18 of 21 people found the following review helpful:
5.0 out of 5 stars
superb memoir, January 15, 2009
This review is from: The Black Girl Next Door: A Memoir (Hardcover)
In the mid 1970s in affluent California, elementary school student, Jennifer Baszile and her sister were the only black kids in the building. In the first grade she obtained a deep lesson on de facto racism and ignorance after winning a running race. The loser, naturally white, as everyone else except her sister was, "intelligently" commented that blacks had something special in their feet. Her teacher confirmed that as a truism. Her dad took exception but was careful not to have the school think he was a ghetto thug as he understood they were the local Jackie Robinson and had to behave with more decorum than their neighbors. As integration was pushed as social and legal policy, Jennifer would see de jure racism when she visited her paternal relatives in Louisiana and de facto segregation in Detroit seeing her maternal blood. Still her parents pushed her and her sibling to live the American dream as black pioneers, which the author succeeded because she became the first black female professor at Yale's History Department.
THE BLACK GIRL NEXT DOOR is a superb memoir that looks deep into one black family making it in an all white wealthy neighborhood during a time when the Civil Rights movement was pushing integration against racial laws and society barriers. Professor Baszile provides powerful anecdotal incidents of so-called supporters of integration resenting the first black family on their block and how it felt to be the only exceptions to the all white rule in so many scenarios; not just school. Readers will appreciate this superb well written window to how society has come a long way due to brave settlers like the parents of the author who wanted more than the dream for their offspring; they courageously went after the opportunity fully aware they would be the token black family next door.
Harriet Klausner
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11 of 13 people found the following review helpful:
5.0 out of 5 stars
One of those works that allows people to both find common ground and break down walls, January 26, 2009
This review is from: The Black Girl Next Door: A Memoir (Hardcover)
Jennifer Baszile's mother and father didn't grow up having everything, but, like most parents do, they worked to make sure their children would. As soon as they could, they moved their family to the California suburb of Palos Verdes, even if it meant they had to make longer commutes to work. Jennifer and her sister Natalie attended the best schools in the area, and their parents expected them to work hard and eventually go to college.
That's nothing out of the ordinary, except that to the Basziles' mainly white neighbors, the family was strange, an aberration, and they did not belong in the neighborhood. Soon after moving, someone scrawled a racist note on their sidewalk. Another night, a vandal snuck into the family's courtyard and painted their fountain black. Mr. and Mrs. Baszile, no strangers to racism, refused to get emotional; they simply cleaned the sidewalk and made a stance not to leave the neighborhood.
The decades after the civil rights movement weren't easy. Baszile recalls a day in elementary school when she beat her white friend in a race before class. The friend was a good sport about it, though --- she simply told everyone that "black people have something in their feet to make them run faster." When the children asked their teacher if that was true, she said it was.
Baszile's memoir continues to tell both the story of an everygirl growing up in 1980s California and the story of an incredible struggle that still exists today to define oneself as an individual both like and unlike the dominant society. She vividly describes her first hair relaxer treatment, so that even as a reader, you can feel her pain and her pride. All of her stories, from first dates to fights with her parents to her rivalry with her sister, resonate as familiar scenes of adolescence no matter your background.
Though I grew up later than Baszile, I found familiarity in her stories, which made me both comfortable and sad that race relations in the United States have not changed all that much since the '60s. Her stories about dating and making friends are especially bittersweet. They are brutally honest and reflect the confusion that comes when you wonder if people like you because of your race, in spite of your race, or they do not see race at all. One of her most interesting memories regards a cruise trip in which Baszile and her sister had the time of their lives, hanging out on their own and making new friends, until their parents became angry and required them to befriend every single black child on the ship.
It would be easy to say that this memoir is important because of the recent election. That's certainly the case, but to say so means that race is only pertinent when an important political event occurs. THE BLACK GIRL NEXT DOOR is a relevant read for anyone living in the United States, an honest portrayal of a life and a person many don't fully understand. Race is a complicated issue, and this country is a race-based society. Baszile's memoir is one of those works that allows people to both find common ground and break down walls.
--- Reviewed by Sarah Hannah Gómez
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5 of 5 people found the following review helpful:
5.0 out of 5 stars
Brought back painful memories, May 4, 2009
This review is from: The Black Girl Next Door: A Memoir (Hardcover)
I nearly didn't finish this book because it was too painful to read. You see, I had a very similar upbringing -- living as a black girl in the 70s and 80s in an affluent white suburb and feeling like a total failure every where I turned. I too wondered if I would ever have a date or ever feel desired or pretty. "Was a stuffed bear or a rose on Valentine's Day too much to ask? Was a dreamy slow dance an absurdity?" Yes, Jennifer, I wondered that too. I hadn't even thought about that high school time in years -- probably trying to repress bad memories. Thank you for having the courage to write this.
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