I saw that Julie over at One More Book came up with a new post called Loving the Lines.
Basically, Loving the Lines is dedicated to books with stand-out quotes that need to be shared. I’m often moved by passages and lines from the books I read, and I thought this would be a great way to show the love!! Many thanks to all the wonderful writers who inspire, empower, entertain, and make people think.
As soon as I saw this post I knew I needed to make this a weekly post! Instead of focusing on just one author, I’ve decided to focus on one book that has some really powerful and memorable quotes.
You can read my review of the book here.
They’ve instead decided to just treat her like a heroine, and that apparently makes everything all better. They’ll listen to her speak, even invite her to do it, but listening is clearly all they’re willing to do.
I could absorb the impact, be the soldier who falls on the live grenade, because that’s what you do when you have a privilege someone else needs.
There are some kinds of magic only some people can have, and maybe they think that makes them more real than the rest of us. It clearly makes them think that have some kind of power over the rest of us, but beloved. It’s only as much as I allow.
If we’re gonna valorize my pain, if I get to regain my right to be beautiful and brutally honest by bleeding, do we also get to talk about their part in it?
Still. No one asked me whether or not I wanted pictures of my darkest moments plastered on the internet, even behind a flimsy authorization wall, even for the sake of remembrance.
Perhaps fro someone else, questions only arise about the less privileged, or when someone is at a distinct disadvantage.
Personally, I think privilege should attract the most scrutiny, not the least.
The point was to let us know they’re on guard. They’re ready to engage. Always. They will, at the slightest provocation, and there’s a built in defense for any potential, and probable, overreaction.
What keeps snagging my brain is how an attack set for sirens could so easily debilitate an Eloko. As long as she’s also a Black girl. Which means, at the end of the day, that’s who this is all designed to confront.
I’m sick of female rappers not getting to beef as is customary in the game because the conversation inevitably becomes about women tearing each other down.
I’m sick of being chastised, of having to uphold the humanity of so many intersections that I’m not allowed to just dislike someone.
I am magic. Without question.
Fight society, not me. I didn’t make the rules, I just win at the game.
What we’re not gonna do is start thanking out attackers for our personal growth.
Isn’t it funny how the narrative is always that no one would have ever guessed, when really, statistically, we all should’ve? He Doesn’t Look Like A Bad Guy only makes sense if you’re a complete Fox News zombie, parroting back whatever you’re told. He doesn’t look like the guys we’re told are bad. He doesn’t look like the people we’re supposed to mistrust.
About the Book:
Publisher: Tor Teen
Published: June 1, 2021
Teen influencer Naema Bradshaw has it all: she’s famous, privileged, has “the good hair”— and she’s an Eloko, a person who’s gifted with a song that woos anyone who hears it. Everyone loves her — well, until she’s cast as the awful person who exposed Tavia’s secret siren powers.
Now, she’s being dragged by the media. No one understands her side: not her boyfriend, not her friends, nor her Eloko community. But Naema knows the truth and is determined to build herself back up — no matter what.
When a new, flourishing segment of Naema’s online supporters start targeting black girls, however, Naema must discover the true purpose of her magical voice.