Good Morning!
I have this thing, and I’m a little bit ashamed to admit it. Social justice makes me cry. What could I possible mean by that, you wonder? I mean it quite literally: whenever I watch a film, read a book, or, honestly, watch the news and there is a story about people banding together in the name of fighting for their rights, it makes me cry. It could be a completely ordinary day, I’m not hormonal or stressed or anything, and then I’ll hear about people rising up to fight back against oppression; instant waterworks. After much analysing, I’ve come to the conclusion that it’s a combination of outrage at injustice that evokes strong emotions in my body and a sense of awe and gratitude at the people refusing to accept the way things are and fighting for a better world for all of us.

Now you might think that I have only ever watched from the sidelines, but no, at protests, when there’s a good chant going, I’ll tear up, too—it doesn’t keep me from marching on. And even when I write about such movements do I get emotional. Honestly, it’s incredible and I think it should be awe-inspiring when an oppressed group of people come together and decide that enough is enough, that their position needs to be seen and their needs deserve to be met. We owe everything to social justice movements, and I never want to be numb to that.
The book I reviewed for today is about social justice as much as it is a YA novel, so for me, it was an emotional up and down, crying at historical facts and then reading about teenagers making out in grungy basements. Fun!
Review: True Biz, by Sara Nović
Sara Nović’s True Biz skillfully integrates drama, romance, history, and social justice. Set at a fictional Deaf school, the novel follows three protagonists: February, the school’s headmistress; Austin, the school’s golden boy; and Charlie, a new student and novice at ASL.
Charlie is deaf, her parents are hearing, and under the guidance of doctors and plagued by the need to keep up appearances, they deprived her of sign language for most of her childhood. After a long struggle with a poorly working cochlear implant, her parents agree to let Charlie attend River Valley School for the Deaf, where she learns ASL for the first time. Left to her own devices at the boarding school, Charlie is quickly immersed in the new language, though of course it takes time to become fluent at any language and moving from spoken to signed language is quite a shift. To ensure a swift integration into the student body, February assigns Austin to help Charlie settle in. Austin comes from a long line of Deaf family, he signs fluently, and Deaf pride was instilled in him from infancy. For Charlie, this is all new, and in lessons with February, who is a child of Deaf adults (CODA), she learns about Deaf history, about the Deaf President Now movement, about disability justice and the horrific injustices and assaults waged on Deaf children.
As she struggles with a malfunctioning implant, Charlie soon becomes quite anti-implant, and views them as audist tools of oppression. In spending time with her crush from her old school, Slash, Charlie is exposed to drugs, heavy metal music, and anarchism. She becomes more and more critical of the powers that be. Austin and Charlie both struggle against the hearing hegemony in their families; Austin’s father is hearing and wants to implant his newborn sister, and Charlie’s mother wants to force another implant on her after the first literally electrocuted her. They’re also confronted with the school district’s neglect of Deaf students and make plans to fight back. Their political education and their rage are framed by a love triangle—it is, after all, a YA novel—but the romance serves the purpose of building Charlie’s character as somewhat rebellious and anti-normative. I’m here for it. But more so than the romance, I was intrigued by Nović’s way of politicising these teens through their relationships, teaching each other and egging each other on. They soon become quite a radical group of friends.
February has her own issues, and of course, her own love triangle. She lives with her wife and her mother, who suffers from dementia, so February is dealing with feelings of loss. At the same time, she has to fight against the school board, can’t communicate with her wife and instead turns to her ex, a teacher at the school, and finds herself somewhat trapped between hearing and Deaf worlds.
The narrative is interspersed with the lessons Charlie receives from February: ASL grammar, signs, and slang as well as Deaf history lessons (including Black Deaf history, which I must admit I previously knew nothing about). I really loved how the educational aspect was interwoven with the storyline and was able to follow along better with Charlie’s process of learning all this information. True Biz was quite unique in that way, and while I feel like Nović packed a few too many story lines in there, it was overall a great read. I felt invested in each of the story lines but wasn’t fully on board with the tempo, the ending felt a little rushed, but then again, teenagers can be rash. I would definitely recommend it though, and not only for the education most of us hearing folks desperately need when it comes to Deaf history.
Coincidentally, I just finished reading True Biz when I saw that Apple TV released a documentary about the Deaf President Now movement and obviously had to watch it right away. It’s a solid documentary, directed by Nyle DiMarco (though unfortunately not starring Nyle DiMarco), and chronicles what was not just a student protest at Gallaudet, but a movement for disability justice. I definitely recommend giving it a watch, it’s quite well done and very informative. And yes, of course I cried.
In case you missed it: my edited volume about Stone Butch Blues came out recently, you can read it here (free pdf) or read my post that gives some context here.
Thanks for reading, see you next time!
Very cool, I definitely want to check out "True Biz" now. Deaf culture is so rich and I love a story that centers that.
Also, heavy relate on crying at protests. I've also cried at pep rallies (used to be a HS teacher.) Most recently I will cry intensely if I think too much about Laika, the dog the Russians sent to space. That's not wildly related, but in case you want anything else to tear up about.
Wow — this seems like an amazing novel. Seems to have a lot in common with the movie Sound of Metal — have you seen it? It’s a great film.