Tragic truths

I just finished the previously-mentioned Black Like Me, an eye-opening account of the absurdity of racial hatred in our nation's recent history. In the late 1950s, John Howard Griffin, a white journalist from Texas, is haunted persistently by these questions:

"If a white man became a Negro in the Deep South, what adjustments would he have to make? What is it like to experience discrimination based on skin color, something over which one has no control?" 

He decides one night to embark on a seven-week journey that would answer those questions by medically altering his skin color and experiencing the discrimination firsthand. The book is a series of journal entries, beginning the night he decides to pursue this project and ending with the world's reaction to his published work. Griffin's strength as a journalist in documenting his experience lies in his observation skills and his commitment to include details that powerfully evoke these situations for the reader.

In an afterword, Griffin's biographer Robert Bonazzi explains:

The book's evocation of naked experience, of what is being done to the narrator rather than what he does, draws us toward the center, engages our emotions and all of our senses. We view scenes in vivid detail, hear precise tones in the dialogue and interior monologue, smell fear, and taste dread ...

The power of the book is rooted in the uncomfortable truth that many people who were impacted by it would not have listened to its revelations if they were not written by a white man. If he had not been a part of a privileged class and documented the respect and dignity he was freely given before changing only his appearance, his experience would have been written off.

The flaw of the book springs from the same place of its power. While Griffin as a black man relearns social conditioning to act according to societal expectations, and while he approaches each situation with the methodology of a sociologist, he never fully relinquishes his white perspective. There are passages that, though well-intended, come across sounding racially paternalistic. He also has the luxury of being able to escape the despair of the ghetto when it begins to close in on him by asking to stay with a friend in the white area of town.

That being said, the book is still one motivated by a rare sense of humanity and courage, given the time period. Despite its weaknesses, I will echo the back cover's recommendation that this "chillingly relevant eyewitness history is a work about race and humanity every American must read."