I expected something slightly different from this book, but that's because I didn't look through it properly before buying (it was an impulse purchase at the very beginning of my "oh damn there are books about the discrimination I'm facing??" phase and it's been on my TBR pile for a while now).
What I had expected were essays about people's everyday experiences with racism throughout their lives and how it impacts them today.
What it is is mostly letters from women of colour and non-binary people of colour to their younger selves, mainly between 13 and 16, telling them to stay strong and that they're not as repulsive as society makes them feel.
That's not to say it's a bad book, I just didn't profit from it at this time in my life. I would definitely give this to my future child, as I believe it can be incredibly powerful and uplifting if read at a young age, but for me personally, that glimmer of hope came a little too late. The damage of having zero representation or support growing up has already been done.
One essay that particularly resonated with me was Layale's "My Boyfriend Box: The Art of Breaking Up" where the author writes about how not to lose yourself in a relationship, especially as a woman of colour who has to navigate the power dynamics and potentially problematic situations and conversations with a white man.
When Leah Cowan mentioned the moment she realised that politics isn't some boring abstract thing but directly concerns us as marginalised people, I could relate to that.
I also liked Candace Lee Camacho's text "Find Your Superpower: You're the One and Only You", where she addresses white beauty standards and growing up with "unusual" body hair or afro curls in an environment of straight-haired blondes, and how this can lead to internalised racism and rejection of anything associated with your race.
Liv Little's text about sex education, pleasure, consent, and queer education is very important as well, just like Kuba Shand-Baptiste's essay about fatphobia, the journey to self love, and the danger of "well-meaning relatives".
On a literary level, it's not super eloquent or fancy because, from the way I understand it, it's ordinary people's submissions to an online magazine turned into a book.
But the idea of looking back at old diaries and notes from your teenage years to reflect on what kind of person you were back then, and confronting the pain you felt at the hands of a white supremacist society seemed cathartic and well-executed. It's basically also a love letter to the act of writing itself, as a coping mechanism to express difficult emotions, as a way of keeping memories, and even as a kind of time travelling tool. As Charlie Brinkhurst-Cuff - the best writer in this anthology in my opinion - puts it,
"One of the reasons why I kept a diary for so many years was so I didn't forget what it felt like to be a young person. I never wanted to feel derision for the emotions my younger self went through. My diary held my hand into the future: a literal book of words that shaped me and that I had shaped in turn."