The New York Times Book Review - Jennifer Harlan
…All Boys Aren't Blue is an exuberant, unapologetic memoir infused with a deep but cleareyed love for its subjects. Johnson lays bare the darkest moments in his life with wit and unflinching vulnerability, from the bullying he suffered as a child to the losses of his cousin—an early model for him of what a joyful queer life could look like—his fraternity brother and his grandmother, who died as Johnson was working on the book and whose presence looms largest in it.
Publishers Weekly
04/20/2020
Billed as a “memoir-manifesto,” Johnson’s debut is a collection of heartfelt personal essays revolving around themes of identity and family. Growing up black and queer in New Jersey and Virginia, Johnson feels a tension between these two identities, even before he’s fully conceptualized what makes him stand out from others in his close-knit family. The loving Elder/Johnson clan, led by witty matriarch Nanny (whose take on familial loyalty and intimacy is “You might have to wipe my ass one day”), includes Johnson’s cousin Hope, a trans woman who models pride and self-determination. Johnson makes impassioned declarations about the importance of community and inclusive sex education, and the freedom to define oneself outside of society’s conditioning. Though at first glance the book lacks the synthesizing call to action that “manifesto” would imply, its “be yourself” message remains a radical stance for doubly marginalized individuals. Johnson’s writing is a stylistic hodgepodge of anecdotes (“story time,” he periodically declares) and letters to relatives. In a publishing landscape in need of queer black voices, readers who are sorting through similar concepts will be grateful to join him on the journey. 14–up. (Apr.)
From the Publisher
A New York Times Bestseller!
Optioned for television by Gabrielle Union
Featured on Good Morning America, NBC Nightly News, Today Show, MSNBC and Fox Soul
Velshi Banned Book Club
Amazon Best Book of the Year
CNN Summer Read Pick
Teen Vogue Recommended Read
Buzzfeed Recommended Read
People Magazine Best Book of the Summer
An Indie Bestseller
An ALA Rainbow List Pick
A New York Library Best Book of 2020
A Chicago Public Library Best Book of 2020
A Kirkus Reviews Best Book of 2020
Publishers Weekly Anti-Racist Reading List Pick
2021 Texas Topaz Nonfiction Reading List Pick
A Kids' Book Choice Award Finalist
#1 YALSA Teen's Top Ten List Winner
A Texas TAYSHAS Reading List Title
"An exuberant, unapologetic memoir infused with a deep but cleareyed love for its subjects." —The New York Times
"This title opens new doors, as the author insists that we don't have to anchor stories such as his to tragic ends: 'Many of us are still here. Still living and waiting for our stories to be told—to tell them ourselves.' A critical, captivating, merciful mirror for growing up Black and queer today." —Kirkus Reviews, starred review
"An absolute necessity . . . the personal stories and the healing and reconciliation of self in this title are all undeniably honest and relatable—a reminder of our shared imperfection and humanity." —Booklist
"The conversational tone will leave readers feeling like they are sitting with an insightful friend . . . This young adult memoir is a contemporary hallmark of the blossoming genre. Johnson anchors the text with encouragement and realistic guidance for queer Black youth." —School Library Journal
"Johnson’s debut is a collection of heartfelt personal essays revolving around themes of identity and family . . . In a publishing landscape in need of queer black voices, readers who are sorting through similar concepts will be grateful to join him on the journey." —Publishers Weekly
"Powerful . . . Johnson’s book is geared toward young adults—a market that needs this level of realness about everything from finding and harboring joy to bullying to navigating queerness. All Boys Aren’t Blue is a game changer." —Bitch Magazine
"A personal examination of what it's like to grow up as a black and queer young man . . . a can't-miss collection." —POPSUGAR
School Library Journal
05/01/2020
Gr 9 Up—Journalist and activist Johnson takes readers through his life from childhood through young adulthood, reflecting on how his identity as a queer Black boy was shaped, refracted, and often suppressed for his own safety. Growing up in New Jersey, Johnson recounts becoming aware of his "difference" and how it necessitated choices between who he was and who he felt pressured to be. Part memoir and part manifesto, the text infuses personal reflections with observations about white supremacy, toxic masculinity, homophobia, and how these concepts affected him, whether as a boy forced to choose football over double dutch at recess or as a fraternity pledge struggling to come out on campus. Separated into acts, the book describes different members of his community (family, teenagers, friends)—a stylistic demonstration of his valuable support system that occasionally makes the narrative choppy. Still, the various tangents don't detract from the book's power, and the conversational tone will leave readers feeling like they are sitting with an insightful friend. There are a few detailed depictions of sexual situations and an incident of sexual abuse by a family member. Johnson handles the painful, complicated feelings around this experience with an honesty and tone appropriate for the intended audience. VERDICT This young adult memoir is a contemporary hallmark of the blossoming genre. Johnson anchors the text with encouragement and realistic guidance for queer Black youth. Recommended for YA nonfiction collections where autobiographical and social justice titles are popular.—Ashleigh Williams, School Library Journal
MAY 2020 - AudioFile
Journalist and activist George M. Johnson tells their story about growing up a queer Black boy. The vivid memories Johnson revisits exhibit the dynamics of family, sexual discovery, and the sobering juxtaposition of navigating several identities. Johnson's easygoing pace and conversational language lend themselves to a deeper understanding of the queer experience, especially regarding gender identity, toxic masculinity, and marginalization. This memoir offers frank descriptions of bullying and explorations of societal expectations of Black men that will leave listeners thinking long after the audiobook finishes. An inspiring, bittersweet story that encourages queer people and their allies to believe that they deserve to exist in a world that seeks to shut them out. A.K.R. © AudioFile 2020, Portland, Maine
Kirkus Reviews
★ 2020-01-23
Centers the experiences, desires, and agency of a queer black boy navigating his evolving selfhood and the challenges of society’s conditional love for his truthful existence.
Queer black existence has been here forever, and yet rarely has that experience been spotlighted within literature aimed at black boyhood. This is the context in which this “memoir-manifesto” begins, as Johnson, a still relatively young 33-year-old journalist and activist, debuts his unfolding life story within a vacuum of representation. These stories wrestle with “joy and pain...triumph and tragedy” across many heavy topics—gender policing, sexual abuse, institutional violence—but with a view to freedom on the horizon. Through the witnessing of Johnson’s intimate accounts, beginning with his middle-class New Jersey childhood and continuing through his attendance at a historically black university in Virginia, readers are invited on their own paths to healing, self-care, and living one’s truth. Those who see themselves outside the standpoint of being black and queer are called in toward accountability, clarifying an understanding of the history, language, and actions needed to transform the world—not in pity for the oppressed but in the liberation of themselves. This title opens new doors, as the author insists that we don’t have to anchor stories such as his to tragic ends: “Many of us are still here. Still living and waiting for our stories to be told—to tell them ourselves.”
A critical, captivating, merciful mirror for growing up black and queer today. (Memoir. 14-adult)
