All books mentioned in this essay are listed in the Bibliotherapy section.
"A Step Closer Towards Liberation" is a three-part series about how Black youth-centered literature could be a powerful healing tool for Black members of Adult Children of Alcoholics Anonymous (ACA). The series discusses the introduction of diverse representation of Black families in Black Children's and Young Adult (YA) literature, why so many Black survivors read during their youth, and how Black Travelers now have access to Black Children's and Young Adult literature that provides examples of healthy Black familial communities.
Part One introduces the concept of Black Children's and YA literature being a healing tool for Black Fellow Travelers who enjoyed reading as children--especially when coupled with the Afrocentric and ACA recovery models.
Part One: Black Children's and Youth Adult Literature Can Heal Us
It Started with a Rainbow
I want to tell you a story about a child who becomes a rainbow. The child’s name is Trinity. Trinity is a Black neurodivergent trans girl who lives in a house with her mother, father, and her three siblings. And in their house, being different and being beautiful are one and the same. Unconditional love and acceptance are the only languages this family speaks. Trinity knows she is cherished for all that she is, so she is happy.
One day, Trinity’s parent DeShanna notices the sad expression on the girl’s face. When DeShanna asks Trinity what is wrong, the child informs them that she doesn’t feel like a rainbow because she doesn’t have long hair. They are concerned for their daughter. They consider Trinity a masterpiece and only want their child to see herself as the work of art that she is. But how could they do that? DeShanna talks to their husband about Trinity and her wish for long hair, but he doesn’t know what to do either. The parents are talking about the matter at hand when their son Lucian peeks his head into the kitchen.
“We can get her a wig,” he suggests, much to the relief of his parents.
DeShanna and Lucian drive to the local beauty supply store. While there, Parent and Son comb through the selection of wigs hoping to find one suitable for their loved one. After an overwhelming search, Lucian points to an array of colorful hair extensions lined in neat rows behind the counter.
“Trinity needs her own rainbow!” he declared to DeShanna, the excitement for his little sister brightening his face.
And so DeShanna buys packaged bundles of dyed hair. That night, as their family sleeps, they transform every strand into a gorgeous rainbow wig that Trinity discovers early in the morning. The story ends with the young girl twirling around joyfully, admiring the curls her parent has woven from the colors of the rainbow. The rainbow she desires to be.
This heartwarming story is the premise of a book entitled My Rainbow written by DeShanna and Trinity Neal. The story is based on a real-life incident Trinity and her family experienced. Personal accounts around the realities of being Black and trans are normally written in memoirs. My Rainbow is neither a memoir nor any other form of Creative Non-Fiction. This literary gem is a children’s book.
Why Reading Black Youth-Based Literature is Fundemental
My Rainbow is one of the books I read to my Inner Children during Black History Month 2024. This year’s theme was “African Americans and the Arts,” which rightfully celebrated Black artists of all mediums who utilize their craft as a form of activism. Amongst these artists are Black authors who published literature that fosters the existence, cultural diversity, and overall wellbeing of Black youth. Authors such as Walter Dean Myers, Virginia Hamilton, and Patricia C. McKissack have published children’s books, Young Adult literature, and graphic novels for Black children and teens. These legendary authors have produced an impressive catalogue of work. Volumes of literature that bring attention to the ways systemic oppression gravely impacts the Black community for generations. Their writings also emphasize the importance of healing from historical and generational oppression as a community.
Added to the list of prominent storytellers is a new generation of Black writers who offer fresh perspectives on the realities and experiences of Black youth. Authors like Ronald L. Smith, Eden Royce, Leslie C. Youngblood, DeShanna and Trinity Neal, and Tony Weaver Jr. are among those who’ve introduced readers to diverse representations of Blackness. Because of this group, there are now picture books and YA novels brimming with compelling stories about Black youth who are LGBT+. About Black children with neurodiversity. About Black teens and children housed in bigger bodies. About Black youth who are impoverished. There are stories about Black nerds and Alternative Black youth. Stories about Black youth practicing Hoodoo and other kinds of majick. Their literary works are written from an intersectional lens and therefore reflect the richness of Black culture, history, and Blackness itself with breathtaking authenticity.
In an interview with Pride and Less Prejudice, a New Jersey based educational organization that provides LGBT-inclusive literature to schools, DeShanna Neal describes the jubilation Trinity expresses after finding the rainbow wig their parents has created for them the night before. When asked what message they’d want children and adults (parents, caregivers, teachers) to take away from My Rainbow. The author and parent of four replies:
“That all of our intersections—our colors—matter and make us the wonderful masterpieces we are.”
When Neal delivers this message to those who have read My Rainbow, it is the author’s way of encouraging them to recognize themselves as magnificent works of art. The message is mostly addressed to the children who’ve resonated with Trinity’s story, particularly those ranging from ages four to eight with intersections such as neurodivergence, developmental and/or cognitive challenges, and others labeled unacceptable by mainstream society’s guidelines. Unfortunately, this child demographic is often targeted for simply being born with a different type of brain chemistry or different body. They are bombarded with negative messages about attributes through the media and while navigating oppressive environments that are dehumanizing and, in some cases, life-threatening. But My Rainbow emphasizes for child readers the importance of embracing the entirety of who they are.
Another Demographic of Readers
Neal’s wisdom is geared towards youth readers. But there's another demographic of readers who would appreciate the words of empowerment embedded in My Rainbow: Black members of Adult Children of Alcoholics Anonymous (ACA). Black ACA members—better known as Black Fellow Travelers—are a collective of survivors dedicated to rekindling their relationship with their Inner Children while simultaneously working towards recovering from our traumatic childhood experiences. Like the other groups of Fellow Travelers, we’ve joined ACA to release ourselves from the life-altering consequences of growing up with a dysfunctional family. Yet unlike most of our counterparts (particularly the White ones), we automatically shoulder the added responsibility of healing from the fact that the complex intergenerational violence we’ve sustained and/or witnessed is linked our family’s internalized White supremacist ideologies.
Contending with the historical and generational consequences of White supremacy as a Black child was traumatizing enough. But then we Black Fellow Travelers/Bibliophiles had minimal exposure to literature with Black representation. In fact, much of the youth-centered picture books and novels we’ve had access to as children were not only written by While authors but literary works that feature only White characters. The lack of Black representation meant that we had no characters that we could resonate with or be inspired by, let alone stories that empowered us. But in 2024, we Black Fellow Travelers now have access to Black youth-centered literary works penned by Black authors who prioritize the empowerment and well-being of Black children. Meaning that we can now read the kind of stories we needed but weren’t available during our youth. In other words, Black children’s and YA literature can be a source of healing for Black members of ACA.
All Black people have been indoctrinated into White supremacy, a form of psychological terrorism that manipulates us into believing that Whiteness is the ideal status for us to strive towards. Since the inception of chattel slavery, the Black community has been subjected to dehumanizing assaults against our Blackness and Black identity. While there have been those who resisted these attacks by clinging onto aspects of African and Black culture and identity, there were many others who succumbed to the psychological pressures to pursue Whiteness and the privileges it breeds solely to preserve their survival. Internalized White supremacy has proceeded to plague the Black communities across the globe for centuries, creating generations of dysfunctional Black families suffering from influenced by form of racialized terrorism.
What follows is the dysfunctional familial community’s dehumanizing pursuit of an unobtainable way of life, which causes issues for those born with or into intersections that don’t align with unrealistic Eurocentric beauty standards. This places responsibility on the Black family members who are unwilling and/or unable to assimilate. Unfortunately, their intersections are weaponized against them. Even more disheartening is that these same family members are then coerced into perceiving their attributes and characteristics, as well as their entire personhood, is beyond unacceptable. The motivation behind these psychological assaults is the familial community’s desire to survive. And this desire tends to take precedence over the family members’ personal autonomy, freedom of self-expression, and personhood.
Unfortunately, Black children raised in dysfunctional familial communities are vulnerable to the demands to forfeit their Blackness and Black identity to assimilate into Whiteness. Their intersections, which summarize their entire identity as a human being, are severely scrutinized and condemned as being undesirable and therefore unworthy of protection. These Black children—especially dark-skinned Black girls, boys, those assigned female at birth (AFABs), and those assigned male at birth (AMABs)—are normally subjected to some form of intergenerational abuse at the hands of their relatives. We Black Fellow Travelers have been those children. The mistreatment we had received simply for owning certain characteristics and personality traits has caused us to develop a false personality to safeguard ourselves from further abuse.
A Semblance of Joy
Despite facing episodes of continuous trauma, we managed to find some semblance of joy through engaging in literature. Speaking of which, Black History Month isn’t the only reason why I’d read My Rainbow. It is around that period that I’d begin reading Black Children’s and YA literature for my own healing. My intersections, including my Blackness—have been transformed into ammunition by members of my dysfunctional familial community. But since the moment I’ve decided to introduce Black youth-centered literature into my recovery, I’ve been gradually unlearning the horrible lessons and embracing the elements of myself that sculpted me.
It's moments like this is why I strongly believe that reading Children’s and YA literature can be an integral part of the recovery journey of Black Fellow Travelers who’ve enjoyed reading as a youth. But for even the mere thought of introducing Black youth-centered literature to sound reasonable to Black Fellow Travelers, we must bring awareness to our adoption of the Afrocentric recovery model.
Black Youth-Centered Literature and Afrocentric Recovery
For Black Fellow Travelers to imagine themselves reading Children’s and YA literature as grown adults, we must take note of how we engage with the ACA program itself as Black survivors in recovery. Almost all the members of the African Diaspora have adopted the Afrocentric recovery model. In their statement titled “African American Recovery and Recovery Principles,” the Center for African American Recovery Development (CAARD) defines the Afrocentric recovery model as follows:
African American recovery is restorative, holistic, and preventive; it includes physical, mental, social, and spiritual growth. Recovery embraces values and traditions of African American culture, and it's communal and interconnected with our people. Recovery involves participating in family, neighborhood, community, and individualized healing that contributes to sustained health and wellness.
Based on the definition CAARD has provided, the purpose of the Afrocentric recovery model prioritizes the overall well-being of Black people and the Black experience. In addition to strongly emphasizing our natural desire for interconnectedness with other Black people, this model also highlights how those in recovery can merge elements of our rich history and culture we value into our recovery work. Most importantly, Black people in recovery are encouraged to address the social and political injustices that we encounter on a regular basis, as these very injustices are one of the issues that have led us to the rooms.
This recovery model is extremely helpful, as it grants Black Fellow Travelers the opportunity to navigate our childhood trauma through an intersectional lens. Meaning we use the principles of the ACA program and the model to thoroughly evaluate the unceasing abuse we’ve experienced as Black children. It leads us to understand how our Blackness and other characteristics we possess have been weaponized against us by relatives in our dysfunctional familial community. Whenever we disclose amongst ourselves the harrowing recollections of the interpersonal violence we’ve sustained and/or witnessed, we soon recognize the similarities between our experiences and those of our enslaved ancestors imprisoned on the plantation. Long story short, the Afrocentric model leads us to the conclusion that our distorted self-perception stems from toxic interactions with relatives whose actions are governed by internalized White supremacy passed down throughout generations.
The Afrocentric recovery model isn’t just reserved for the stories we share, but also extends to recovery literature we consume in and outside of the rooms. In ACA, literature is considered one of the cornerstones of the program. Aside from the Black-only meetings and consistent outreach, program-approved literature is another resource Black Fellow Travelers heavily depend upon to maintain our recovery. Within the safety of our online spaces, we collectively study and discuss ACA-approved literature such as A New Hope and The Loving Parent Guidebook. Each publication provides vital information outlining uncanny descriptions of unhealthy interactions and behaviors that unfolded within our dysfunctional familial communities. Also included are a variety of healing modalities and exercises such as guided meditations and playful activities that encourage necessary introspection, as well as fun.
Regarding non-program related literature, much of the literary content Black Fellow Travelers study outside the ACA rooms are non-fictional works explaining the complexities of intergenerational trauma. Books like Bessel Van Der Kolk’s The Body Keeps the Score and Complex PTSD by Pete Walker are listed amongst other trauma-centered content that are viewed as staples for the survivors wishing to understand the complexities of childhood trauma, as well as the variety of emotions entrapped within our bodies. Aside from that, non-fictional literature introduces detailed solutions to aid Black readers through the process of healing from generational and historical trauma in ways that are completely absent in the ACA literature provided.
Though the non-fictional literature we read is centered around intergenerational trauma deepens our understanding of ourselves and our Inner Children, such material also has their own set of limitations. In terms of the ACA-approved literature, the content printed on the pages read as heavily Eurocentric. Granted, many of the personal stories are relatable. The chapters accurately describe the unfortunate realities of surviving within a dysfunctional familial community. And the publications rightfully bring attention to the destructive survival mechanisms we develop to cope with the consequences of contending with our relatives’ abusive behavior.
In the minds of many Black Fellow Travelers actively studying the material, books like The Adult Children of Alcoholics Anonymous manual or “The Big Red Book” have been as monumental for their recovery as the inner communal bonding and weekly gatherings. Throughout the beautifully detailed chapters, however, information on racialized trauma ceases to exist. There is little or no mention of White supremacist ideologies and the generational and historical atrocities on which they are founded. The plethora of consequences the Black community suffered due to our exposure to this form of psychological terrorism is why Twelve-Step communities have been constructed. At the same time, the absence of information about racialized/cultural/systemic injustice and its overall impact on a marginalized person’s recovery is unsurprising. Twelve-Step programs such are predominantly White (ACA included), which is evident in the literature.
Due to combining the Afrocentric and ACA recovery models, we Black Fellow Travelers can make the ritual of decolonizing our bookshelves a part of our healing. Meaning that we can incorporate reading Black youth-centered literature into our daily lives. We can use the enriching storylines to understand the experiences and mindset of the physical child and teen we’ve once been. Perhaps the fictional or biographical accounts of the youth in the book resemble ours in some way, which then inspires us to be more compassionate toward ourselves and the younger version of us. But more importantly, this Black liberation-oriented approach to literature can reintroduce us to our childlike sense of empowerment.
Black Youth Empowerment and The Hate U Give
We infused Afrocentric recovery into our ACA program for a reason: to learn how to become our own Loving Parent while also navigating though/healing from the consequences of our family’s internalized White supremacist ideologies. But intertwined with this approach is the necessity to reconnect with our childlike sense of empowerment in a manner that encourages us to unconditionally love and honor our characteristics—our Blackness included.
Malik Windsor, author of the Center for Black Literature article titled “The Importance of Black Literature,” explains that Black literature is physical documentation preserving the richness and complexities Black history and details regarding the Black experience. He continues:
Black literature is instrumental in dismantling the barriers of inequality, discrimination, and stereotype. Stories written by Black authors are important for cultural representation…Black literature is genuine storytelling comprised of Black experiences, Black identities, and Black voices. Books authored by Black individuals are more likely to eschew biases and stereotypes. They are also less likely to exoticize Black bodies. Not only tales of Black struggle and racism, but Black literature also celebrates the wholeness of the Black experience.
The massive collection of Black Children’s books and YA novels penned by Black authors available to us in 2024 weren’t even thought of when we were growing up. We had no Black child and teen main characters to resonate with or whose actions from which to gather inspiration. If Black characters are present in the books we’ve read throughout our youth, their presence in the story is heavily dependent upon that of the White main character. On top of that, their personality traits and attributes are inundated with harmful racialized stereotypes that only further solidified themselves within our vulnerable psyches. And due to the unavailability of and lack of exposure to Black youth-centered literature created to empower children, we continue to indulge in stories that either repressed or completely erased us and the Black experience. And the absence of diverse Black representation took away our opportunity to empower ourselves by honoring our intersections.
But as Black adults who embody the values founded in Black liberation politics, we now abide by the Principles of Recovery for African Americans listed by CAARD to mend our relationship with our intersections. Choosing from the plethora of Black Children’s books and YA novels written by Black authors, we now have access to compelling storylines featuring relatable child and teen main characters whose actions illustrate personal and sociopolitical empowerment.
The New York bestselling YA novel The Hate U Give by Angie Thomas, for instance, follows the story of Starr Carter, a 16-year-old Black teen from a working-class neighborhood who attends a predominantly White high school. Her life takes a devastating shift when she witnesses a White police officer shoot and fatally wound her friend Khalil, a Black male teen who offers to drive Starr home from a house party. When the national media reports Khalil’s death, the young man is portrayed as a gang member and drug dealer. The media’s character assassination of her friend and crush, coupled with the court’s acquittal of the cop who gunned Khalil down remorselessly, Starr decides to take matters into her own hands and become an activist against police brutality and corruption.
Based on Windsor’s assessment of Black literature, The Hate U Give brings attention to the realities of police brutality and the senseless murdering of Black people (mainly dark-skinned Black men housed in bigger bodies) at the hands of corrupt police officers. Thomas’s book also rightfully calls out the mainstream media for its practice of racially stereotyping Black victims, as well as portraying agents of the state as blameless heroes who were protecting themselves from the dangers of Blackness. The riots and protests that erupted from the social outrage over the fact that yet another Black soul taken is a realistic depiction of how Black people normally react to racialized injustice.
At the same time, Black Fellow Travelers who read The Hate U Give could possibly resonate with Starr Carter and her courage to fight injustice. Aside from witnessing her close friend die unnecessarily at the hands of a racist cop, she watches the court let this state agent escape accountability. Despite the massive amount of grief swirling within her, Starr gathers up the strength required to actively protest the injustice that snatches her friend from this world.
I can imagine Starr’s powerful narrative landing with ACA members who’ve experienced a situation like that of the main protagonist during their youth. For example, a Black Fellow Traveler may share Starr’s internal struggles around her intersections. Starr is a Black teen girl who lives in an impoverished neighborhood, but attends a prep school heavily populated with affluent White students. Like many other Black girls in her position, Black survivors whose suffered from economic disparity, while also contending with racialized gender-oriented stereotypes in a predominantly White environment, can be inspired by the ways Starr is able overcome her discomfort around her Blackness and her financial circumstances.
Another significant factor in The Hate U Give that needs to be emphasized is the presence and strength of the familial community. Starr is subjected to personal attacks from riot cops and faces racism at her predominantly White school. However, she is only able to persevere and continue to amplify her voice as an injustice advocate because of the support she receives from her family and friends. Familial communities that are founded on collectivism are paramount for the overall development and well-being of Black youth. Open and honest communication about difficult topics such as the violent death of a loved one (biological or chosen) is needed. This demonstrates for Black children that discussions about such matters are a normal part of life and nothing to be afraid of. Most importantly, consistent communication establishes a foundation of trust between the Black child and members of their familial community.
The collectivist familial community that gathers around the main protagonist can also act as a blueprint for Black Fellow Travelers searching for examples of this type of support model (I’ll be elaborating more on Black youth-centered literature being blueprints in Part 3 of this series). Thomas’s novel could be beneficial for ACA members who’ve witnessed a loved one’s death at the hands of law enforcement or has been victimized by law enforcement as a youth. They may have wanted to voice their grief and terror to the emotionally unavailable/stunted relatives surrounding them but weren’t allowed to for whatever reason. Perhaps while reading The Hate U Give, the Black Fellow Traveler will be inspired to finally share their own personal accounts amongst other ACA members that will offer an abundance of support.
Some Questions Black ACA Members to Consider
Black Children’s and YA novels can act as a profound source of healing for the Black Fellow Travelers who enjoyed reading. As children, we didn’t have access to stories that praised the intersections we possessed or revolved around Black youth main characters with whom we could relate. But now we have access to titles such as My Rainbow, The Hate U Give, Precious and the Boo Hag, and many others that tell the stories of Black children and teens who love themselves. Black youth who recognize their Inner Divinity and the beauty of their personhood. The healing properties of these stories can only be enhanced through the Afrocentric recovery model we’ve infused into our work in ACA.
Granted, Black youth-based literature could potentially strengthen our recovery. But there are some questions that ACA members may have: How can stories written about and for children resonate with us as adults? Or relate to our adult experiences? If doing this for our recovery, how would reading children’s books and YA novels be any different from reading ACA-approved material—especially regarding reparenting ourselves? Answering these questions requires reflection on what motivated us to become bibliophiles at a young age.
Next week, we'll discuss how Black Fellow Travelers must reexamine their relationship with literature.
