Thug Life Meant: The Hate U Give Little Infants F---s Everybody

~The Hate U Give~
By Angie Thomas
Amazon ~ Powell's

Sixteen-year-old Starr Carter moves between two worlds: the poor neighborhood where she lives and the fancy suburban prep school she attends. The uneasy balance between these worlds is shattered when Starr witnesses the fatal shooting of her childhood best friend Khalil at the hands of a police officer. Khalil was unarmed.

Soon afterward, his death is a national headline. Some are calling him a thug, maybe even a drug dealer and a gangbanger. Protesters are taking to the streets in Khalil's name. Some cops and the local drug lord try to intimidate Starr and her family. What everyone wants to know is: what really went down that night? And the only person alive who can answer that is Starr.

But what Starr does or does not say could upend her community. It could also endanger her life.


I actually read this book a couple years ago, during my reading/reviewing hiatus. It was somewhat freeing, being able to read what I wanted without hyping up, defending, or analyzing my choices. I got through some good series that way. But I also know I took the easy way out when it came to this book. My GoodReads review was 3 sentences, basically saying everyone should read it for its message. After the tumult of 2020, I know that wasn't enough. So here I am, back again, revisiting Starr, Khalil, and the now three-year-old story that still feels like it could happen tomorrow.

If the book I read last week, SLAY, was an introduction to Black struggles in America, this one is like cranking the volume up to eleven. Whereas SLAY was perhaps more palatable with its focus on the main character's life in an upper-middle-class family and the media storm and potential legal backlash surrounding a video game, The Hate U Give dives straight into the projects, gang violence, police brutality, all while featuring a teenager struggling to find her own voice, her own place as she maneuvers though living in the lower class neighbor hood, attending an upper-class prep school, having an ex-gang, ex-con father, dating a white boyfriend, and now being the sole witness to a policeman's murder of her childhood friend.

This is not a "fun" book to read. It's a fantastic book, one of my favorites, but I definitely wouldn't call it fun. I cried as early as chapter 2. I had forgotten how visceral the scene with Khalil was, and I unwittingly tried to read it at work. Luckily, I was already locked up, taking a final breather before making my way home, cause it was an ugly cry. And there were more tears to follow as Starr suffered PTSD flashbacks, Khalil's family grieved, and more and more reflections of our current city streets came up.

No, this isn't what I would call a fun read, but that doesn't mean it doesn't have its fun moments. Whether it's playing basketball with friends, ribbing her little brother, or enjoying the normalcy of prom, there are small, poignant moments of light in the darkness. And these moments serve not only to break up the stressful overarching story, but to help humanize and ground that story. Starr is a normal teenager going through normal teenage stuff, and even with all the crazy, messed-up shit going on around her, she is no less human, no less deserving of empathy than anyone else, regardless of her family, her neighborhood, or her skin tone.

I want to share a passage that helps explain the title of the book. It's also where I took the title of this review from. Not only does it spotlight many of the topics this story is about, but it hit me hard with its truth. It might be considered a bit of an info dump, going into history and politics with no bells and whistles, but it's one of my favorite passages. However, the whole thing is nearly two whole pages from the book so I've toggled it in a spoiler box. It's not really a spoiler per-say, but it is from about halfway through the book, so I suppose you can skip if you don't want any early information whatsoever.

“’Pac rapped ’bout that stuff too, yeah, but he also cared ’bout uplifting black people,” says Daddy. “Like he took the word ‘nigga’ and gave it a whole new meaning—Never Ignorant Getting Goals Accomplished. And he said Thug Life meant—”

“The Hate U Give Little Infants F---s Everybody,” I censor myself. This is my daddy I’m talking to, you know?

“You know ’bout that?”

“Yeah. Khalil told me what he thought it means. We were listening to Tupac right before . . . you know.”

“A’ight, so what do you think it means?”

“You don’t know?” I ask.

“I know. I wanna hear what you think.”

Here he goes. Picking my brain. “Khalil said it’s about what society feeds us as youth and how it comes back and bites them later,” I say. “I think it’s about more than youth though. I think it’s about us, period.”

“Us who?” he asks.

“Black people, minorities, poor people. Everybody at the bottom in society.”

“The oppressed,” says Daddy.

“Yeah. We’re the ones who get the short end of the stick, but we’re the ones they fear the most. That’s why the government targeted the Black Panthers, right? Because they were scared of the Panthers?”

“Uh-huh,” Daddy says. “The Panthers educated and empowered the people. That tactic of empowering the oppressed goes even further back than the Panthers though. Name one.”

Is he serious? He always makes me think. This one takes me a second. “The slave rebellion of 1831,” I say. “Nat Turner empowered and educated other slaves, and it led to one of the biggest slave revolts in history.”

“A’ight, a’ight. You on it.” He gives me dap. “So, what’s the hate they’re giving the ‘little infants’ in today’s society?”

“Racism?”

“You gotta get a li’l more detailed than that. Think ’bout Khalil and his whole situation. Before he died.”

“He was a drug dealer.” It hurts to say that. “And possibly a gang member.”

“Why was he a drug dealer? Why are so many people in our neighborhood drug dealers?”

I remember what Khalil said—he got tired of choosing between lights and food. “They need money,” I say. “And they don’t have a lot of other ways to get it.”

“Right. Lack of opportunities,” Daddy says. “Corporate America don’t bring jobs to our communities, and they damn sure ain’t quick to hire us. Then, shit, even if you do have a high school diploma, so many of the schools in our neighborhoods don’t prepare us well enough. That’s why when your momma talked about sending you and your brothers to Williamson, I agreed. Our schools don’t get the resources to equip you like Williamson does. It’s easier to find some crack than it is to find a good school around here.

“Now, think ’bout this,” he says. “How did the drugs even get in our neighborhood? This is a multibillion-dollar industry we talking ’bout, baby. That shit is flown into our communities, but I don’t know anybody with a private jet. Do you?”

“No.”

“Exactly. Drugs come from somewhere, and they’re destroying our community,” he says. “You got folks like Brenda, who think they need them to survive, and then you got the Khalils, who think they need to sell them to survive. The Brendas can’t get jobs unless they’re clean, and they can’t pay for rehab unless they got jobs. When the Khalils get arrested for selling drugs, they either spend most of their life in prison, another billion-dollar industry, or they have a hard time getting a real job and probably start selling drugs again. That’s the hate they’re giving us, baby, a system designed against us. That’s Thug Life.”

“I hear you, but Khalil didn’t have to sell drugs,” I say. “You stopped doing it.”

“True, but unless you’re in his shoes, don’t judge him. It’s easier to fall into that life than it is to stay outta it, especially in a situation like his. Now, one more question.”

“Really?” Damn, he’s messed with my head enough.

“Yeah, really,” he mocks in a high voice. I don’t even sound like that. “After everything I’ve said, how does Thug Life apply to the protests and the riots?”

I have to think about that one for a minute. “Everybody’s pissed ’cause One-Fifteen hasn’t been charged,” I say, “but also because he’s not the first one to do something like this and get away with it. It’s been happening, and people will keep rioting until it changes. So I guess the system’s still giving hate, and everybody’s still getting fucked?”

Daddy laughs and gives me dap. “My girl. Watch your mouth, but yeah, that’s about right. And we won’t stop getting fucked till it changes. That’s the key. It’s gotta change.”

A lump forms in my throat as the truth hits me. Hard. “That’s why people are speaking out, huh? Because it won’t change if we don’t say something.”

“Exactly. We can’t be silent.”

Thomas, Angie. The Hate U Give (pp. 168-170). HarperCollins. Kindle Edition.

Honestly, this is only one of nearly 40 passages I highlighted in this book. Feel free to click here if you want to see some more powerful writing, much of which directly mirrors scenes we've seen on TV and Facebook just in the last few weeks.

I feel like I'm angry in this review, and I don't want to be. I want to express how important this book is, how real it is, how I think everybody could and should read it to get an idea about what is going on—what is still going on in America with police and black people and gangs and inequality. But, as I stated at the beginning of this review, this story is three years old—heck, the movie's been out for almost two years, now—and nothing has changed. So, yeah, I guess I'm angry that I've read this book twice, two full years between them, and the problems have only gotten more publicized, more views, but they're still happening. Hell, this happened last night in my hometown.

So, yeah, I'm angry, but not at this book. I love this book. I'm grateful for this book. I'm heartbroken that the events depicted are as true to life as they are. The end of the book features a list of names of some of the police's murder victims that have come out in the last few years: Oscar, Aiyana, Trayvon, Rekia, Michael, Eric, Tamir, John, Ezell, Sandra, Freddie, Alton, Philando, and Emmett. We now have to add Ahmaud and Manuel and Breonna and George and no doubt others that have yet to rise above the din.

So, before I devolve into more rants and tears, overall The Hate U Give is an important look at the world around us. It's not full of statistics, or historical research, but it does give readers a look at the hard truth that exists in American cities all over the country. Your own experiences may be far away from Starr's, mine certainly were, but isn't that the purpose of reading stories in the first place? While this may not be the kind of escape many are looking for, I felt some catharsis reading about some of the motivations behind the current protests as well as the hope to move forward. And I hope Starr's story can shine a little light in the darkness we're all struggling through right now.