in many ways, but I probably wouldn't actually publish a memoir accusing my mom of having lied about rape just to jerk my chain. That's a pretty bold move on no evidence.
In summary: worth a read, brings up many things to consider and examine about ourselves and our world, but sometimes falls a bit short in terms of editing.
There were parts of this book that were riveting, and which gave great insight into how we form our identities, what role race plays in how we relate to the world at large, and how secrets affect families and relationships. However, there were also parts when I was left wondering why there were pages of description of hanging out in a diner with her high school friends, for instance, or other details and events unrelated to the meat of the book.
This is an interesting contrast read to Dani Shapiro's Inheritance, and one with a much more understandable (to me) outrage on the part of the author. It's complicated, though, because while everyone has a right to know who they are and where they come from, Valentine also expresses little to no empathy for her mother's possible assault. While it is impossible to know at this point whether Sarah's mother really was raped or not, it seems cruel to keep insisting she give more details, make her relive the night over and over, and even bring forth accusations that she's lying just to withhold information. Is that now an okay way to act toward proclaimed victims of sexual assault and I missed something? I see how her anger at having been lied to about something as fundamental as her race and origin could lead her to question the truth in everything else her mother has said, and her mom seems like a difficult person in many ways, but I probably wouldn't actually publish a memoir accusing my mom of having lied about rape just to jerk my chain. That's a pretty bold move on no evidence.
In summary: worth a read, brings up many things to consider and examine about ourselves and our world, but sometimes falls a bit short in terms of editing.
June 14, 2020
Three stars because I think it takes a lot of courage to share your life in an autobiography or memoir, and I appreciate someone taking the time and effort to tell their story.
I think, though, this book could have used a good editor. The writing felt very academic, and a lot of the details and stories seemed unnecessary.
That said, a few passages felt very timely. On page 196, the author talks about their Black Graduate Caucus ceremony, the theme of which was "'Sankofa: Looking Back to Move Forward.' Sankofa is a Ghanaian term that translates as 'Go back and get it' and is the source of the proverb 'It is not wrong to go back for that which you have forgotten.' You can't know where you're going unless you know where you've been."
The author also talks about white privilege on page 218: "... She also knew that whiteness was the most fragile and insecure identity. 'Whiteness makes people hide,' she said during one of our sessions, 'because in confronting their privilege, they have a lot to lose.' She explained the concept of white privilege, how whiteness historically protected itself and the advantages it enjoyed from the encroachment of other races. She explained the perceived dangers of miscegenation that were deeply rooted in our society that at one time time in our history, people like me were illegal evidence of an illicit union."
Glad I got to read this, but I think it might have made a better magazine article or two.
I think, though, this book could have used a good editor. The writing felt very academic, and a lot of the details and stories seemed unnecessary.
That said, a few passages felt very timely. On page 196, the author talks about their Black Graduate Caucus ceremony, the theme of which was "'Sankofa: Looking Back to Move Forward.' Sankofa is a Ghanaian term that translates as 'Go back and get it' and is the source of the proverb 'It is not wrong to go back for that which you have forgotten.' You can't know where you're going unless you know where you've been."
The author also talks about white privilege on page 218: "... She also knew that whiteness was the most fragile and insecure identity. 'Whiteness makes people hide,' she said during one of our sessions, 'because in confronting their privilege, they have a lot to lose.' She explained the concept of white privilege, how whiteness historically protected itself and the advantages it enjoyed from the encroachment of other races. She explained the perceived dangers of miscegenation that were deeply rooted in our society that at one time time in our history, people like me were illegal evidence of an illicit union."
Glad I got to read this, but I think it might have made a better magazine article or two.
August 2, 2019
When I Was White, by Sarah Valentine, is a provocative memoir of a woman whose life-long suspicions are confirmed when she finds out, at age 27, that she is biracial. The story of how she deals with the emotional upheaval of learning that some of her most basic “truths” were not real, and how she integrates her African-American identity into her being should have been compelling and heart-rendering. It was not. It lacks nuance and context in terms of perspective, compassion, and history. Sarah’s story is neither black nor white, it is blood-red with justifiable anger for having been lied to and denied her heritage. However, even years after the revelation, she shows no compassion for her mother who was subject to trauma of some sort or the father who raised and loved her. She acknowledges but is dismissive of the fact that she was raised in a loving family, where she has had every economic advantage, and has benefited from white privilege.
When I first started reading, I thought the author must have been born in the 1940’s, not 1977. There is no mention of the impact of the Civil Rights movement, the laws that followed or Title IX, which prohibited discrimination based on sex. There was a missed opportunity to talk about why these legal remedies might have been less than satisfactory, and how systemic racism is. We see evidence of it and individual hate every day in the news. Instead, the reader is bombarded with instances of slights Sarah assumes stem from racist perceptions of who she is. She may be right, but she never seems to ask or confront in an era where African American men and women are judges, deans, presidents of universities and in 2007, running for president.
Finally, we never learn the true story of Sarah’s conception. Sarah may never have learned the truth, or it might not have been her story to tell. As with many reconstructions of fact, it is often a cobbling of what some wish had happened, vague memories, and denial of reality. But I was troubled by her description of her biological father as “real,” and felt that the father that raised her deserved better.
The author deserves much credit for sharing her story, and her pain. I would not have been so courageous. Thanks so much to NetGalley and St. Martin’s Press for giving me an opportunity to read the electronic ARC in exchange for an honest review.
When I first started reading, I thought the author must have been born in the 1940’s, not 1977. There is no mention of the impact of the Civil Rights movement, the laws that followed or Title IX, which prohibited discrimination based on sex. There was a missed opportunity to talk about why these legal remedies might have been less than satisfactory, and how systemic racism is. We see evidence of it and individual hate every day in the news. Instead, the reader is bombarded with instances of slights Sarah assumes stem from racist perceptions of who she is. She may be right, but she never seems to ask or confront in an era where African American men and women are judges, deans, presidents of universities and in 2007, running for president.
Finally, we never learn the true story of Sarah’s conception. Sarah may never have learned the truth, or it might not have been her story to tell. As with many reconstructions of fact, it is often a cobbling of what some wish had happened, vague memories, and denial of reality. But I was troubled by her description of her biological father as “real,” and felt that the father that raised her deserved better.
The author deserves much credit for sharing her story, and her pain. I would not have been so courageous. Thanks so much to NetGalley and St. Martin’s Press for giving me an opportunity to read the electronic ARC in exchange for an honest review.
January 7, 2020
This book was well written and took you by the hand and guided you down the journey of identity. It was exciting and sad at times but most of all informative. I guess it was my way of understanding yet another part of the black experience that I don't feel like I had a good understanding of. In general I understand identity and how we come to that knowledge but this book challenged what I thought I knew. I have biracial folks in my family, but none of that was ever hit from them as far as I know. This book is about what happens when that happens. How the lies and betrayal can drive a serious wedge between families and the long-term harm that can result. I loved this book.
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