*Given a copy from the publisher in exchange for an honest review*
One of Our Kind by Nicola Yoon is a slow-burn psychological thriller set in a Black utopia where race is no longer a barrier, but when some characters seek to improve race relations outside the utopia, they notice their neighbors eerily avoid the topic of race.
Jasmyn is a Black woman carrying the world’s weight on her shoulders. Besides being a wife to King, a former teacher, and a mother to six-year-old Kamau, she is a civil rights attorney worrying about her cases and the ones that make the news. Those cases, like the one involving a young Black girl named Mercy Simpson being shot by police, have her wanting to stay rooted in her Los Angeles community. But King wants to move to Liberty, California.
Over the last few years, King has transitioned his career from public education to finance. This has elevated the family to a new income bracket. Now, they can move to Liberty, which is 100% Black and high-income. Located on the outskirts of Los Angeles, Liberty is the brainchild of Carlton Way, a financial entrepreneur who happens to also be King’s mentor. Jasmyn is unsure about the mansion life, but King convinces her that it is the next step for their expanding family. Since she is pregnant with their second child, Jasmyn finally approves the move. She can’t wait to be around her own people and not worry about the weight of the world at home as a Black woman.
Right away, Jasmyn notices a coldness among her new Liberty neighbors. She brings up the developments in the Mercy Simpson case, and her neighbors don’t seem concerned. They may be too relaxed with their wealth and addiction to the wellness center atop the hill. She notices them meditating up there in their robes, and it doesn’t sit right with her.
The only neighbor who shares Jasmyn’s concern is Keisha, who’s also Kamau’s teacher at the local elementary school. Keisha also detects the coldness and prefers to stay away from the wellness center, though her wife frequents the center. Together, they decide to start a Black Lives Matter chapter to raise awareness about the Mercy Simpson case and other future cases. They meet another neighbor, Charles, who wants to start the chapter based on his same interpretations of Liberty. He, too, doesn’t trust the wellness center that his wife loves.
Then, suddenly, Charles changes his mind about starting a BLM chapter. He even cuts off his dreadlocks and sells his Afrocentric art collection. These moves bewilder Jasmyn and Keisha. They move forward with their plans. Then, Keisha changes her mind as well, now that she straightens her natural hair and wears neutral-toned business suits — a far cry from her Afro, colorful clothing, and large gold hoop earrings.
Jasmyn is now the only one left standing. King won’t completely commit to opening the chapter with her or volunteering with Black youth like he used to when they lived in the city limits. Everyone seems to be addicted to the wellness center. Jasmyn has stayed away because she’s pregnant and doesn’t want any treatment to harm the baby. But King loves going to the wellness center. Things are not adding up. Using her court connections, Jasmyn hires a private investigator to see what happened to the last family who lived in her mansion. The family had only stayed for a year. Why buy a house for only a year? The more she finds out, the more she feels she’s in danger.
The idea of a utopia was coined by Thomas More in his 1516 classic Utopia. He created the word “utopia” from ancient Greek, which translates to “not a place.” So, if a housing development or closed-off community boasts that it is a utopia, then there is already a reason to run in horror. The book garnered some online criticism for creating a story around a Black utopia that ends in giving in to the racism of the outside world. Without giving too many spoilers, the ending becomes a Get Out-esque situation. The utopia is flawed from the roots because it targets certain people and convinces them to be in a social experiment when reality seems too overwhelming.
With the utopia, the novel taps into the monolithic definition of Blackness. One of the main examples is showing Jasmyn’s desperation to unite her neighbors to start a BLM chapter. The real-life controversial organization works to protect Black lives across the diaspora, but not every Black person supports the mission and its activities. Jasmyn assumes every Black person is in agreement with feeling upset over a police brutality case, and that’s not the case in Liberty. But that’s what makes the hairs on her arms stand up? In this politically charged society, it may feel safer for many Americans to live in communities that share their values, and Jasmyn is realizing she did not move into a like-minded community. Other examples emphasize the monolithic falsehoods within the African American community, such as Keisha wearing her Afro and hoop earrings, which means she’s down for the cause. And when her style changes, that is the telltale that she is not down anymore. While other characters seem cold for ignoring the Mercy Simpson case and straightening their African curls, it feeds into the stereotype that all Black Americans feel the same way about certain issues by their vocal expression and outward appearance. How the characters are constructed with simplicity may distract some readers expecting a complex racial thriller.
Overall, the simplicity also speaks to the author’s transition from the young adult genre to the adult genre. In YA, character and story development must be easier for a young reader to follow. We see the same pattern in this adult book, though the tension between the characters and unfolding events still make it a page-turner.
