The Impact of African American Literature on Me
by Dr. Sylvia Carey-Butler
UW Oshkosh Associate Vice Chancellor for Academic Support of Inclusive Excellence
I grew up in a town similar in size to Oshkosh. My teachers were all white from kindergarten to 12th grade, save one history class taught by my cousin. The books we were required to read were by white authors. Even the history classes only referenced the usual suspects in black history: Crispus Attucks, Dr. King, and Rosa Parks and a brief mention of slavery. As such, my formal education offered me little to no entry to African American literature. However, soon I would discover African American literature in another context.
During the summer of 1972, I participated in an Upward Bound program and was introduced to author, Richard Wright through his acclaimed novel; Native Son. The book would be foundational to my understanding of the complexities of growing up black in America. With every turn of the page, I came to understand that I would not be able to breathe without being transported to other worlds or realities by books and poems written by and about blacks. I became an avid reader, sometimes reading two books a week that summer. I recall reading Ralph Ellison’s Invisible Man and growing impatient with the inequities I saw in school and in many aspects of life in my hometown.
Recognizing my desire to deepen my perspective of being black in America, a mentor of mine gave me W.E.B. Du Bois’ The Souls of Black Folks to read. In his book, Du Bois forwarded the concept of “double consciousness” - the difficulty of unifying one’s black identity with being an American. He would posit that blacks are shaped by the perceptions and treatment they receive from white people, which results in a damaged self-image. I didn’t stop there; I would go on to read as many books by black authors as I could get my hands on. Zora Neale Hurston’s Their Eyes Were Watching God made me fall in love with “Tea Cake” and see the strength within “Janie,” the story’s protagonist. Maya Angelou’s, I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings, shook me at my core. I wondered aloud about her experiences as a young black girl and remember asking my mother tough questions, wanting to ensure her fate would not be mine. The prejudice she encountered, the pain of being violated as a young girl, ultimately would propel her to become a prolific storyteller. I read so many more books by black authors and learned so many poems that formed the basis of my identity. All young people should have the experience and opportunity to read authors from different cultures and from their own. It creates a strong sense of self. I would have missed out on so much had I not discovered African American literature. I found my voice through other’s words, and I am forever grateful.
