A graphic memoir explores the author's experiences with and understanding of racism.When he was 6, Bell, a contributing cartoonist to the New Yorker and recipient of the 2019 Pulitzer Prize for his editorial cartoons, was playing with a neon-green water gun when a policeman told him to drop his weapon. Earlier that day, he'd asked his mother why his toy had to be green. "That's what's going to keep you alive," his mother, who is White, told him. "The world is…different for you and your brother. White people won't see you or treat you the way they do little white boys." The author continues, "If they see me with [the gun], they'll see a menace. A thug. A threat to be dealt with." Throughout this powerful graphic narrative, the author traces pivotal events in his life and career that were in some way connected to this conversation. As a kid, he encountered racist teachers, one of whom tried to fail him despite his high grades. In college, he sat with White classmates who argued "that colonialism was GOOD for Africa." "I bite my tongue," he explains, "because I'm tired of being ‘The Other.' " Bell's story reflects his awakening to-and gradual comprehension of-the realities of American racism. At first, he didn't want to believe what he saw. Composing an essay for his college application, he wrote, "I am not a ‘Black' American. I am not an ‘African American.' I am not any sort of hyphenated-American. I am not even an ‘American.' For these are all social constructs." Bell's deft drawings perfectly complement the text, with a watery blue wash and panels of varying sizes and shapes matching the contemplative mood. Funny and nerdy-note multiple references to Star Wars-the book is also deeply moving. Part memoir and part intellectual awakening, Bell's memoir is a triumph.A beautifully drawn book, rich with insight, humor, and hard-won knowledge.

A graphic memoir explores the author's experiences with and understanding of racism.When he was 6, Bell, a contributing cartoonist to the New Yorker and recipient of the 2019 Pulitzer Prize for his editorial cartoons, was playing with a neon-green water gun when a policeman told him to drop his weapon. Earlier that day, he'd asked his mother why his toy had to be green. "That's what's going to keep you alive," his mother, who is White, told him. "The world is…different for you and your brother. White people won't see you or treat you the way they do little white boys." The author continues, "If they see me with [the gun], they'll see a menace. A thug. A threat to be dealt with." Throughout this powerful graphic narrative, the author traces pivotal events in his life and career that were in some way connected to this conversation. As a kid, he encountered racist teachers, one of whom tried to fail him despite his high grades. In college, he sat with White classmates who argued "that colonialism was GOOD for Africa." "I bite my tongue," he explains, "because I'm tired of being ‘The Other.' " Bell's story reflects his awakening to-and gradual comprehension of-the realities of American racism. At first, he didn't want to believe what he saw. Composing an essay for his college application, he wrote, "I am not a ‘Black' American. I am not an ‘African American.' I am not any sort of hyphenated-American. I am not even an ‘American.' For these are all social constructs." Bell's deft drawings perfectly complement the text, with a watery blue wash and panels of varying sizes and shapes matching the contemplative mood. Funny and nerdy-note multiple references to Star Wars-the book is also deeply moving. Part memoir and part intellectual awakening, Bell's memoir is a triumph.A beautifully drawn book, rich with insight, humor, and hard-won knowledge.

Pulitzer Prize–winning cartoonist Bell, known for his syndicated strip Candorville, delivers an unflinching debut graphic memoir that balances gravity, vulnerability, and humor in relaying his life as a Black man and parent. When he was a child in 1981, a terrifying standoff with a pair of Dobermans left an indelible imprint that became a metaphor for future racist interactions. Later, after Bell’s white mother prohibited him from playing outside with a water gun, she attempted “the talk,” a conversation between Black parents and their children about living while Black. She cautioned, “White people won’t see you or treat you the way they do little white boys.” When he sneaked out the toy regardless, it resulted in a tense encounter with a police officer who seemed to morph into the dogs. (The episode is drawn to evoke the memory of Tamir Rice, who is listed along with other names in a haunting dedication page memorial.) Indeed, racism pervaded Bell’s life into adulthood: he was bullied, surveilled, and falsely accused of delinquency and plagiarism. His career as a cartoonist is a through line, from childhood drawing to his professional impact that garnered hate mail and swayed public opinion with sometimes devastating consequences. Reckoning with his identity during an ongoing history of racialized violence, Bell recounts how his father’s inability to give “the talk” still haunts him and takes on greater significance when Bell’s own son asks about George Floyd. The narrative, drawn awash in a blue hue, artfully interweaves sepia flashbacks and artifacts of 1980s pop culture (from Mr. Potato Head to Star Trek) highlighted with flashes of color. This emotionally striking work is sure to leave a lasting mark. Agent: Daniel Lazar, Writers House. (June)