★★★★★
Immigrant and child-of-immigrant memoirs are quickly becoming one of my favorite genres.
I started following Wajahat Ali on Twitter based on his posts about his daughter's medical situation, Legos, and Star Wars. I didn't even know he was a politics and race commentator until later.
Right off the bat, this book opened with the author's irreverent responses to hate mail he's received. I imagine this introduction might be an eye-opener for white readers who never realized the kind of abuse commonly faced by people of color in the public eye.
In the beginning, it felt like the author was channeling a comedian. The humor in his writing struck me as similar to Dave Barry's, even when he hit on heavy topics like racism and mental health. While entertaining, the humor also felt like it was being wielded as a shield, like, "I have to make a joke now, because if I don't laugh, I might just break down and cry." As the book progressed, the author shared the lows, and even lower lows, of his life, and the writing carried more gravitas. Gradually, by the end, the writing felt sincerely earnest.
Being a memoir, this book is very approachable and easy to read, which actually makes it a good Trojan horse for its sharp discussions of race. Ali's personal narrative is interspersed with lots of social commentary and edifying tidbits about Muslims in history and culture. At times, the content felt more like a collection of essays than a straight chronological narrative. Unlike other immigrant memoirs I've read, Ali's story was atypical in that it took many unexpected turns involving near-death experiences and the criminal justice system.
I enjoyed Ali's writing style, which was full of pithy truths like, "[Accents were a] telltale sign that, despite all their successes, their investment and time spent in this country, they were still foreigners and immigrants, a punching bag and a punchline," (p. 40) and, "The playground is where you first learn your rank in the American hierarchy [of race]." (p. 42)
One thing (of many) that I found remarkable about Ali's life was just how much he was supported by the elders in his community. In America, I think much of the spotlight is on peer relationships, and not enough credit is given to how valuable our aunties and uncles and those in our grandparents' generation can be in our lives.
I appreciated the book ending on a very hopeful note, with Ali quoting the Prophet Muhammad: "If the Hour [the day of Resurrection] is about to be established and one of you was holding a palm shoot, let him take advantage of even one second before the Hour is established to plant it." (p. 221)
I also liked that non-English words were translated in-line, so there was no need to flip back and forth to a glossary at the back of the book.
Now, I've got to see if I can get my hands on a copy of Wajahat Ali's play, The Domestic Crusaders...
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