Ta-Nehisi Coates: The Beautiful Struggle: A Father, Two Sons, and an Unlikely Road to Manhood

The acknowledgments begin with the love of my life, Kenyatta Matthews, without whom this book simply could not have been. There is no other way to say that. I thank my mother (Ma, you’re only second cause you got the dedication), who used to make me write essays whenever I got into trouble, explaining exactly what I’d done and why I’d done it. This book begins with her, to whom I am, obviously, immeasurably indebted. Love to my grandmother Anna Waters. Love to my aunt Ava and my aunt JoAnn. Love to my cousins Jeff, Kevin, and Jo-Jo.

A shout-out to my father, Paul Coates, who, when I was thirteen, handed me a copy of Greg Tate’s Flyboy in the Buttermilk . I didn’t know what the hell Greg was talking about. But I knew that somewhere in the world there were people whose life work it was to play with language and unpack the diction of Chuck D. That was all I needed to know. Peace to Greg Tate, for that initial spark.

Peace to my brother Damani, who introduced me to hip-hop and poetry, thus seeding the initial thoughts for this book. Peace to my brother John, who helped subsidize this endeavor in the last months. Peace to Malik, who guided me through Keep on the Borderlands, Against the Giants, and Castle Amber . Those days still walk with me, all the way through this book. Peace to my sisters, Kris and Kelly, for constant encouragement. Peace to Menelik, and congratulations on doing me one better and actually making it out of Mecca. Peace to those coming up next to bat — Tye, N’namdi, Christian, Samori, Christopher, Oronde, Marley. Love to you all.

Peace to anyone who ever, at any point, worked for Washington City Paper, an institution that changed my life. Thanks to David Carr, who hired me off of some middling college newspaper columns. Thanks to Bradford Mckee, one of the greatest editors I’ve ever worked with. Thanks to the great friends I met there: Amanda Ripley, Michael Schaffer, Stephanie Mencimer (who shepherded me through the Washington Monthly in lean times), Eric Wemple, Caroline Schweiter, Sean Daly, John Cloud, Jason Cherkis, Amy Austin. Please forgive me if I missed anyone. I’m getting old. Love to all of you. Those were some of the best times of my life.

Thanks to my agent Gloria Loomis. Thanks to Walter Mosley for the opportunity. Thanks to my editor Christopher Jackson, who cultivated this idea from small-talk over lunch to an actual book. Thanks to everyone at Spiegel & Grau — Mya Spalter, Meghan Walker, Lucy Silag, Cindy Spiegel, and Julie Grau. Thanks to any editor who ever took a chance on me. Thanks to Bill Saporito, Nathan Thorn-burgh, and Lisa Cullen, without whom my stay at Time would likely have been shorter. Thanks to Paul Tough and Ilena Silverman, both of whom gave me huge breaks.

Props to Jelani Cobb, Joel Dias-Porter, Brian Gilmore, Natalie Hopkinson, Natalie Moore, Kenneth Carroll, and Bridget Warren. Every one of you is/was instrumental in my education. Props to my man Ben Talton, who always believed, and his wife, Janai Nelson, still my favorite debating partner. Props to my good friends Neil Drumming, Dawnie Walton, and Ricardo Gutierrez, who’ve listened to me drone on about this book for too long. Props to Brendan Koerner and Eyal Press, perhaps the two biggest reasons I haven’t tossed out my laptop and enrolled in culinary school. Props to Colby Poulson and GS. I shall see you all in the battlegrounds again, one way or another.