Using Books as Medicine

By Royal Star/Kokayi Nosakhere

At 2 pm, three days before the 2024 Kwanzaa holiday began, I did it again. I have a habit. It is such an obsession, I am forced to confess my failings to resist it multiple times a week on social media. Because I am a nerd, I like books. READING! No, let me be clear. I like reading. Books just happen to be my favorite way of reading.

As a life hack, I search out used bookstores near colleges and universities. The reason why should be obvious: the quality of books. For me, the commercial market can not compete with books published in certain time periods by those who lived through those time periods. The closer to a diary, i.e. primary document, the better. Meaning, grandma’s letters about the Great Depression are more valuable to me than a professor’s summary of the Great Depression, even if the professor is weaving in all of the angles: political, economic and social.

For my standards, Smith Family Bookstore is a gem. It is located in the railroad tracks, in the heart of historic downtown Eugene, Oregon. Two massive floors of books in the warehouse district and the University of Oregon is not far away. (Go Ducks!) Perfect.

I ran an errand at the Health and Human Services Department because I need to secure services before the advent of the second Trump Administration. Winter time in Oregon means rain, so, I quickened my step, walking two blocks to Smith Family.

“Next. Good day. How are you? Did you find everything okay?” The clerks look Gen X, grey, like me. Most of the time when I enter this late in the day there is a line. We customers routinely chuckle as a frustrated clerk has to tell someone, “No, we are not accepting books for trade at this time.” Laughter always follows these phone calls because we are literally looking at six foot stacks of unshelved books.

I traveled a significant flight of stairs (more than one story) to the African American studies section. I found a Gen X-looking European American woman there. The Fall semester is over, so there are copies of the same book stacked on the floor.  She was trying not to step on them as she reached, trying to access the shelves.

I noticed a stack of Ida B. Wells’ writing. I bought a copy just before embarking on the “Distribute the Medicine” tour. The collection is of three Wells most popular pamphlets detailing the nascent lynching campaign against Black bodies starting in the early 1890s.

I also noticed a number of newly published books on the shelves. But, I did not look at the new book price. I don’t get the point of seeing brand-new published books inside of a used bookstore. Seems counterproductive to the entire business model.

Then, I saw a book that looked old. Published in 1972, the cover presented itself the way a marketing company back then would advise. (Earl Nightingale and Napoleon Hill approved!) 

Apparently, Yale professor James P. Comer, M.D. had something valuable to say about European American psychology. And, it was so valued that the American Psychological Association reviewed the book and supports the contents to this day.

The European American woman heard my squeal of discovery and asked to see the book. I greeted them in the name of the holidays, “Happy Kwanzaa,” before giving the book to her. The title and subject, of course, led to us briefly discussing the Presidential election results. Both of us marveled at how millions of European Americans consciously choose to practice white supremacy.

The discussion helped draw my eye to a book by Diane McWhorter. “Why do I know that name?” I asked out loud.

“I think she is a journalist. I remember seeing her on TV,” the European American woman said.

This piqued my interest. And, my fellow book nerd was correct. Not only is Diane McWhorter a journalist, she was alive and living in Birmingham, Alabama when the Civil Rights Movement events in her book happened.

I opened up the book and read the preface, “Like the spiritual from which the title is taken, this book is about death, redemption, and race. It builds to the national turning point known in history as the Year of Birmingham, 1963, when two things happened there, in the country’s most segregated city, that brought about the end of apartheid in America.” Yep. Sold!

Since both books were within my budget, I reached for another. This one was published by Temple University in 1991 when I was in high school. I picked it because of the case studies used to describe the principles of community organizing. Haywood County, Tennessee. Lee County, Arkansas. Lowndes County, Alabama. The Sea Islands of South Carolina. I know these locations from them being referenced in the Civil Rights Movement timeline. Here was a book with the biographies and written words of those who did not make the national history books.

The entire idea that European Americans are the “oppressors” inside of the United States racial caste system is a controversial idea in 2024. It wasn’t so controversial in 1959, which is where this book starts on page 19. And, it is a struggle for Gen X - whether European American or BIPoC - to accept that millions of United States citizens want to practice white supremacy. For the book, “Ain’t Gonna Let Nobody Turn Me Round: The Pursuit of Racial Justice in the Rural South” that concept is fully accepted.

I almost did not select the final book. Why? The price. It was $30. That is normally what I spend in total. However, the title was very appetizing: “The black Power Imperative.” And, wait for it, it is authored by a “white man!” It is an 866-page, step-by-step, plan for how Black people can use economics and politics to overcome the oppression of “white people.” 

The fact that those who support the concept of “white allies” can not refute this kind of evidence that Black people need the power to tell European Americans “no,” is worth more than $30.

My fellow book nerd laughed at my finds. She gathered her small collection and we both journeyed down the long flight of stairs to the clerk.

“Thank you for being here. Thank you for having these books,” I said.

The clerk smiled. When they checked in the books, there was a look of missed opportunity which played across their face. A look which said, “Damn, we had that?”

Yes, you did. Now, I have these ideas.

The entire purpose of the “Distribute the Medicine tour” is to acknowledge that European Americans made a conscious decision on November 5, 2024. It was a decision to actively, and confidently, practice white supremacy. There is something we can do about that decision. We do not have to accept oppression flowing off our hands or receive the oppression flowing off the hands of our fellow citizens.

While I do read these books for enjoyment, I also read them because there is medicine in them. I invite you over the next few entries to follow the origin story of this movement.

And, lastly, I invite you to join us.