This collection of poems proves to me that memory is fuzzy and subjective. Tricia Knoll was my next door neighbor from the time I was 4 years old until we both graduated high school. And although some of what she writes about I remember and agree with, other incidences I recall differently. Whether I experienced the events the same way Tricia did, made no difference, however, in my appreciation of her poetry. Her writing is clear, vivid and unpretentious. “The Night I Didn’t Stand Up” and “Let’s Hear It for the Horses” will resonate with many no matter where or when you grew up.
I’m not a huge reader of poetry, so I don’t feel confident critiquing How I Learned to Be White, but I certainly enjoyed reading it.