My flushing toilet, my hot water, my air conditioner, my health insurance, my, my, my–all my my’s were American-made. Do I like who I am becoming? Is this me? Fear. Something happens– a new kind of white power– and I am led inside. Then the moment comes: Inhalation anthrax or a common cold? I have to ask myself. The America that I am is washing her hands. I believe Rankine is trying to figure out where we went wrong.Īn example of this personified America and the struggle with identity in this space and time is shown in the passage where she says, “As the days pass I begin to watch myself closely. The sense of emptiness illustrated by Rankine’s poetry, prose, and pictures is not something felt only by Rankine.

Something is obviously wrong with this picture. The need for drugs to function normally is a scary but true reality in America today. The issues she presents are not necessarily her own but those dealt with by Americans everywhere. The personified America she writes about is plagued with problems with race relations, a vicious cycle of depression and over-medication, liver disease, fear, and loneliness.

However, such a work could not be written without Rankine’s unique background as she is a “subject located in complex space of citizenship” (RA 45) due to her perspective on being Black in America and the changes in spatial rhetoric after 9/11/.

As I read on, I felt that this was more of an Autobiography of America from a certain perspective in a certain geopolitical space and time than an Autobiography of Rankine herself. Reading Rankine’s unique work, I was struck by her frequent references to different prescription drugs, the television and the liver.

Claudia rankine dont let me be lonely