That specificity is helpful. Coates speaks from his own experience, delivering a blistering critique of a country that has always seen the black male body as something to control, fear, desire, exploit, and kill. By focusing on black men and boys, he mostly leaves out black women, girls, and trans people. Given that the book is a letter to his son, this is an understandable, if disappointing, omission. As Dr. Karsonya Wise Whitehead points out in The Sun, "there has always been push-back to the decades-old assumption that the black male experience automatically includes black women . . . the #BlackLivesMatter movement seems to inform a black man's view of the world and in much the same way, Coates' memoir continues to keep the Gaussian beam of focus squarely and predictably on black men." This critique is necessary, but should not take away from this memoir's importance as a timely, challenging, and necessary work. Readers can appreciate its value while recognizing its limitations.