A Beautiful Ghetto. Devin Allen. 2017. Haymarket Books. 121 pages. [Source: ARC provided courtesy of Edelweiss Above the Treeline.]
I had chills while reading A Beautiful Ghetto. Part of it was seeing beautiful Black faces in environments that seem anything but that, based on social standards. Allen, however, captures everyday life in Baltimore with a brutal honesty that is truly compelling. There are pictures of children lounging on a rowhouse’s marble steps. Men in a barber shop. Dirt bike riders showing off tricks. Some images are less savory, though. Boarded up rowhouses. Vacant lots filled with debris. A streetside memorial.
Allen also presents pain through images of the April 2015 uprisings in response the death of Freddie Gray, a young Black man who died from injuries sustained while in police custody. These are harder to look at — there’s an acute sense of pain, anger, and frustration conveyed that take me back to the days I wanted the uprising unfold from my living room only an hour away from Baltimore. The juxtaposition of destroyed property, police positioned in opposition against activists and protesters, and visible pain alongside hope shown through poignant signs, crowds of marchers, and impassioned speakers is powerful.
The book actually starts with many forewords. One is from a Baltimorean author, a Princeton professor, an anti-poverty activist & entrepreneur, a Smithsonian curator, and the author’s mother. All convey how special and necessary a book such as this really is. It is an opportunity for Baltimore to have a voice; for it to present its truth in its own words to a world that largely sits back and judges from what is seen in the news and other media. The book also features introductory poems from Tariq Toure, also of Baltimore. Together, these words pull together a sense of purpose to this work — it puts the story back into the hands of those who lived it.
Allen’s photographs have been described as “a window into the heart of the frustration and outrage of a community in response to police brutality not only in their own city, but nationwide” by the Gordon Parks Foundation, where his work was on exhibition. Allen’s ability to convey the pain and fatigue of the Baltimore community is remarkable and simultaneously hard to see but impossible to turn from. In the author’s own words, A Beautiful Ghetto is “a visual story of the uprising … a challenge to the stigma, to show the beautiful side of the ghetto.” Allen absolutely accomplishes this. While his images don’t sugarcoat the reality of Baltimore’s Black neighborhoods, they do show its humanity, unity, and unwavering resilience.
Would I recommend this book? I already have to every Baltimore native I know, and will continue to sing its praises.
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