“There’s no better opportunity for a black boy in this country than to join the army.”
This statement from Rashad’s father reveals a great deal about his character. Rashad’s father believes in discipline and respectability. He acknowledges the barriers and lack of opportunity that Black men face in the U.S. In his eyes, joining the Army provides a clear path to navigate the challenges of racism through discipline and earning the respect of society, something Black men have to fight to attain. Having himself served in the Army for four years, he tries to push his two sons to do the same. Snoopy rejects his father’s wishes but Rashad ultimately acquiesces by joining ROTC.
Apparently I had his eyes. His build. His “All-American” looks. All-American? What the hell was that? I hated that shit. What did it even mean?
Quinn is constantly being reminded of how much he looks like his father, who died while serving in Afghanistan. After his death, his father was regarded as a hero, and Quinn feels enormous pressure to live up to an ideal of his father that’s become nearly impossible to achieve. In addition, he questions what the term All-American means. The authors juxtapose these two protagonists: one white, one black, one labeled “All-American,” and the other a criminal, to force the reader to question the labels society uses to define people, and those labels' hidden racial undertones. Who qualifies as All-American? Which image of youth does America hold up as a model and which does it demonize?
“Never fight back. Never talk back. Keep your hands up. Keep your mouth shut. Just do what they ask you to do, and you’ll be fine.”
From a young age, Rashad and Spoony are taught by their father how to interact with the police. Understanding full well the consequences of real or perceived resistance to authority, their father tries to protect them by drilling into them to be deferential and do exactly as they’re told. He repeats himself so much that his advice became like a chant ingrained in Rashad’s head. Yet, despite his father’s belief that following the rules will protect his sons, Paul’s treatment of Rashad challenges that belief. His father has a hard time accepting it, instead interrogating Rashad to see if he did something to warrant Paul’s behavior.
I had to try to look everywhere else around the room except the one spot where I felt those eyes always watching. That’s why I preferred the to-go window; I couldn’t see those eyes blazing into me. Those eyes. My eyes. My dad’s eyes—in the photo the pizza guys had up on the wall.
At this moment, Quinn is at the local pizza spot and feels his father looking down at him from a photo on the wall. The photo is of his father in his Army uniform volunteering at a soup kitchen with the guys from the pizza shop. Quinn is uncomfortable with his father’s gaze. He feels that it’s bearing down on him, and tries to avoid looking at the photo. Quinn’s father served in the Army and was killed in Afghanistan when Quinn was just a kid, causing Quinn to grow up faster than many children. Since then, people in his community frequently talk about how Quinn’s father was a hero, to the point that Quinn experiences a great deal of pressure to live up to his legacy. Seeing the photo on the wall is a reminder of that responsibility and expectation.
“That’s not—It’s not—You just can’t go conflating things like that.” Then she pointed to the copy of the test she had in front of her. “This is for your benefit, “ she squeaked. “We don’t have time to talk about this right now.” She took another breath. “I’m sorry. I know there’s a student from our school who is in the hospital today, but we don’t have the full story.”
Ms. Webber, a white teacher at the high school, becomes increasingly uncomfortable when students bring up Rashad in her classroom. She does everything in her power to avoid the topic, and when students confront her about it she begins to stutter and get visibly rattled. Referencing what happened, she cannot even bring herself to use Rashad’s name, instead referring to him in general terms as “a student.” Her response reflects the silence many white people exhibit in the novel on questions of race—a silence that only perpetuates systemic racism. This is in direct contrast to the Black and Latino characters who are confronted every day with the reality of race in America.
“Not like KKK racist, I don’t think most people think they’re racist. But every time something like this happens, you could, like you said, say, ‘Not my problem.’ You could say, ‘It’s a one-time thing.’ Everytime it happened.”
Jill is key in helping Quinn process the act of police brutality he saw, and the reactions from people in his community. Part of this means grappling with the role racism played in Paul’s actions and the community debate unfolding around them. Jill points out that racism is often subtle, something many white characters in the novel have trouble recognizing and talking about. If one looks only at an individual event of police brutality, one will ignore the broader pattern: that subtle and overt acts of racism, stereotyping, and policing of Black people happen regularly. Due to this pattern, everyone—not just those directly involved in a specific event—is implicated.
“Get out of here. I know whose side you’re on. And I’m going to tell my brother how you don’t have his back. After all he did for you, man.”
Guzzo and Quinn are talking in the locker rooms after Guzzo gets elbowed in basketball practice by another player. Guzzo feels attacked—like everyone is out to get him because of what his brother did to Rashad. Guzzo is blindly loyal to his brother, defending him against accusations that he used excessive force or misjudged Rashad. Quinn tries to get Guzzo to see the other side, to open up his friend’s mind, but Guzzo won’t hear it. Guzzo expects Quinn to be loyal to Paul, to have his back against those who criticize his actions because of their history together. Guzzo is hurt and feels that Quinn is betraying him and his brother. Quinn’s position in the novel allows the authors to explore the theme of loyalty: can it bridge a political divide, and is there space to question the actions of those we love?
“Sometimes when people get treated as less than human, the best way to help them feel better is to simply treat them as human. Not as victims. Just you as you. Rashad Butler, before all this.”
Mrs. Fitzgerald let Rashad lie to her when they met in the hospital gift shop, saying he got hurt in a car accident, even though she knew the truth. Here, later on, Rashad questions her about why she accepted his story. She responds that what Rashad went through with Paul was dehumanizing; Paul violated Rashad’s rights, dignity, body, and voice. Now his story is being told all over the news where he also has no control over how others see him—as a victim or a criminal. Rashad is used as a symbol and rallying cry for police injustice and brutality against communities of color. While that is a powerful thing, Mrs. Fitzgerald recognizes that it’s easy for Rashad, the person, to get lost in the public debate. Treating him as an individual, separate from all of that, is a way of helping him heal, and feel more normal after all he’s been through.
“About four blocks ahead, slowly making its way up the street, was an enormous black vehicle—not a tank exactly, but it has six giant wheels, and its triangular metal nose looked designed to crash through concrete walls. One cop in all-black paramilitary gear stood in the lookout turret on top, and he surveyed the street as if he were looking for snipers.”
The day of the protest, Quinn sees a police tank rolling down the street. It’s enormous and intimidating. The incongruence of a military-style vehicle rolling down the street of his neighborhood shocks him. The message is a clear one, meant to intimidate and control the protesters. The authors showcase the militarization of police in the United States, and how often that military might is wielded against communities of color. The protest is a peaceful one, but the police show up ready for a riot: escalating tension and illustrating the protesters’ argument about excessive force and police brutality.
I locked eyes with a kid I didn’t know, but felt like I did. A white guy, who I could tell was thinking about those names too.
Separated for the entire novel, Quinn and Rashad meet eye to eye during the final scene. Everyone lies down on the ground for the die-in, putting their bodies on the line to protest police brutality and systemic racism against communities of color. At this moment, as the names of Black victims are being read off, Rashad and Quinn make eye contact. Rashad doesn’t know who Quinn is, or how their stories are interconnected, but he senses a familiarity in Quinn. They are both thinking about the long list of names: people who should be with them today, and what it means that they’re not.
