A Brief Word before We Begin . As I''m sure you''ve deduced from that whole "Inspired by the #1 New York Times bestseller How to Be an Antiracist " statement on the cover, this book is . inspired by the #1 New York Times bestseller How to Be an Antiracist , the paradigm-shifting memoir written by Dr. Ibram X. Kendi. And the inspired by is very important. Because this book is structured differently than its source of inspiration. Hence me, your beloved narrator, Nic Stone, including this pre -intro as a bit of a road map for the nonlinear journey you''re about to take through Dr.
Kendi''s life. Said journey is broken up into three parts (or acts , if we want to get all narratively fancy with it): INSIDE: Facing Yourself The concepts covered here--definitions, dueling consciousness, power, biology, behavior, Black, and White--are all about turning inward and are focused on examining the paradigms, aka foundational thoughts and ideas, that form our views of ourselves and other people. OUTSIDE: Facing the World Once we''ve done some self-examination and rejiggering, it''ll be time to turn outward and take a microscopic-level look into the ways that racism permeates the world we live in and intersects with other forms of people being awful to each other. We''re talking color, ethnicity, body, gender, orientation, class, culture, and space. UPSIDE DOWN: Flipping the World Over This is where we get about that action, boss. We''re moving from failure to success and digging into what I --Nic--call the Four C''s of Changemaking: cogency, compassion, creativity, and collaboration. We''ll also make sure we have a solid grip on the power of pushing forward in spite of obstacles. And I know that a lot of you readers feel like you''re ready to get out there and tear down the vile walls of racism, so, like, why not just jump to this section first, right? Well, you could , obviously .
But in my humble opinion, it would behoove you to read the other two sections first. Because as you, dear reader, will come to discover, being antiracist is more than a quick and easy decision you make. (And you don''t have to make it right now, by the way. Do yourself--and the world--a favor by reading the book first.) Being antiracist is . Well, I won''t spoil it. Just buckle up and get ready for the ride. BEGINNING IN THE MIDDLE: Your (Racist) Introduction The year is 2000, and you, Ibram X.
Kendi, are seventeen years old. You hate wearing suits. And ties. Hate it. Today, though, you''re in a suit and tie--black button-down, black slacks, golden-brown blazer, slick boots the color of the half-and-half you''ve seen adults pour into coffee, and the brightest, boldest tie you could find. You''re also standing somewhere you never expected to be, about to do something you never expected to do. It''s your senior year of high school, and you''re mere months from graduation. Getting there felt like a hard-fought battle with one arm tied behind your back.
So being here ? In this chapel with upward of three thousand people seated in rows that curve around the long, arched pulpit, all waiting to hear what YOU have to say? Flanked by two other Black high schoolers also dressed to the nines and waiting for their turns at the mic? Yeah, this feels real good. It''s the perfect cap to a series of events that turned your world--both outer and inner, your sense of yourself and your capabilities--completely upside down. True, your competitors in the final round of the Prince William County Martin Luther King Jr. Oratorical Contest are a lot (book) smarter than you are. They certainly get better grades than the ones that make up your sub-3.0 GPA. And their SAT scores are hundreds of points higher than yours. You barely cracked 1000 .
But you are here , just like they are. You won your high school oratorical competition, as you presume they did. You moved on to a countywide round, which they did as well. You were voted "best before the judge," which is how you wound up right here beside them on this makeshift stage. And the best part: Just like them, you''re headed to college. Now, this might not sound like a huge deal-- obviously , you''re eventually going to college, right? Your parents both went, and from what you''ve heard, that''s what all smart people do after graduating from high school. No-brainer. The truth is, though, for a while you didn''t feel very smart .
You''d dropped out of your IB English class because you couldn''t get your head around Shakespeare. There''s no way I''m smart enough for a university , you thought. But being on this stage isn''t the first time you''ve been proven wrong about yourself. And as you''ll soon come to discover, the fiery speech you''re about to give is only the beginning. The whole college thing had come as a huge surprise: A few weeks prior, you''d been minding your basketball business, running layup lines during a typical pre-home game warm-up session. Catch the pass, dribble forward, then gently leap and let the ball roll off your fingertips. Run to the opposite line and repeat. But then the gym door opened, and in strode your dear ol'' dad.
Six-foot-three and two hundred pounds. Waltzed right onto the court, long arms waving to get your attention. Your gut reaction: wide-eyed, breath-stopping embarrassment. As much as you love your pops, his blasé-blah attitude toward what you''ll eventually come to call the "White judge"--a personified name for the overwhelming sense that power-bearing White people are evaluating your every move . something Dad couldn''t care less about--really got under your skin back then. Prevent his true feelings from showing on his face? Nope. Keep his voice down? No way. Avoid making any sort of scene? Forget about it.
It scared you to have an African American father who lived by his own rules. It was the precise type of attitude that might''ve gotten him lynched in the past or shot down by a vigilante civilian or law enforcement official now. But at any rate, there he was. So you jogged over to meet him. He looked really geeked. Which was weird. When you reached him, he handed you an envelope. Told you to open it.
Like . right then and there at the half-court line before a game. With everybody watching. Including all the White people. Of course, you complied. It was an acceptance letter from Hampton University, one of the two colleges you''d applied to for the sole purpose of being able to say you''d tried. That acceptance letter flipped your worldview on its head. Despite the test scores and report cards, you were smart enough to go to college after all.
The other school you applied to, Florida A&M University, is the one you''ll wind up attending, so you clearly got in there too (though you don''t know that yet). Standing on that court in front of your dad, a number of faulty ideas faded from your mind. So did your sense of what you would later come to know as the "White gaze." With that letter in your hand, the stuff you believed about "intelligence" being proven by grades and test scores? It lost a bit of its validity. Granted, you''ve still got a lot of ideas to unlearn and replace. You''re not yet a reader, but you will be soon. And eventually, you''ll look back and see a number of things through a cleaner lens. But this moment on the basketball court is one you won''t forget.
It''s the moment you awaken to the idea of something . more. Now back to the MLK oratorical contest. You''re up first. And before you begin, you should know: You''ll come to recall the "speech" you''re about to give with . the opposite of pride. For now, though, you''re fired up. Ready to roll.
Primed and pumped to share what you think is an updated version of Dr. King''s dream. So you take your place, and you begin. "What would be Dr. King''s message for the millennium? "Let''s visualize an angry seventy-one-year-old Dr. King ." [It was joyous, our emancipation from enslavement . But .
] "Now, one hundred thirty-five years later, the Negro is still not free . "Our youth''s minds are still in captivity! "They* think it''s okay to be those who are most feared in our society! "They think it''s okay not to think! "They think it''s okay to climb the high tree of pregnancy! "They think it''s okay to confine their dreams to sports and music!" *They as in Black youth. (Applause, applause, and more applause.) "Their minds are being held captive, and our adults'' minds are right there beside them. "Because they somehow think that the cultural revolution that began on the day of my dream''s birth is over. "How can it be over when many times we are unsuccessful because we lack intestinal fortitude?" (Everybody claps.) "How can it be over when our kids leave their houses not knowing how to make themselves, only knowing how to not make themselves?" (Everybody claps.) "How can it be over if all of this is happening in our community?" And then .
with everyone at the edge of their seats, hanging on your every word, you drop your voice for the finale: "So I say to you, my friends, that even though this cultural revolution may never be over, "I still have a dream ."