Racism and Classism Theme Analysis

Although Another Brooklyn doesn’t explicitly spotlight the direct impact of racism on August’s life, the novel plays out against a backdrop of prejudice and tense race relations. At first glance, August’s life seems somewhat unaffected by the racism and bigotry of the 1970s despite the fact that she’s black—possibly because the novel primarily focuses on her relationships with other black people. However, many of the interactions she has in her predominantly African American community hint at the ways in which prejudice and racism have impacted so much of her daily life. For example, the significant presence of the Nation of Islam in her neighborhood is a testament to how eager many of her community members are to take a stand against racism, considering that the organization is a separatist movement. Furthermore, August encounters a different kind of prejudice when her friend Sylvia’s elitist father demonstrates his classist beliefs by forbidding August, Angela, and Gigi from spending time with his daughter. He does this largely because they live in poverty and, in his mind, they exemplify the stereotypes about black people that he wants so desperately to avoid. Consequently, he paradoxically turns a racist eye on them in order to protect his own daughter from racism. As a result, readers see that, though the novel’s focus isn’t necessarily on the bigotry August faces, such matters are unfortunately impossible to avoid. With this in mind, Woodson implies that even when people of color don’t seem to experience overt discrimination, their communities and relationships are still inevitably affected by racism and divisiveness.

The Nation of Islam plays a subtle though significant role in August’s predominantly black community. Founded in Detroit in 1930, this religious and political movement taught that white people are a race of devils that antagonize black people, who are the origins of all humankind. Moreover, the Nation of Islam advocated for a separation of white people and black people in the United States with the goal of establishing an all-black nation or territory—they claimed that white America owed African American people at least this much after oppressing them for so long. With this in mind, the fact that so many people in August’s community belong to the Nation of Islam suggests that they align with the organization’s ideas about separatism. This is especially noteworthy because Woodson doesn’t call attention to any overt examples of white-on-black racism, instead focusing on August’s everyday life in a predominantly black neighborhood. And yet, the mere knowledge that so many people around her align with a separatist movement highlights just how heavily racism weighs on her community, even if it’s not immediately detectable in the pages of Another Brooklyn. Indeed, it’s quite possible that August’s fellow Brooklynites have gravitated toward the Nation of Islam not only out of a sense of religious calling, but also as a response to the bigotry and racism they’ve faced throughout their lives.

The pervasive presence of the Nation of Islam is not the only sign that August’s community struggles under the weight of discrimination. August’s social life also suffers because of the classism of Sylvia’s father, an erudite black man who lives with his family (all of whom are also black) in an impressive home. When August and her two other friends first go to Sylvia’s house, they feel extremely uncomfortable because they are painfully aware that Sylvia’s parents are judging their old clothing and making negative assumptions about their home lives. In fact, Sylvia’s father even interviews them, asking who their parents are and what they do for a living. Of course, this kind of classism might not seem racially-inflected, since people of all races unfairly judge their children’s friends because they don’t think they meet a certain standard. However, the classism set forth by Sylvia’s parents—and especially her father—is obviously tied to their thoughts about how their daughter will fare in a racist world. While grilling them with questions, Sylvia’s father asks August and the others if they understand “the Negro problem in America,” a reference to The Negro Problem, a collection of essays by black writers like W. E. B. DuBois and Booker T. Washington that advocates for disenfranchised African Americans to take responsibility for their own empowerment. Sylvia’s father also asks if they understand that it is “up to [them] to rise above,” a question that highlights his concern that these particular young women might not be able to “rise above” racism and discrimination. And as if this doesn’t make it clear enough that Sylvia’s family is subjecting August, Angela, and Gigi to the same unjust scrutiny that racist white people turn on the black community, Sylvia’s older sister later hears her laughing with her friends and slaps Sylvia across the face, saying, “Don’t try to act like a dusty, dirty black American.” In this moment, it becomes overwhelmingly evident that Sylvia’s family has great disdain for other black people, internalizing racist stereotypes about African American people and weaponizing them against their own community members.

In turn, Woodson manages once more to reveal the many ways in which August is forced to face bigotry. More importantly, though, she portrays racism as something that is deeply engrained in August’s community, rendering it tragically inescapable even in a novel that largely focuses on other matters—a representation of the staggering shadow that discrimination casts.