*Name has been changed to protect theperson's anonymity. All books mentioned in the article 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 Fellow Travelers now have access toBlack Children's and Young Adult literature that provides examples of healthy Black familial communities.
Part Two focuses on why so many Black ACA members indulged in literature during their childhood and teenage years and how modern Black Children's and YA Literature can help survivors’ revise their motivations behind reading. Part Two includes the story of Vonnie, a Black Fellow Traveler and avid reader, who shares how reading impacted her as a youth.
Part 2: Why Black Fellow Travelers Read During Our Youth
Our Complex History with Reading
Chapter 21 in The Loving Parent Guidebook explicitly addresses the importance of reclaiming our innate sense of joyfulness by reconnecting to our childhood interests. It offers five exercises similar to childhood activities. And reintroducing ourselves and our Inner Children to our favorite books is one of them. The exercise suggests ways to use youth-centered literature to cultivate a healthy Parent/Child relationship with our Inner Family, listing solutions such as planning a trip to the library and to pick out a book. This chapter notes that:
“For some of us, reading and homework bring up painful memories. If that's the case, get creative and find out what your inner child to make peace with the past. Maybe making peace with the past means not reading. Maybe after taking time to grieve these painful situations, you'll feel more peace with reading.”
I appreciated this advice because it sparked introspection regarding my history with reading and literature in general. You see, I love literature and I most definitely love reading it. Not only is storytelling an essential aspect of my personhood, it's a way of life. I've held this sentiment since childhood and it will never leave me as long as I have breath in my body. But I'd be lying if I told you that love alone was the reason why I started to begin reading. My history with reading and literature is convoluted due to its ties to the intergenerational abuse and community violence I survived.
I began reading because I wanted to be left alone. Besides enduring daily interpersonal violence, I was constantly bullied at school. There wasn't a day when I wasn't called ugly (or stupid, musty, or something that wasn't human) by groups of Black kids on the school bus and the playground when I had the nerve of minding my own fucking business. Even some of the teachers poked fun me in some way or another, which is one of the many reasons why I struggle with school-related PTSD.
The only time I felt any relief was when I held a book in my hand. I was around twelve when I met Ramona Quimby. I was in sixth grade at Iles Elementary School at the time. Every Friday afternoon, our teacher Mr. Tesh* led us downstairs to the school library to capture our only opportunity to check out books before the weekend. I was casually searching the bookshelves holding the vast collection of Young Adult (YA) novels when my gaze stumbled upon Beverly Cleary's YA classic Ramona Quimby, Age 8. I remembered the television series following the antics of the brown-headed girl on the book cover, only learning about the novels from watching the show's intro. My curiosity alone caused me to pull the book off the shelf and check it out, promising myself that I wouldn't read it until I got home.
When my younger brother Malik* and I reached our house, I immediately went into my room and yanked my borrowed copy of Ramona Quimby, Age 8 out of my backpack. As soon as I peeled back the cover, I was soon thrusted into the daily life of Ramona Quimby. She introduces me to her parents, Robert and Dorothy Quimby. Her cat Picky-Picky allows me to gently stroke his orange fur. My sides ache from laughter while Ramona dances on the last nerves owned by her older sister, Beatrice (a.k.a. Beezus).
When I finished the last chapter, I returned to my reality in Springfield, Illinois. I didn't have the words to fully capture my experience, but it was then that I began perceiving books as a literary passport that assured me endless access to alternate realities. Storytelling
has always been in my life, but this was the first time it became a gateway to "someplace else." At that moment, I became friends with words – words that didn’t ridicule me when I heard them tumble awkwardly out of my mouth.
All Grown Up Now, Fresh Perspective
Since becoming a member of Adult Children of Alcoholics Anonymous (ACA), though, my relationship with literature and reading have begun shifting. Gradually unpacking the Complex Childhood Trauma I endured throughout my first lifetime helped immensely. What's been significant to my healing around this issue, though, is reading Black Children's and YA literature for my own pleasure. It's because of this work that I believe that Black Children's and YA literature can encourage Black Fellow Travelers to reassess our history with reading and its attachment to our past trauma.
Because our ACA recovery is intersectional, it isn't difficult or uncommon for the Black Fellow Travelers who enjoyed reading as children to view certain oppressors outside of the home as the cause of their literature-related trauma. For some of us, it was the elementary school teacher who screamed at us when our neurodivergent brain caused us to mispronounce words when we read out loud. For those raised in the Black Christian community, perhaps influential church leaders warned practitioners against content that featured mythical creatures and witches. If or when it wasn't adult authority figures causing us literature-related trauma, then it was the long list of schoolyard bullies who wrongfully accused us of wanting to be White, as they've unknowingly associated Blackness with the inability and/or unwillingness to value self-education.
But for most of the Black Fellow Travelers who experienced literature-related trauma, the problems occurred within the individualistic familial community in which we were raised. In these types of households, the Black child's affinity towards literature is rarely appreciated
or even encouraged by our relatives. If anything, our consumption of literature (especially when excessive) would quickly become a subject of contention.
There are Black Fellow Travelers, for example, who were probably branded as lazy because hours of reading swept a designated chore out of our minds. Another group of us had a caregiver angrily accuse us of deliberately ignoring them when an engaging story plot absorbed our attention. A profound mixture of rage and anguish might resurface for the Black Fellow Travelers remembering an incident in which treasured graphic novels have either
been stolen, destroyed, or thrown away.
These are just a handful of disturbing events that reshaped our experiences as Black youth surviving in a familial community governed by dysfunction. Dysfunction concocted from the disdain for Black children and the joyfulness of Black youth.
The literature-related trauma we've sustained during our child and teenhood has followed many of us into adulthood. Leaving the matter unaddressed interferes with our willingness to resume the activity we cherished in our youth. However, reading Black Children's and YA literature can urge us to reexamine our complex relationship with literature. And included in the process of understanding and unpacking this relationship is realizing the motivations behind our compulsion to read.
The Motivation Behind Why We Read
There are Black Fellow Travelers currently in recovery who consider reading one of their beloved childhood activities. Many of us have reminisced about immersing ourselves in our favorite illustrated books and YA novels. We distinctly remember the days and times we visited the library and rushed towards the shelves that prioritized our preferred genres. Or when the Scholastic Book Fair visited our school and we managed to save up enough money to order the books we checked off in the catalog. Whenever book we had in our possession at the moment chewed up most of our time, leaving us unbothered about anything that was going on around us.
Vonnie*, a Fellow Traveler, was possibly described as this type of Black child by the relatives in her familial community. An avid reader since her youth, she remembers constantly visiting the local library in the rural South Georgia area in which she grew up. Now in her mid-forties, Vonnie reflects on her relationship with literature:
"I vividly remember reading‘choose-your-own-adventure’ books at age 7, starting with Edward Packard's The Cave of Time. Suddenly, I wasn't just a reader; I was the hero, charting mycourse through prehistoric perils...As a teenager, I devoured autobiographies like a lifeline. Lost in the swirling vortex of adolescence, I craved proof
that the emotional roller coaster wasn't a personal nightmare. These stories whispered, 'You're not alone,' and showed me that even through the worst turmoil, people emerged stronger, maybe a little bruised, but with a hell of a story to tell."
It’s noteworthy that Vonnie moved beyond reading the words on the pages; she integrated herself into the storyline. At age seven, she was the hero taking charge of her own perilous journey in the ancient eras of dinosaurs and cavemen. The habit of blending herself into the story lingered throughout her teen years. Yet instead of being the Hero confronting danger through the prehistoric period, Vonnie resonated with the personal tribulations experienced and resolved by Black historical figures.
Vonnie is among the Black Fellow Travelers who approached literature and the act of reading as a means to understand ourselves and the world through which we roam. To be honest, many of us consumed television during our youth mainly for that same reason. So why did so many Black Fellow Travelers seek out literature during childhood?
A Great Escape
Many of us Black Fellow Travelers have unforgettable memories of us disappearing into our favorite stories. In fact, we might even record some of these recollections whenever we're answering the Reflection Questions in The Loving Parent Guidebook. As we further investigate our Complex Childhood Trauma, however, we Black Fellow Travelers soon recognize that we didn't read purely for enjoyment. Literature, we realize, became one of the many coping mechanisms that shielded us from the oppression we survived in our own homes.
In her VeryWell Health article, "The Meaning of Escapism in Psychology," Ashley Olivine, Ph.D., MPH defines escapism as "the repeated use of an activity or behavior to distract the mind from reality or unpleasant emotions." Dr. Olivine further explains:
“People seek escapism to avoid pain ordiscomfort that occur as a normal part of life. It is also a survival tool for the mind to use to cope with traumatic situations or memories. While escapism is sometimes viewed as an unhealthy habit, it can be a helpful way of dealing with challenging problems, managing stress levels, and balancing emotions safely and in moderation.”
Numerous Black children and teens enduring interpersonal violence unleashed within their familial communities regard literature as a means of escapism. Every time they crack open a book they checked out of the school or local library, they immediately feel the comforting sense of relief from being pulled into the captivating worlds detailed in the books in their possession.
When engulfed in the imaginary narrative, this group of Black youth are granting themselves permission to disconnect from their family's unending toxicity. They are no longer the unwilling recipient or witness of consistent violent assaults. Instead, these Black youths are now the revered Heroes remembered for their strength and perseverance. Or, in some cases, the cunning Villains who are fully cognizant of their power and moves against their advisories with no remorse. Either way, these abused Black children and teens can imagine themselves living in a world in which they have agency and authority.
Asked about her high engagement with literature during her youth, Vonnie notes:
“To escape my daily life of emotional abuse from my grandfather, to fantasize about the family unit I constantly desired. Reading was also a source of comfort and companionship during difficult times during my childhood."
Due to using literature as a temporary escape route, there's the possibility of reading being associated with the interpersonal atrocities we endured throughout our youth. Mind you, this is coupled with other struggles such as poor mental health, distorted self-perception, and dealings with systemic oppression initiated by White supremacy. Furthermore, our relationship with reading will more likely shift over the years and not in a manner that is beneficial to the Black survivor (as was the case with Kier, a Biracial survivor in the United Kingdom). By the time we reach adulthood, our desire to read or engage in any sort of literature may be severely compromised or worse--nonexistent.
Our connection to reading and literature may have reached such a point when we first entered the Black ACA online recovery spaces. As we gradually sift through our childhood memories, however, we'll be encouraged to turn to hobbies and interests to reawaken the childlike innocence we unabashedly expressed in our younger years. For many of us, this is the opportunity to reclaim our love of literature as Chapter 21 in The Loving Parent Guidebook suggests. As adults living in ACA recovery, Black Fellow Travelers who once used books as a protective shield from the realities of Black family dysfunction now have the opportunity to reassess their relationship with reading.
Progress on the Path, But Still Work to Do
The reason why numerous Black Fellow Travelers read as children was to disengage from the dysfunctional family drama in which we were raised. Though literature offered temporary relief, we now associate this childhood interest with the interpersonal trauma we desperately wanted to escape from. Black Fellow Travelers who indulged in literature as children/teens can gradually rekindle our relationship with reading with the assistance of Black youth-centered literary works.
Speaking of Black youth-centered literature, another important step of this ritual is to relearn and internalize ways to engage with literature that is both healing and educational. This assignment not only involves the Black Fellow Traveler learning to become their own Loving Parent. Defining our relationship with literature also includes reconnecting to the physical child and teen we once were by using literature to reimagine/recreate a healthy familial community.
Next week for the last installment for the "Liberation" series, I’ll explore how Black youth-centered literature can serve as a blueprint that highlights healthy Black family structures to emulate for our Inner Children.
Next Week: BlackYouth-Centered Literature is the Blueprint