6 August 2015 ALL AMERICAN BOYS by Jason Reynolds and Brendan Kiely, Atheneum/Caitlyn Dlouhy, September 2015, 320p., ISBN: 978-1-4814-6333-1

“You’ll have to grow your hair

and watch what you wear

If you want them to go away.

Otherwise, stay out of sight

and be thankful that you are white.”

--Ani DiFranco, “The Boys in Blue”

“To watch that video is to be witness to an execution. What kind of person takes another person’s life so cavalierly? How little must an officer think of the person at the other end of the barrel to shoot him in the head when, per the video, there appears to be no threat?”

--from “The Shooting of Samuel DuBose” by Charles M. Blow, The New York Times,  July 29, 2015

We so frequently see videos and news broadcasts about Black people in America being intimidated, beaten, shot, and murdered by cops, one after the other after the other. Even in groovy San Francisco, there was a recent scandal in which emails between white cops referred to black citizens as “monkeys,” “savages,” and “animals,” and joked about burning crosses. This stuff never seems to end.

“‘Shut up,’ he barked, coming closer.

‘Wait, wait, I--’

‘I said shut up!’ he roared, now rushing me, grabbing me by the arm. ‘Did you not hear me? You deaf or something?’ He led me toward the door while walkie-talkie-ing that he needed backup. Backup? For what? For who?

‘No, you don’t understand,’ I pleaded, unsure of what was happening. ‘I have money right here!’ With my free hand, I reached into my pocket to grab the dollar I had designated to pay for those stupid chips. But before I could even get my fingers on the money, the cop had me knotted up in a submission hold, my arms twisted behind me, pain searing up to my shoulders. He shoved me through the door and slammed me to the ground. Face-first. Hurt so bad the pain was a color--white, a crunching sound in my ear as bones in my nose cracked. After he slapped the cuffs on me, the metal cutting into my wrists, he yanked at my shirt and pants, searching me. I let out a wail, a sound that came from somewhere deep inside. One I had never made before, coming from a feeling I had never felt before.

My initial reaction to the terrible pain was to move. Not to try to escape, or resist, but just move. It’s like when you stub your toe. The first thing you do is throw yourself on the bed or jump around. It was that same reflex. I just needed to move to hopefully calm the pain. But moving wasn’t a good idea because every time I flipped and flapped on the pavement, with every natural jerk, the cuffs seemed to tighten, and worse, I caught another blow. A fist to the kidney. A knee in the back. A forearm to the back of the neck.

‘Oh, you wanna resist? You wanna resist?’ the cop kept saying, pounding me. He asked as if he expected me to answer. But I couldn’t. And if I could’ve, I would’ve told him that I didn’t want to resist. Plus, I was already in cuffs. I was already...stuck. The people on the street watching, their faint murmurs of ‘Leave him alone’ becoming white noise--they knew I didn’t want to resist. I really, really didn’t. I just wanted him to stop beating me.”

ALL AMERICAN BOYS is a powerful tale of racism and police brutality in America, told from the perspectives of two teens, Rashad who is black and Quinn who is white. Both are students at Springfield Central High School.

On his way to a Friday night party, Rashad Butler stops at Jerry’s Corner Mart to buy a bag of potato chips. When a woman accidentally trips over him in an aisle, dropping the bottle of beer she’s grabbed from the cooler, the store clerk assumes the worst. She’s a white woman in business attire and he’s a black teen with saggy jeans. Guess who’s automatically suspected of wrongdoing?

A cop happens to be in the store. Despite having done nothing wrong, and without a moment of discussion, Rashad is grabbed, cuffed, and beaten by the cop. He’s taken to the hospital with a broken nose, several fractured ribs, and life-threatening internal bleeding, charged with stealing, resisting arrest, and public nuisance.

On his way to the same Friday night party, Quinn Collins leaves his buddies Guzzo and Dwyer in the alley behind Jerry’s Corner Mart while he scouts around for someone of legal age to buy them beer. Walking around the corner, Quinn gets an unobstructed  view of Rashad being shoved out of the store, slammed to the ground, and mercilessly beaten. The cop doesn’t see Quinn, but Quinn sees the cop. It’s Guzzo’s big brother Paul, who is like family to Quinn.

What do you do if you are Quinn?

What makes ALL AMERICAN BOYS a particularly volatile and intense tale is that everybody knows everybody connected to the incident. But they don’t really know one another. Quinn and Guzzo are on the basketball team with black kids, one of whom is Rashad’s close friend English. Quinn and the other players have intense feelings and raw nerves in response to Rashad’s beating and hospitalization, but the coach expects them to “leave it at the door.” With a few notable exceptions, teachers also avoid discussing the issues. When an anonymous graffiti artist makes a statement by spray painting “RASHAD IS ABSENT AGAIN TODAY” across the foot of the school’s front stairs, the school administration makes things worse by searching only the black students’ lockers for cans of paint.

“If you are neutral in situations of injustice,

you have chosen the side of the oppressor.”

--Desmond Tutu, as quoted in ALL AMERICAN BOYS

Is what happened to Rashad Quinn’s problem? Quinn is torn between blindly supporting his oldest friend’s big brother, Paul, and acting according to his conscience. Should he notify the police about what he saw outside the market? As he hesitates, he’s confronted by a moral dilemma. Is he racist?

Meanwhile, another onlooker posts an iPhone video capturing the beating. It goes viral, leading to outrage and protests.

Most of us with a connection to young adult literature believe that a book can change a person and, in turn, change the world. Here is Exhibit A. ALL AMERICAN BOYS is a terrific story that will compel readers to consider who they are, what they stand for, and what they should stand for. It’s that good.

Richie Partington, MLIS

Richie's Pickshttp://richiespicks.pbworks.com

richiepartington@gmail.com