Honky

Honky, by Dalton Conley (2000)

Conley writes of his experiences growing up white in an overwhelmingly black and Hispanic housing complex. Much of this memoir reads more like the sociologist he would eventually become than the child who grew up as a minority in a poor neighborhood.

From a young age, Conley relates that he was aware of the many advantages that his race gave him. Indeed, after he attends an area school—in which he is the only white student—his parents game the educational system and enroll their son in a school in Greenwich Village.

The clash of cultures looms larger in Conley’s life as his new friends begin to ask about coming to his apartment. The author relates his embarrassment about his neighborhood and his contempt for his less fortunate neighbors as he gets older and begins to focus on his own academic future.

In spite of the book’s title, Conley only relates one incident in which the title epitaph is used against him. He also only describes one instance during which he worried for his own safety in his old lower East Side neighborhood.

The climax of young Dalton’s story is the shooting and maiming of his black friend, Jerome. Conley’s parents make the decision to leave the old neighborhood for subsidized housing in a better part of town.

Dalton’s memoir doesn’t read like a personal account as much as a sociological elucidation of the events that shaped his young life. In spite of this fact, it is still an interesting, quick read. Recommended.

The Coldest Winter Ever

This post is the first in a series of reviews commemorating Black History Month

The Coldest Winter Ever, by Sister Souljah (1999)

Winter Santiaga is born on a bitterly cold Brooklyn day to her mother, a homemaker, and father, who oversees a drug syndicate in their neighborhood in the projects.

Though the streets around them are poor, the Santiagas want for nothing thanks to the father's nefarious trade. Winter grows up with all of the material gods she could ever hope for, and she moves through her rough neighborhood unheeded as she has the protection of her name.

With life getting more dangerous for his family, Ricky Santiaga decides to move to Long Island. He put his wife and three daughters into a palacial home in an exclusive neighborhood. Meanwhile, he commutes back to the city to monitor his business.

When this new life garners the attention of federal authorities, Winter finds her father incarcerated and all of the family fortune confiscated. She goes from getting diamond tennis bracelets as birthday gifts to fending for herself on the streets. She spends some time living with friends and family, on the run from the Bureau of Child Welfare, which gains custody of her two younger sisters.

The protagonist puts herself above all others. She possesses a supreme sense of entitlement and while she seeks to build a criminal business of her own, she never stops looking for a man to take care of her. I find the dichotomy between her desire to get ahead of everyone around her, yet to be subservient to a strong man one of the more interesting and troubling aspects of her character.

Eventually, Winter's path crosses with that of the author herself, Sister Souljah. The activist and rapper is hosting talks with members of the community to discuss life choices and black unity. Will Winter shed her hard, selfish path and decide to change her life?

The book is like few things I've read. The language is raw but genuine, and while the story is somewhat predictable it's a powerful read. Highly recommended.

Originally reviewed 2/18/06