Excerpt from All American Boys

Dad was all about discipline and believed that if you work hard, good things happen to you no matter what.

Of course, part of working hard, to him, was looking the part, dressing the part, and speaking the part, which Spoony didn’t really vibe with.

Spoony had, I don’t know, maybe eight or nine locs sprouting from
his head like antennae. Thick and matted like strips of carpet, but I always thought they looked pretty cool.

Dad . . . not so much. They’ll think
you’re doing drugs, he’d say.

Spoony’s clothes were always two (or three
or four) sizes too big. That was just his style. That was pretty much his whole generation’s style. Nineties hip-hop, gritty, realness. Wu-Tang. Biggie. Hoodies and unlaced boots.

They’ll think you’re selling drugs, Dad would say. Why can’t you get a haircut? Why can’t you dress like a respectable adult? Why can’t you set an example for your brother? Huh, son? Why?

And because Spoony was tired of explaining himself, and Dad was asking him to change, they kept their conversations short and sweet. Like Spoony greeting him, “Dad,” head nod. Followed by Dad saying, “Spoony,” head nod. And that was that.

Untitled Slide

TRY THIS (as quickly and as specifically

• Write out anything that comes to mind when you read this excerpt.

as you can for five minutes)

• Think about, and write out, the things parents or grandparents or friends say to you about your clothing, your hair, or the way you act. A scene where you might disagree. Show us one scene, one conversation.