Books - Hadjii

Don’t Let My Mama Read This:

A Southern Fried Memoir

"I wouldn’t let my mom read it either, but I’d recommend it to anyone else. Hadjii has made a literary debut as fresh and funny as his first film. One of the original voices of his generation.”

Reginald Hudlin,

Filmaker and Former

President of

Entertainment for BET

Meet Hadjii.

He’s got a loving family, a taste for making trouble, and a wicked sense of humor. His first book, Don’t Let My Mama Read This, is a rarity—an upbeat memoir about a blessedly normal childhood written by a natural-born storyteller. In it, he offers a warm, witty look at the pleasures and pitfalls of growing up in a close-knit Southern family, from a young man who’s just like you, only funnier.

"At their best, these tales recall Bill Cosby of the 1960s, circa his comedy album “To Russell, My Brother, Whom I Slept With.” Here’s hoping we hear more from Hadjii.”

Steve Murray,

Atlanta Journal Constitution

"This debut book is witty, insightful, and as delightful as a platter of mom’s fried chicken.”

Tuscon Citizen

"Hadjii’s specific style of writing and unique sense of humor will have readers chuckling at every turn of the page.”

Diana Saenger,

Review Express

"(Don’t Let My Mama Read This) is the Huckleberry Finn of the MySpace generation.”

Kendrick Daye,

Art Nouveau Magazine

Don’t Let My Mama Read This

Book Review:

by Kendrick Daye, Art Noveau Magazine

Despite making jokes about every race, sexual orientation and personality in his memoir Don't Let My Mama Read This, there is a sense of self-affirmation to writer Hadjii's work. This is in part because of the significant amount of slang and expletives that run rampant through the text, making his memoir easily accessible, memorable to younger audiences and above all--a damn good read. The memoir follows the writer's commentary of his life, similar to Chris Rock's commentary in his hit television show, Everybody Hates Chris.Hadjii's got a loving family, a taste for making trouble and a wicked sense of humor. In it, he offers a warm, witty look at the pleasures and pitfalls of growing up in a close-knit Southern family, from a young man who's just like you, only a hell of a lot funnier.

Excerpt

See, there’s nothing like growing up black in America. I mean, minus the poverty, unemployment, hate crimes, gang violence, police brutality, racial profiling, and the always present possibility of getting shot in the head over damn near nothing at all, I wouldn’t trade it for the world, because growin’ up black can be a beautiful thang.

This was until it was time for the other black person in class to read their paper. That’s when it just got fuckin’ depressin’. Notice how I say, “The other black person in the class.” Because there were always at least two of us. Never more than three, but always at least two. Because at a white school two blacks is enough to make their quota, but four is enough to start a revolution.

Chapter 1, “The Negro Handbook”