Kendra Allen’s first collection of essays—at its core—is a bunch of mad stories about things she never learned to let go of. Unifying personal narrative and cultural commentary, this collection grapples with the lessons that have been stored between parent and daughter. These parental relationships expose the conditioning that subconsciously informed her ideas on social issues such as colorism, feminism, war-induced PTSD, homophobia, marriage, and “the n-word,” among other things.
These dynamics strive for some semblance of accountability, and the essays within this collection are used as displays of deep unlearning and restoring—balancing trauma and humor, poetics and reality, forgiveness and resentment.
When You Learn the Alphabet allots space for large moments of tenderness and empathy for all black bodies—but especially all black woman bodies—space for the underrepresented humanity and uncared for pain of black girls, and space to have the opportunity to be listened to in order to evolve past it.
The fantastic Kiese Laymon made me read this, and this man clearly knows what's new and interesting: Kendra Allen's debut is a mixture of memoir, essays and poetry, and all of her texts are discussing what it means to be a twentysomething black women in today's America. We learn about Allen's family (both of her parents are veterans ), how the "war on drugs" affects her community, the effects of absent fathers, the racism she has to deal with, how she experienced Europe (Paris, in this particular case), homophobia in the black community, rap and movies, and many other things - the multi-faceted collection has earned Allen the Iowa Prize for Literary Nonfiction.
All of these texts are deeply personal, so it's very hard to rate the book, and it has to be said that I was never bored or felt like the observations the author presents aren't important. But maybe I am a little spoilt by the insanely brilliant memoirs and essay collections that have come out lately, like Heart Berries, Heavy: An American Memoir, or We Were Eight Years in Power: An American Tragedy.
Still, I will definitely read whatever Allen will publish next, because this is a writer to watch, and she is only getting started.
This book is a collection of essays. But it's so much more than that and I know that I cannot do it justice. When you learn the alphabet is composed of these fragments of themes that compose the sentence of life. She's too black to be considered beautiful, too cool to not be like other girls in the eyes of men but when in the realization of her faults and pavement to grow, too female; a word uttered in repugnance. This book shows that you can grow and become stronger at every basis, something that is consistently shows throughout.
This book deals with a lot of powerful themes; colour scale of beauty; the mold of women; feminism viewed as evil; parenthood/family; police brutality; racial profiling; objectified black women that are supposed to represent a win; normalized hate culture; the careless use of the n-word in all settings and what it really means; homophobia/transphobia; exclusion on representation in the lgbtq+ community; fragile masculinity; mental illness and so many more topics that are fundamental.
This book is so incredibly raw, that's because it's real. It's not fiction. If I could, I would quote this entire book but it's better if you read it yourself.
"Black girl going too fast, I know nothing else mattered"
"Because a 14-year-old’s "I don’t care as long as they don’t try to talk to me" sounds at 23, a lot like, I accept you, I just don’t agree with your lifestyle. As if my heterosexual lifestyle is defaulted as better, as cleaner, as any more successful. As if my cisgendered heterosexuality is the only thing worthy of representation and open conversation"
"Black feminism makes me feel as if I should be grateful to just be seen, no matter how I’m being shown, because who knows when, or if, I will be considered again."
"They always win for their pain, they are never happy or revolutionary, they are always punished because they are black, and they are always ruined and gutted because they are women because society cannot imagine any other way for them to exist." - about black women "winning" prizes and praise
"What am I complaining for, is what she was saying to me, physical shackles are no longer around my ankles; they are just wrapped around my mind."
"I didn’t realize white people expected me to thrive in their representations of my blackness."
(I recieved a free copy of this arc from Netgalley in exchange for an honest review)
I devoured this new collection of smart, witty, funny poetry and poetic essays on race and color, that also incorporate the n word (that Eminem went his entire rap career without saying), degrees of fatherlessness, multifaceted love, and the utilitarian inception of crack. I can't believe the day I read about Kendra Allen crediting black gay community storylines in shows such as Empire, actor Jussie Smollett who plays a black gay musician in Empire, is nearly killed in a MAGA hate crime attack. The world needs to listen to Kendra Allen, she knows what she's talking about, and she makes sense.
This book was well-written, and it covers some important and compelling themes. However, I had a hard time feeling engaged and wanting to read on. I think that part of the problem was that I didn't realize it was a book of essays when I picked it up—I was expecting fiction. While I certainly appreciate the form of the personal essay, it was just not what I'd been expecting (obviously, that's on me).
Kendra Allen's essay collection When You Learn the Alphabet is an important collection of essays on race in America. Allen writes in several forms, ranging from memoir, to lyric essay, to poetry. What I admire most about these essays is Allen's willingness to examine her own humanity rather than analyzing society from an objective distance. In the essay "Polar Bear Express,"the narrator reveals that she lies to an old man on the bus to avoid a conversation and later regrets the missed opportunity. I've ridden Chicago busses and ignored this kind of conversation, so I can relate and find the honesty refreshing. Allen is often angry at the systematic injustices and microagressions (or just plain aggression) she witnesses in society, yet she also examines the roots of her anger, both in facing ever-present racism and in growing up in a family plagued by addiction (Aunt A), divorce, violence, and PTSD. There are no easy answers, and though I sometimes might disagree, Allen's essays are always challenging and engaging. For instance, after reading her essay about a creative writing workshop, I would love to rshow Allen Anna Leahy's Power and Identity in the Creative Writing Classroom: The Authority Project and question the instructor's practice of reading student work aloud to the class. But I am also moved by Allen's account of her reaction to hearing her white male instructor read the n-word aloud, rather than having her black male classmate read his own piece. Whether I ultimately agree about the politics of who can read this word, I gain by learning how Allen and her classmate experience this situation. The fact Allen exposes her own vulnerabilities allows this kind dialogue between narrator and reader and shows a level of maturity that is rare in a first collection.
I know I'm probably not the target audience for this book, but I think it is always a good idea to read outside your comfort zone. This book is certainly outside my usual reading, and I recommend it for anyone wondering what the other side thinks.
Though I'm not a black woman, seeing issues from Allen's side is eye-opening. I know she will have a different view on things as she experiences things differently than I do, but to have her talk about absent fathers and casual racism from someone who lived it is different than "knowing".
I like how Allen gave the people in her life context, a reason for doing what they did, even if what they did was unacceptable. This context makes them people, not constructs from the past that can be ignored or downplayed. These are real people, with their own hopes and dreams, that hurt the world around them with selfishness and immaturity.
I recommend this book to anyone looking to broaden their horizons.
Thank you Netgalley for a free eARC of When You Learn the Alphabet!
Kendra Allen's collection of essays, poems and personal memories plays nicely with different formats and dips in and out of stating her own experiences and opinions and sharing more private family history. I did find myself more interested in the latter, wanting to hear about the complex relationships she has with both her parents, and recognizing the need of a now adult child to reconcile feelings of love and hate towards the people most close to you. Allen also has a strong voice when talking of political topics of race, sexuality, and mental health but the predominant feeling of anger unfortunately often kept me at arms length. With movies, books, and especially music heavily influencing the essays it will be interesting to see how the topics of her essays change with time.
Read upon arrival if you have the time - I did! The winner of Iowa Literary Nonfiction 2018 did her just do. So personal, relevant,honest,selfless, and real is how it makes you feel. Having already read “Dark Girls” on Rumpus.net I had an idea of what was to come. “The Beautiful Ones Always Smash the Picture” about her trip to Paris makes you want to gin yourself and sit down and breath the air and write too!. The way she wrote “Legs On His Shoulders” made me laugh and say who cares what He Says... To get the yest of the book you must dive into “Don’t Gaslight the Moonlight”,”Skin Cracks,Blood Spills”, and the Title “When You Learn The Alphabet”. Real talk on her life experiences and rawness. I read it in five hours and the last chapter “Bombs on Fire” is HOT. Good luck on the next Ms Kendra Allen - well deserved !
What an extraordinary and wide-ranging essay collection by a writer who is already proving herself to be one of her generation’s best. Kendra Allen has since published an incandescent poetry collection, The Collection Plate, and has a memoir on the way. Her first book, When You Learn the Alphabet, is a tender, aching, funny, honest work of art about what it means to be a Black woman in America — as a daughter, a student, a traveler, a friend. I love her voice and humility and brilliance so much!
The specifics culled to illustrate the universal felt invasive and terrifying. Promoted meditations on whether I’m special or common or if the words have anything to do with another. Poignant without taking itself too seriously and superficial in an exacting kind of way that promises a reckoning with all of the shit that forms like Voltron into the one common ass You.
The clear and strong voice of a twenty-something young black woman -- high pitched reflections on growing up female and black, filled with deep-feeling/deep-thinking. Beyond walking in someone else's shoes. It takes a new step forward into helping a reader dive into someone else's thoughts and feelings, and stepping inside someone else's skin, colored and maturing, and full-throated drinking/thinking/living someone else's experiences. I recommend diving in.
Kendra Allen's essays are at times lyrical, ranting, conversational, vulnerable, and always honest. I was moved by the incisiveness of Allen's voice. "How to Workshop N-Words" and "Father Can You Hear Me?" were my favorites, although the titular essay is searing and soaring. I love how Allen plays with form. And I'm excited to hear her read from this book at the 2019 Welty Symposium.
#BookReview • Kendra Allen’s “When You Learn the Alphabet: Essays” is a sharp set of reflections and meditations on race, gender, sexuality, and the things our parents pass down to us (for better or worse or just because). The essays read like conversations with a friend over a cocktail. Sometimes heavy, sometimes sassy, sometimes funny. Check it out!
thank you jenny boully for having us read this. i always get so intimidated by essay collections because of my "incessant need to consume fiction" but kendra allen writes with a skill and passion that made me think she was much older than she really was. i laughed, i cried, i related. this is a beautiful book.
I related to a lot in this book. The first essay Dark Girls was everything I’ve ever said and wanted to say about being a dark skinned black woman. And the collection’s eponymous essay is thoughtful and clever. So many special moments in this collection.
I think this is closer to a 3.5 for me. I think as far as the writing ability and talent, it is a 4, but the style wasn't really suited to me--- it kind of made me anxious. However, there are solid insights throughout the text that are unforgettable. Definitely worth reading.
Obviously Kendra Allen has learned the alphabet. Her grouping of thoughts, words, and sentences is phenomenal. Read it....and prepare to be blown away!
I`m not used to reading essays, but i found this book to be intriguing in its subject matter and HIGHLY educational without being boring!! It really made me think, the essays are really compelling and raw, even if sometimes the subject is difficult and complex, going through it was easy and i feel like after reading this i`m aware of a lot of issues i was not aware of before, i REALLY think this book is a must read, to be honest!!
Like most people, I was distracted from reading this book by a gallery of pretty covers and romance novels, but when I got down to it, I could not stop taking in each word, each emotion, each frustration as though the author were peeling off my skin, layer by layer and telling me as it is. Thanks Netgalley for the eARC, if ever there's a book that I wish I could quote word for word in a review, it's got to be this one, but there's something called reading the fine line...and towing it.