Review - If My Words Had Wings

Review - If My Words Had Wings by Danielle Jawando, cover art by ?, published by Simon and Schuster

I've loved Danielle Jawando's previous books and this newest book from her has more than lived up to expectations. There is so much to say about it, so much to feel about it but so little I feel able to put into words coherently. The only thing I can do is implore you to read it. 

We meet main character Tyrell in prison and follow him through his final months there and back into the world outside on his release. With mental health struggles, threats from fellow inmates and anxiety about his release and his relationships with friends and family, he is finding life hard. 

So too are the other characters we meet on the wing, especially those who should not be there; those who have been targeted, scape-goated and seemingly 'tidied up' but who haven't actually done anything; those who are looking at decades of their lives behind bars for minor (or non existent) crimes with no hope for anything more. 

This is a difficult read. My heart broke again and again and I raged uselessly on behalf of these boys. I cannot imagine the pressure, stress, tension and despair of living like they do. 

Having given up on school (because it seemed to have given up on him), Ty is surprised to find that a poetry workshop he attends purely to be out if his cell turns out to be just the thing he needed. 

And it's through this he begins to see a light at the end of the tunnel and a release for his pent up feelings. It's through the safety of the poetry group that these tough lads realise they're all feeling vulnerable, hurt and victimised. There is a tentative togetherness, which I'm glad never stretches into the unrealistic - they don't become bosom buddies or create reform and unity in this godforsaken place - there's just a sort of inner strength to be found in knowing it is so. 

The power of words here is not to be understated either in the metaphors and ponderings of the poetry Ty reads and creates. I loved the way the vocabulary of birds was juxtaposed with the prison setting so effectively, and the way he discovered his own voice and experience in the poetry of others - a revelation after years of irrelevant words from dead, white men at school. 

This book made me so angry. I think mostly because it slams home the unfairness of society and so many of the institutions and systems that should be there to support, guide, protect, rehabilitate, educate... that instead let so many young people - especially less well-off, young, black boys - down.

So, yes, I spent much of this book raging, a great deal of it close to tears and pretty much all of it feeling utterly useless and frustrated by how impossible any change to this feels. 

But I also rejoiced in the rare moments of hope, celebrated the few people working in these systems who, despite fighting against the tide, are trying to help, and cheered for the friendships, the small victories, and the feeling of freedom words can bring.