... wholehearted.

... uses the trope of little Black girls inventing and reinventing themselves at certain points in history to help define the era and the country. Through the stories of three generations of women, Turner has given us a tutorial of urban decay, White privilege, poor city planning and the influence of fads and digital advances on Black urban teenagers.

Turner's vivid recollections of her girlhood in Bronzeville ground Three Girls from Bronzeville in the experiences of those in the Chicago neighborhood, as Turner expertly combines memoir and social history in her analysis of the many systems that made Bronzeville into the place it is today--and how those same oppressive systems shape the lives of even society's youngest neighbors..

Turner vividly recounts the neighborhood’s atmosphere and history, framing the ongoing struggles of Black women.

... absorbing.

... immersive and often heartbreaking.

Drawing on hundreds of hours of interviews, Turner reconstructs decades-old scenes and verbatim dialogue that build on stories she first told in the Tribune and on NPR. The high point of her narrative comes in an extended account of Debra’s successful reconciliation meeting in prison with relatives of the man she killed. Some of the potential impact of the book leaches away in repetitive or overwritten accounts of the author’s conversations with sources, which often include needless details or pleasantries such as, 'Thank you for making time for me.' Nonetheless, this book offers hope to anyone who wonders whether, after a terrible crime, attempts at reconciliation are worth it. Turner doesn’t sugarcoat the difficulties, but she leaves no doubt that—when the process works—the gains are vast.