Love, Hate, and Other Filters is one of the best books I’ve ever read. It’s a book about being a teenager, but it’s also so much more. It’s about love, family, schools, but also bigotry, hate, and talks extensively about how impressionable everyone is when we are young; how important it is to nurture and support kids and address hate whenever it first emerges.
Love, Hate and Other Filters is a book about knowing what hate is, about fighting it when the virus first enters; it’s a book fighting the notion that it’s okay to live in a world where apologizes after-the-fact are enough.
Love, Hate and Other Filters left me speechless. From its tackle at the family dynamics of a Desi family, to its addressing of White Terrorism and pervasive, structural racism in the US and Canada, there was not a single moment that didn’t feel real.
This book. This prose. This.
It meant so much to me.
I cannot form the words to truly tell you the fear I, as a South-Asian woman, live in everyday, let alone the fear of millions of Muslims in our day and age. I cannot tell you the microaggressive comments I face from customers at my workplace, or from strangers passing me by. I cannot tell you because I don’t know how to. But Love, Hate and Other Filters did that for me.
In words I couldn’t form myself, Love, Hate and Other Filtersmanaged to covey my fear, my concern, my desperation for a better world in one sentence: “All this stuff happened when they only suspected it was a Muslim.”
This book told the story of so many Muslims, and South-Asians in the western world. This story is more than love, even if it stresses the importance of love over hate. It is about tolerance and perseverance because it is not those who are white that must go on after accusations and Hate Crimes, and pretend it’s just any other Tuesday; it is us, the People of Colour.