Losing My Cool: Love, Literature, and a Black Man's Escape from the Crowd

I appreciated the author's distinction about enjoying hip-hop music ironically, rather than embracing it as a way of life. His transparency is so extreme, it is a bit discomfiting. Though upon reflection, a large part of the tell-all actually implicated his peers as much or more than him. Often as he described his adolescent exploits, the reader wonders where is parents attention was throughout. Not to mention the private (Catholic) school teachers. Perhaps the apathy is an indictment of relativism in culture at large, not just the subculture he so incisively criticizes. In summary, the author was brought up "spoiled rotten," so it is no wonder he struggled his first year in college. The book tried to place the entire blame on hip-hop culture, while mostly ignoring the particulars of his upbringing.I read this book soon after reading Coates' _We Were Eight Years in Power_ in hopes of contrasting perspectives. But the depth of analysis is not comparable.

I read this book recently, and while I appreciate the author's ability to "evolve" from hip hop culture, I absolutely take issue with the manner he went about it. First, he uses hip hop and black culture interchangeably, which I feel is an extreme error often associated with those who are not familiar with what it actually means to be black, or who are not black themselves. I am black and around the same age as Thomas, and I have pretty much been what he "evolved" into my entire life. I have always seen the irony in hip hop and never took the lyrics to heart, and was often seen by my peers as the "uppity" girl who thought she was better than everyone because I wasn't obsessed with B.I.G. or Air Jordans. You'd think we would have a lot in common, but I totally doubt it. He makes it seem like you need to get away from your black peers in order to get away from hip hop - and he lumps the black student body at Georgetown into one category as if he is familiar with all of them, and uses an example as trivial as CHESS to address the notion that black youth is always attempting to "keep it real." Point blank, a lot of black people love chess; I enjoy it and like watching people play...but am I joining chess club? No thanks! Doesn't mean I don't think chess is "down." The stereotyping of his black peers was insulting. I went to a top ten university and while many of the black students there were similar to what he described, but there were many who(you may stereotype them at first glance) saw BET and hip hop culture for what it is.You'll notice that once he decides to stray from hip hop, he rarely has any black friends and frequently takes part in "intellectual" things to simply call himself an intellectual. He majors in Philosophy and insists on studying abroad (basically for no reason), drinking aged whiskey rather than a 40oz. Thomas, what are you trying to prove, and who are you trying to prove it to? Do you think that spending your entire week's pay on Prada shoes to look "smart" makes you evolved, or just broke?It's a nice attempt, but I truly do not think the author knows what it is to be yourself or to actually keep it real. All he does is move from one group to another (Feeling ashamed because you don't know what a baguette is? Come on...), and still seems pretty lost to me in defining himself. Sad, really.

In this deeply personal and courageous book, Thomas Chatterton Williams seems to me to circle around one question:What is the good life, and how does one live it?Posed like that, however, the question is incomplete. It might be better posed like this:What is the good life (for a black person), and how does one live it?And, importantly, is it different than for people from different racial backgrounds?I don't think Williams offers a definitive answer to the first question—perhaps because there isn’t one.I think I’m reading him accurately if I say that—for him, as a black man—the approach to the good life is through careful examination of one’s self, one’s circumstances, and one’s attitudes towards the two.In short, through philosophy.In response to the second question, I read him as saying that philosophy can be as valuable for black people as it can be for anyone else.I am white. Philosophy as Chatterton presents it (and Socrates would have recognized it) has been a cornerstone of my life—when I’ve practiced it, I’ve done well; when I haven’t, I have not.I’m honored to share the life of the mind with someone who has worked as hard for it as Williams has, and am grateful to him for sharing the story of how he came to value it. I highly recommend it to anyone who is struggling to understand which intellectual projects are provincial and which may be universal.

TCW is clearly a gifted writer, and as you work your way through his story, it's easy to see how this book could be adapted into a screenplay. He knows how to paint the picture, describe people and places, and set the scenery. His honesty is refreshing, and "Losing My Cool" is a must-read for any member of our current young generation.Halfway through the book, I was pretty sure I would give it 5 stars. But toward the end, I felt like the compass started spinning a little bit. The reader is overfed with TCW's adoration of everything French, and I was disappointed that there was never any consequential information or moments described with his mother. Other than a brief mention in the first chapter of a crackhead who yelled out to the author, his mother, and his brother, referring to them as "white people", there is really no other acknowledgment of the dynamics created by being biracial. This is somewhat ridiculous in a story like this. TCW is just as white as he is black, and common sense will tell you that someone who is biracial faces equally upsetting frustration from all angles, regardless of the community they grow up in."Losing My Cool" is a great read, but as the last few chapters develop, the reader has to wonder if the author really "beat" hip-hop culture and all its peer pressure, or simply "immigrated" from that culture to one of wine-drinking, French-speaking, philosopher-quoting, non-prescription-glasses-wearing socialites, with the same amount of conformity.

As a reading mentor, I am always drawn to books about books. Although this one is about a young American man, it still has much to say about reading and young people in this country too. The peer pressure that is making boys generally fail at school because books are 'not cool' - although obviously, we know they are!The author lived in New Jersey in a predominantly white neighbourhood and was enrolled in a private Catholic school because of the "superior levels of discipline." Struggling with his identity, he began to realise that he could use his image to intimidate others and was drawn to the culture of hip-hop. During this time though, he was also studying every night with his father, who was an enormous reader and struggled with every bookworm's feelings when their children do not share their love. "How can you keep walking past all these books and never stop to pick up a single one?" he asks and I can easily imagine myself saying the same thing to my eldest son.Gradually, the author began to play down his fathers ideas and began to define himself through his new identity. Through hip-hop music with it's casual violence and sexism, through physical sports and gangster fantasy. In other words, through the body and not the mind. His father tells him, "I really don't care if we ever have another black athlete or entertainer," but he is seduced by this new world. He finds himself shouting at white teachers and girls, even as he begins to doubt the behaviour he sees around himself.When he goes to Georgetown as a freshman, he squanders his first year trying to fit in with the black community there and struggles with his grades. However, gradually, he begins to shrug off the peer pressure that surrounds him and to realise how limiting it is. His father is always a voice of reason throughout this book. He never judges, always gives advice when asked and, more than that, does his best to help his bright son keep his education going throughout his identity struggles. Eventually, the author discovers that love of books for himself and you want to cheer as he discovers a whole world outside of the one he has been defining himself by.This really was a very inspiring read and I enjoyed it very much. I felt like applauding father and son for their efforts. It is really hard to step back and admit that you were, perhaps, wrong in something at any age, but especially when you are young. It is always difficult to turn your life around and take a different path, but I am glad the author managed it. As he says, there are too many young people becoming statistics. The girl he first loved becomes a young single mother, the boy he looked up to as a great basketball player is arrested for murder. It is a tragic read, but with a great ending. I highly recommend this book.

A very brave and well argued book. And I entirely agree about Shelby Steele who I admire also. However the author doesn't mention either Marxism or Islam.