This book was well researched and sensitively delivered, and quite honestly just shocking—but I remember feeling that way when Sarah told me her book was about black racial injustice in Oregon.
I briefly met the author sometime before the publication of this book, perhaps a year or so, when our daughters were both considering a private Christian college in Seattle. I remember her telling me she felt she could share the topic of her WIP with me because my hair was colored (probably purple or pink, my two favored choices.) I was amused and pleased—amused because I often feel my fun hair misrepresents me, and pleased because the topic of this book did (and does) indeed interest me.
Rainbow hair aside, I think of myself as quite conservative, and at one time in my life I was a disenchanted delegate to the local republican caucus for a presidential ballot selection. Maybe that disenchantment has left more of a mark than I thought?
Blah, blah, blah, you say. Enough about me, how about the book?
First, I want to praise the author for her excellent narration. I think it is always (probably?) more economical for an author to read their own audiobook, and sometimes wonderful to get the true voice behind the written word, but often in my experience, the author is not always as strong in voice as in pen. I bring this up first because of her heartfelt acknowledgment at the end to her brother being the reason she has such skills at reading aloud.
I have struggled to place myself in many stories about racism. I grew up in an area where my school bus passed through a border patrol migrant checkpoint every day, most my ancestors are rather recent immigrants, and my oldest roots from North America descend through the daughter of a native Chippewa chief. It feels complicated to find an identity there. I don’t see myself as privileged in any way that may have come at a cost to someone else, but maybe I haven’t looked carefully enough.
Sarah may have struggled at one point, too, but in this book she pulls no punches in showing herself the beneficiary of injustice against others, and does so without seeming to paint herself as either a villain or a victim. And gently but firmly she is calling each of us white Christians to look at ourselves and ask hard questions.
Repentance is a theme that has been drumming in my head since I began to consider what ancient Christianity was like, what Christianity NOW should be like, and Sarah’s message is just that. Look in a new way at myself…and see what wicked way may be in me…and be led in the way everlasting. The way of repentance and reconciliation and forgiveness and love.
In the midst of her repentance she tells a fascinating history of Oregon City and the laws of the Oregon territory, and tells what she can of one man, Jacob Vanderpool, who was a unique victim of American racial injustice.