The Office of Historical Corrections - Danielle Evans

The regular reader of my blog (I'm sure you exist, dear friend) would know that I struggled with The City We Became, finding it too short, clichéd, and fantastical. The same friend would perhaps know that I recently started reading Hood Feminism by Mikki Kendall, which I find very angry and real and painful; I've had to put it on pause. But, as Goldilocks would have it, The Office of Historical Corrections conveys the same ideas in a way that's just right (for me). It is fiction that is realistic enough to convey the challenging lessons of Hood Feminism without the frustrating fantasy of The City We Became.

In short, I highly recommend this book!

Danielle Evans' book (containing a few short stories and the titular novella) delves into the lived experience of Black women with sensitivity and power. Each short story is a vignette of challenges and triumphs that are best understood through the eyes and words of someone living it. The novella ties these ideas together in a grand finale.

Through the power of story -- of riding along with the characters -- the reader is able to deeply empathize with topics that are extremely difficult to explain to those who haven't experienced them. For example, Evans' characters power through microaggressions,  family awkwardness (or hostility) due to mixed race, and being overlooked except as a sexual object. They overcome this by finding solidarity in family, friends, lovers, and (most importantly) themselves; but we understand that this solidarity is necessary because of the undeserved challenges that can come simply from one's skin color and gender. Combined with a distinct lack of full resolution or closure in each story, the reader is left to think of how things could be different, and how things could be better. What can we -- what can I -- do to build a world where people are less likely to suffer these indignities?

My favorite of the short stories is about a white college student, Claire, who wears a Confederate battle flag bikini just once, and rapidly becomes mired in college politics and her own lack of awareness when the picture ends up on the Internet. By narrating the story from Claire's limited perspective, Evans plays subtly with the character's emotions and interpretations of events. It would have been so easy to slip into a hackneyed white character full of hate, like a poster child for racism; instead Evans weaves a delicate story of ignorance and lack of empathy. We see how poor decision making, driven by a teen's foggy understanding and immature reactions, creates racist impact without racist intent. It is an immensely important lesson, and Evans conveys it perfectly.

The novella also stuck out to me as a particularly excellent piece of writing. It is a murder mystery set in a clever alternative reality. Our main character, Cassie, works for the US federal government's Institute for Public History (IPH), which is dubbed "The Office of Historical Corrections" by a newspaper attempting to be derogatory. Cassie is an ex-professor of history who leaves academia to work for the IPH as a field agent, publicly (but gently) correcting people and signs that make incorrect historical claims. The plot on its own is satisfying, but my favorite aspect of this story is its portrayal of academia. We learn of Cassie's passion for studying and teaching, her skill-or-luck in landing a tenure-track position, her academic rivalry with her childhood friend, and her ultimate disillusionment with the professor life. Similar to the grad school stories in How to Be An Antiracist, the novella gives the reader a feel for how rewarding and punishing it can be to be Black in academia. This is really hard to understand as a non-Black person, and asking Black academics to explain their entire lived experience is often a huge burden to place on them; so, stories like this one are absolutely critical to sharing and making accessible many facets of the Black academia experience.

While I've chosen to just focus on my favorites, every story in this collection is a good read. These stories let me to build my own empathy and feel for Black experiences in an accessible way, and I hope they can serve the same purpose for others. Get yourself a copy!