Ta-Nehisi Coates’s The Message feels less like a book and more like a conversation—one you didn’t know you needed. It’s part memoir, part travel diary, and part pep talk for anyone who’s ever tried to put their thoughts into words and make sense of the world. Across three essays, Coates takes us with him to Dakar, Senegal; Columbia, South Carolina; and the Middle East. Each stop is an invitation to sit with history, wrestle with identity, and think about the stories we tell—both to ourselves and to others.
From the start, Coates makes it clear this isn’t just for him. These essays are his way of keeping a promise to his Howard University writing students, but they feel just as much for anyone trying to leave the world a little better than they found it. His visit to Gorée Island in Senegal, a place tied to the transatlantic slave trade, hits hard. You can feel the weight of his emotions, the kind that don’t have an easy name but linger long after you’ve left. It’s a reminder that good writing starts with feeling—real, raw, and sometimes overwhelming.
Closer to home, in South Carolina, Coates dives into a school board’s attempt to ban his book, Between the World and Me. The reason? Some students felt uncomfortable reading it, saying it made them question their racial identity. But here’s the thing—stories aren’t meant to make us feel cozy. They’re meant to make us think, to shift something inside us. And that’s exactly what happened when a teacher stood their ground, using Coates’s book to teach persuasive writing. It’s a powerful moment that shows how stories can challenge us in ways that lead to growth.
The final essay brings us to the Middle East, where Coates draws parallels between the struggles of Palestinians and the experiences of Black Americans. The echoes are undeniable—displacement, oppression, the constant fight to exist in spaces that seem built to push you out. But Coates is quick to step back, recognizing that this isn’t his story to tell. It’s a powerful reminder that some narratives can only truly come from those living them.
What makes The Message so special isn’t just what Coates writes but how he makes you feel like he’s right there with you, unpacking these moments together. It’s personal, raw, and full of hard truths. But at its core, it’s hopeful—a call to writers, thinkers, and anyone willing to listen, to keep telling the stories that matter. This isn’t just a book. It’s an invitation to see the world differently—and maybe even change it.
