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Filling in the Black
The George Floyd trial was a tipping point for me. After four years of unleashed racism, I instantly knew what my first trip, outside the isolated bubble of Covid, would have to be. I'd had plenty of time to process what I'd been witnessing from afar. The experiences weren't mine, but had touched me deeply. I knew I needed to dive into history, to explore and better understand how we had gotten to this place. I needed to come face to face with truth, to stare into others' pain without looking away. I needed to fill in the missing pages of the textbooks from my childhood. Over the years, I'd learned some of what I hadn't been taught, but there was still so much I didn't know. I needed to immerse myself in the details, to experience the hammering repetition of a story I'd never been fully or truthfully told. As best as I could, I travelled back in time in our little RV and the physical journey began in Selma.
64 pages, Kindle Edition
Published August 26, 2021
1 person want to read
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Displaying 1 - 6 of 6 reviews
September 6, 2025
Before reading Filling in the Black, I didn’t fully understand what happened to George Floyd. I had heard the name, but I didn’t know the full story, or the weight of what his death meant. It was actually Joan Kantor’s book description that first made me stop and pay attention. Reading her poems helped me begin to understand not just that moment, but the long history behind it, the parts of American history I was never really taught.
This book is unlike anything I’ve read before. Yes, it’s poetry, but it’s also history, reflection, and truth-telling. The poems are written in a voice that’s clear and honest. They don’t try to soften the reality or make it easier to take in. Instead, they ask you to sit with the discomfort, to really see what’s there. That was hard at times, but it was also necessary.
What struck me the most was how much I didn’t know, not just about George Floyd, but about everything that led up to him. The poems talk about slavery, segregation, police violence, injustice ,not in a dry or distant way, but in a very personal one. It made me realize how much of this I had either missed or never been taught. And that’s part of what this book is doing, it’s filling in the missing pieces. It’s giving space to stories and voices that were left out of the version of history I grew up with.
I appreciated that the poems didn’t feel like a lecture. They didn’t make me feel guilty, just more aware. They opened my eyes and made me want to keep learning.
If you’re someone who feels like there are things you missed in school, or if you’re just now starting to understand the depth of racism and injustice in this country, Filling in the Black is a powerful place to start. It’s not always an easy read, but it’s an important one and I’m better for having read it.
This book is unlike anything I’ve read before. Yes, it’s poetry, but it’s also history, reflection, and truth-telling. The poems are written in a voice that’s clear and honest. They don’t try to soften the reality or make it easier to take in. Instead, they ask you to sit with the discomfort, to really see what’s there. That was hard at times, but it was also necessary.
What struck me the most was how much I didn’t know, not just about George Floyd, but about everything that led up to him. The poems talk about slavery, segregation, police violence, injustice ,not in a dry or distant way, but in a very personal one. It made me realize how much of this I had either missed or never been taught. And that’s part of what this book is doing, it’s filling in the missing pieces. It’s giving space to stories and voices that were left out of the version of history I grew up with.
I appreciated that the poems didn’t feel like a lecture. They didn’t make me feel guilty, just more aware. They opened my eyes and made me want to keep learning.
If you’re someone who feels like there are things you missed in school, or if you’re just now starting to understand the depth of racism and injustice in this country, Filling in the Black is a powerful place to start. It’s not always an easy read, but it’s an important one and I’m better for having read it.
September 6, 2025
Like a lot of people, I grew up learning a pretty simplified version of American history. Sure, we learned about slavery, but only in a general way. The Civil Rights Movement got maybe a chapter or two, and then it kind of felt like the story just stopped there. What I didn’t realize was how much of that history still affects people today, and how injustice keeps showing up just in different forms.
Reading Filling in the Black helped me start to fill in those missing pieces, but not just with facts. These poems hit me emotionally in a way facts never did. Joan Kantor doesn’t just blame the world; she looks at herself too, which made the book feel real and honest. That kind of vulnerability made me feel like it was okay to do the same, to really examine my own thinking.
What I liked most is that the poems didn’t feel like a lesson or a lecture. They didn’t try to overwhelm me. Instead, they quietly asked me to listen and when I did, I found myself learning on a deeper level. It wasn’t just about racism or history, but about sitting with hard truths without turning away or shutting down.
This book reminded me that learning isn’t just about collecting new info. It’s about being willing to change, to listen differently, to ask better questions, and to realize there’s still so much we don’t know or maybe aren’t ready to face yet.
Filling in the Black isn’t just a book, it’s an invitation to reflect, to rethink what you thought you knew, and to carry that awareness forward. I’m really grateful for the honesty and emotion Joan Kantor brought to these pages. It stuck with me, and I think it will for anyone who reads it with an open mind and heart.
Reading Filling in the Black helped me start to fill in those missing pieces, but not just with facts. These poems hit me emotionally in a way facts never did. Joan Kantor doesn’t just blame the world; she looks at herself too, which made the book feel real and honest. That kind of vulnerability made me feel like it was okay to do the same, to really examine my own thinking.
What I liked most is that the poems didn’t feel like a lesson or a lecture. They didn’t try to overwhelm me. Instead, they quietly asked me to listen and when I did, I found myself learning on a deeper level. It wasn’t just about racism or history, but about sitting with hard truths without turning away or shutting down.
This book reminded me that learning isn’t just about collecting new info. It’s about being willing to change, to listen differently, to ask better questions, and to realize there’s still so much we don’t know or maybe aren’t ready to face yet.
Filling in the Black isn’t just a book, it’s an invitation to reflect, to rethink what you thought you knew, and to carry that awareness forward. I’m really grateful for the honesty and emotion Joan Kantor brought to these pages. It stuck with me, and I think it will for anyone who reads it with an open mind and heart.
January 17, 2026
Filling in the Black is a deeply personal and reflective work born from moral urgency. Sparked by the George Floyd trial and shaped by the isolation of the COVID era, Joan Kantor’s narrative documents a conscious decision to confront history rather than remain distant from it.
Rather than positioning herself as an authority, Kantor writes as a witness and a learner. The book is grounded in humility, an acknowledgment of the gaps left by education, silence, and privilege. Her journey by RV through historically significant sites, beginning in Selma, becomes both a physical pilgrimage and an internal reckoning.
What gives the book its emotional power is its refusal to rush understanding. Kantor allows repetition, discomfort, and grief to remain present, mirroring the way historical truth must often be absorbed, slowly, painfully, and without simplification. The narrative recognizes that empathy requires endurance: the willingness to look steadily at suffering without turning away.
The writing is intimate and contemplative, blending travel memoir with historical reflection. Rather than offering political commentary, the book centers on human cost, on lives shaped by injustice and on the emotional responsibility of those seeking to understand it honestly.
At just sixty-four pages, Filling in the Black is concise but resonant. Its strength lies not in volume but in intention. It invites readers to question what they were never taught, to recognize the weight of omission, and to understand history not as distant tragedy but as lived experience that continues to shape the present.
This is not a book about answers, it is a book about listening.
Rather than positioning herself as an authority, Kantor writes as a witness and a learner. The book is grounded in humility, an acknowledgment of the gaps left by education, silence, and privilege. Her journey by RV through historically significant sites, beginning in Selma, becomes both a physical pilgrimage and an internal reckoning.
What gives the book its emotional power is its refusal to rush understanding. Kantor allows repetition, discomfort, and grief to remain present, mirroring the way historical truth must often be absorbed, slowly, painfully, and without simplification. The narrative recognizes that empathy requires endurance: the willingness to look steadily at suffering without turning away.
The writing is intimate and contemplative, blending travel memoir with historical reflection. Rather than offering political commentary, the book centers on human cost, on lives shaped by injustice and on the emotional responsibility of those seeking to understand it honestly.
At just sixty-four pages, Filling in the Black is concise but resonant. Its strength lies not in volume but in intention. It invites readers to question what they were never taught, to recognize the weight of omission, and to understand history not as distant tragedy but as lived experience that continues to shape the present.
This is not a book about answers, it is a book about listening.
September 6, 2025
Reading Filling in the Black felt like walking through a museum, a church, and a classroom all at once and being guided by someone who is honest and unafraid to show you the truth, no matter how hard it is to face. Joan Kantor’s poems don’t shy away from pain or difficult history. Instead, they hold space for suffering, for learning, and for waking up to realities many of us have ignored or never fully understood.
One of the biggest lessons I took away from this book is that learning about history, especially the parts that make us uncomfortable, isn’t just about facts or dates. It’s about feeling it, living it, and letting those truths change us. Kantor’s poems gave me permission to sit with hard feelings instead of turning away and to understand that this kind of discomfort is part of healing and change.
Filling in the Black is a gift for anyone who has ever wondered: “What don’t I know? Why haven’t I heard these stories before?” But more importantly, it’s a starting point, a place to begin the difficult but necessary work of facing those questions honestly, and doing something with what we learn.
If you’re ready to be challenged, to reflect deeply, and to open your heart to stories you might have missed, this book will meet you there. It stayed with me long after I finished reading, and I know it has the power to do the same for many others.
One of the biggest lessons I took away from this book is that learning about history, especially the parts that make us uncomfortable, isn’t just about facts or dates. It’s about feeling it, living it, and letting those truths change us. Kantor’s poems gave me permission to sit with hard feelings instead of turning away and to understand that this kind of discomfort is part of healing and change.
Filling in the Black is a gift for anyone who has ever wondered: “What don’t I know? Why haven’t I heard these stories before?” But more importantly, it’s a starting point, a place to begin the difficult but necessary work of facing those questions honestly, and doing something with what we learn.
If you’re ready to be challenged, to reflect deeply, and to open your heart to stories you might have missed, this book will meet you there. It stayed with me long after I finished reading, and I know it has the power to do the same for many others.
August 29, 2025
I picked up this book thinking I’d just be reading poetry, some nice lines, maybe some imagery to sit with. What I didn’t expect was to be hit so hard, to be made to stop and really see the difference in how justice plays out depending on who’s standing in front of the judge. One poem shows a brown boy, saggy pants, no lawyer, no money for bail; already swallowed up by a system that never gave him a chance. The other shows a white boy, dressed in a jacket and tie, parents and lawyer at his side, walking away with nothing more than a lecture and another chance. Same mistake, two completely different outcomes.
That contrast stayed with me. It’s not just words on a page, it’s a reality that plays out every day, and the poet forces us to look at it without turning away. For me, the lesson was clear: what we often brush off as “just how things are” is actually a deep, unfair divide that we can’t afford to ignore.
This book reminded me that poetry isn’t only about beauty, it can be truth-telling, it can be history, it can be a call to pay attention. These poems made me uncomfortable in the best way, because they opened my eyes wider. If you think poetry can’t teach you something about the world you live in, this book will prove you wrong.
That contrast stayed with me. It’s not just words on a page, it’s a reality that plays out every day, and the poet forces us to look at it without turning away. For me, the lesson was clear: what we often brush off as “just how things are” is actually a deep, unfair divide that we can’t afford to ignore.
This book reminded me that poetry isn’t only about beauty, it can be truth-telling, it can be history, it can be a call to pay attention. These poems made me uncomfortable in the best way, because they opened my eyes wider. If you think poetry can’t teach you something about the world you live in, this book will prove you wrong.
August 29, 2025
What really stood out to me in this book was how the author mixed their own journey with history. After George Floyd’s murder, instead of just taking a normal trip after Covid, they went on a kind of pilgrimage, starting in Selma and walking back through the civil rights movement. Reading that, I felt like I was right there too, finally seeing pieces of history that were left out of the textbooks when I was growing up.
That part really hit me. It made me realize the fight for justice didn’t just start in 2020, it’s been going on for a long time, and it’s still happening right now.
I liked this because it showed me poetry doesn’t have to be abstract or hard to understand. It can be real, it can carry truth, it can make you see the present differently by looking at the past.
This book didn’t feel like just poetry, it felt like a journey. And honestly, I think anyone who wants to understand where we are today should read it.
That part really hit me. It made me realize the fight for justice didn’t just start in 2020, it’s been going on for a long time, and it’s still happening right now.
I liked this because it showed me poetry doesn’t have to be abstract or hard to understand. It can be real, it can carry truth, it can make you see the present differently by looking at the past.
This book didn’t feel like just poetry, it felt like a journey. And honestly, I think anyone who wants to understand where we are today should read it.
Displaying 1 - 6 of 6 reviews