It made me sick to my stomach thinking about the injustices that the Black community, or any POC community, faces within Western society. That this was a street fight, instigated by white boys invading Amal's neighbourhood and telling him and his friends to leave their own streets, that they do not belong where they live. That these white teens believe they have a right to every space they are in, because in the United States they are told that they do, they are shown countless times that they have more rights than anyone else. I mean, this is obvious in the fact the only ones charged in the fight were the Black kids from Amal's neighbourhood, who were simply trying to play at their own park. Amal's life is destroyed by this act he did not commit, but no one seems to care. His lawyer does very little to defend him (and clearly does not seem to see Amal as anything more than a paycheck), and the character witnesses called to represent Amal are people who know little about him or about where he lives, who he is, his family, his life. His art teacher, who continuously failed him for pointing out the fact she only taught about famous white painters, said he was channeling his anger into his art (art she did not even understand). All that seems to matter is the life of the white boy (Jeremy) in the coma. No one cares that Amal will not be attending his summer art program, will not be attending his prom, will no longer have the opportunity to go to his top choice of college. American society stripped Amal of his humanity, made him a shell which they could fill with all the stereotypes, racism, and bigotry the justice system possesses. This is a system that does not honour the truth. The system is so flawed, so broken, so absolutely atrocious. The people running the prison, the guards, treat the inmates as less than human, punish them for the smallest and dumbest reasons. Remember, he is a minor, so this is a juvenile detention facility; however, it is run like a maximum security prison and one of the guards has a very graphic, horrifying tattoo (which clearly shows he is a white supremist). The psychologist assigned to Amal does not even listen to him, knows nothing about his past, and is infuriating to listen to. She does nothing to help him when he is assaulted by other inmates, does little to help in his education, and does not provide the tools to make him feel safe or comforted. The only people who appear to care are the poetry teacher (who is fighting to abolish the prison system) and the Dr. that she brings in to make a presentation to the class. But, even as they mean to help these teens, they can do very little against a system that was built on racism. At every step the system fails Amal, from the police, to his lawyer, to the courts, to the juvenile facility. The really sad fact, he is only one of many. This may be a fictional story, but it is built around true stories of innocent Black children and adults arrested and sent to prison. One of the authors was falsely imprisoned himself, and fought for years to regain his freedom. This book, the words within it, are heartbreaking, but beautiful. While you cry for this Black teenager and the freedoms he has lost, you feel the threads of hope that (even after everything he has been put through) he still holds on to. Somewhere there is a butterfly, whose beating wings can change the world.
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