James Baldwin’s stepfather made fun of him when he was growing up, ridiculing his “frog eyes” and calling him the ugliest boy he had ever seen. Baldwin would state later that he had no reason not to believe him. The oldest of nine children, Baldwin was born in Harlem to a single mother who never told him the name of his father, and married his stepfather when James was 2 or 3 years old. The man he called father was a strict and physical presence, often beating the boy.
This would set the internal tone for the rest of his life. What he felt about himself on the inside was exactly what black people in America felt on the outside. Everyday. Rather than write a short biography of James Baldwin here, I am going to tell you why you should read everything he ever wrote.
First, he made the connection between his plight and the black American plight at an early age. At the age of 14, he was preaching in his stepfather’s Pentecostal church. Three years later, he left the church. He showed keen interest in reading, writing, and theater. A white teacher, Orwilla Miller, whom he called “Bill”, took him under her wing, and made sure he had the experience of reading, writing, and seeing plays and movies. Despite his stepfather openly hating white people, the elder Baldwin never said no to the white woman’s request. Baldwin would later say that the relationship he had with his teacher prevented him for the rest of his life from hating white people.
Second, he was bold and raw and honest when no one else was. When he wrote “Giovanni’s Room” in 1956, it was the first mainstream novel with homoerotic themes. 
It was centered around a man’s homosexual romantic experience in Paris. The characters in the novel are all white, which was a surprise after his previously published novel. At the time, he felt that he couldn’t handle two heavy themes such as homosexuality and race in one novel. His literature and essays commonly revolve around a personal experience, while shining a light on how it interacts, intersects, and occasionally interferes with the bigger picture.
Third, James Baldwin would not be pigeonholed. He was a writer, activist, poet, artist, and debater. He was humble, arrogant, soft-spoken, loud, energetic, and exhausted. His writing is like reading a conversation with himself, asking questions, answering them, contradicting himself, and many times reaching no conclusion. He was beautifully complex.
Lastly, the topics he addressed over 60 years ago are still with us. He addressed blackness, sexuality, politics, society, class, education, and all of these themes are still very relevant. When he discussed these issues, he did so with eloquence, poise, and courage. In a eulogy delivered at his funeral, his good friend Toni Morrison said, “You knew, didn’t you, how I needed your language and the mind that formed it? How I relied on your fierce courage to tame wildernesses for me? How strengthened I was by the certainty that came from knowing you would never hurt me? You knew, didn’t you, how I loved your love? You knew. This then is no calamity. No. This is jubilee. ‘Our crown,’ you said, ‘has already been bought and paid for. All we have to do,’ you said, ‘is wear it.’”
I can’t think of higher praise of a life well-lived.
