I flipped the crisp, barely touched page that lay within the strikingly eloquent, raw personal narrative by Ta-Nehisi Coates. The pages of Between the World and Me were heavy from the weight of the paper and the words of truth sprawled upon the fibers. From the looks of the pages and the integrity of the spine, it would seem the personal narrative had been untouched. I flipped to the back cover. The local library had inherited this piece of literature in 2015. For five years this book sat on the shelves, and it shows no wear. For five years this book has been silent, quiet, waiting for the day the world would know it needed to be read. Sitting on my nightstand to my right is a fluff novel from the same local library. This book has only been on the shelves two years and is tattered and worn. The pages of this book are thin and soft, the spine opens with ease due to the many readings that have come before me. I wonder as I look at the differences in wear why it has taken so long for the world to decide to seek out the stories and the voices of black men and women. 

One would be hard pressed to find an available copy of Between the World and Me currently. In fact, titles like White Fragility, How to be an Antiracist, and Me and White Supremacy all read “temporarily out of stock” or “backordered” on most websites. Of course, e-book formats are available for those owning devices, but there is a huge push to buy physical copies of resources from black-owned bookstores, local if possible. I was scrolling through social media when I happened upon a Time article that began with “Several Antiracist Books Are Selling Out.” I get nerdy and excited when the demand for literature is so high, national and respected news sources are reporting on the shortage of books. In the context of this month’s recent and long overdue discovery of our country’s need for social change, I could not be more joyed. Literature requires critical analysis both of itself and our perceived notions of the world. Literature provokes reflection. Literature inspires action. Through eloquent words, raw stories, and personal memoirs, we have the opportunity to understand something many of us otherwise never would. I firmly believe the art of literature has the power to be a driving force of the social change we are seeking and undertaking.

It is easy to pick up a book, and I firmly believe that if you are white, you have a responsibility to educate yourself in this moment; however, change is hard. Challenging what you’ve always known, diving into an ignored and neglected world is frightening. The stories of the silenced voices cut you raw and summon tears. Reflection leads to change, but it hurts to think you’ve been a part of the injustice for so long and only started to take the cries seriously two weeks ago. This is deeply personal work that many of us may find is not so trendy to share on Instagram. Sitting with the array of feelings dug up is necessary but tiring.

“Perhaps that was, is, the hope of the movement: to awaken the Dreamers, to rouse them to the facts of what their need to be white, to talk like they are white, to think that they are white, which is to think that they are beyond the design flaws of humanity, has done to the world.”

Ta-Nehisi Coates

We’ve been loud, trying to bring others into this work with us. The loudness is important, but so is the quiet. It seems we all have something to say these past few weeks; watching friends speak up who normally wouldn’t is inspiring. I think the loudness brings with it a pressure to enter the cycle of posts on social media. While awareness is important, the cycle takes away from the real work. It’s time to take a deep breath, retreat to your favorite spot on the couch and sit with the words and the voices needing to be heard. Now is the time for the quiet work. Read. And when you’ve finished reading, reflect. When you’ve finished reflecting, ask questions. Coates writes in his essay: 

We have to sit with the words, reflect on the meaning of it all in the context of our own lives. We have to ask ourselves, our communities, our society the hard questions. We cannot accept generalization any longer. Be a courageous thinker. And when you’re exhausted and worn down, take a break. Enjoy the people around you and live in joy. When you’re refreshed, pick up another book.

Inevitably the posts slow down. Instagram is already starting to return to “normal.” It feels like slowing down, but the quiet work is beginning: reading, listening, hard conversations behind closed doors. How are we going to let the words and the stories change us? How are we going to let all of this information change the way we live, speak, post?

A few tears slipped out of my eye as I turned the last page and closed the back cover on Between The World And Me. One hundred and fifty-some pages into the work and I’m feeling sad, overwhelmed. The concept of privilege is something I’ve wrestled with in the past; I’m recognizing it now and am beginning to understand it, if I ever can. I have questions I don’t know will ever be answered, but I will try. Through courageous thinking and the quiet work, I will try. Today I returned the book to the library a little more worn than when I received it. I hope the pages become thin and soft from persistent use.