Support, Acceptance, and Belonging Theme Analysis

In Dear Martin, Nic Stone demonstrates how beneficial it is for people facing discrimination to have supportive relationships. Searching for guidance, Justyce addresses his diary entries to Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr., wanting to fortify himself against the hatred and insensitivity all around him by emulating Dr. King. Unfortunately, though, this proves quite difficult, since the deceased Dr. King can’t respond to his entries. As a result, Justyce seeks out real-life allies like his Societal Evolution teacher, Doc, and his debate partner, SJ. However, their support doesn’t always suffice, most likely because he has trouble fully relating to them, since Doc is a middle-aged man with a PhD and SJ is white. Feeling like he has nobody to commiserate with, then, Justyce flirts with the idea of joining the Black Jihad, a gang he’s avoided all his life. And though he ultimately decides not to go through with this plan, the mere fact that he’s drawn to the Black Jihad in the first place indicates just how badly he aches for a sense of camaraderie and mutual understanding. This desire for support, Stone suggests, is the primary reason teenagers end up joining gangs, as these groups build strong communities, even if they also enact violence and commit crimes. In this way, Stone shows readers the appeal of gang life and, in turn, just how much young people facing racism and social isolation yearn for a sense of belonging and acceptance.

It becomes quite evident early in Dear Martin that Justyce feels out of place at his wealthy prep school. One of the only black students, he finds it especially difficult to deal with the entrenched racism of his classmates after having been racially profiled, beaten, and unfairly arrested by Officer Castillo. Hoping to remove himself from the unsympathetic world of Braselton Prep, he takes the bus to his mother’s house with the intention of never returning. That he makes this decision emphasizes how unsupported and misunderstood he feels. When he tells his mother about a racist in-class discussion he was forced to sit through that day, she says, “Hard being a black man, ain’t it?” Agreeing, he says, “All I know is I can’t seem to find where I fit. Especially at that school.” He goes on to say that he “still feel[s] like an outsider,” despite the fact that he’s attended Braselton Prep for all four years of high school.

His mother, for her part, listens to his complaints but doesn’t allow him to simply “run away” from everything he’s worked toward. This kind of tough love and encouragement is a vital form of parental support, one that motivates Justyce to courageously face what he cannot change and return to school. At the same time, his mother’s guidance does very little to help him on an emotional level, and though her pep talk shows him that he has to “make a place for [himself] in the world,” it doesn’t necessarily give him the kind of acceptance and sense of belonging he wants so badly.

Justyce’s sense of isolation and lack of emotional support only intensifies after his only black friend, Manny, is killed by a white off-duty police officer named Garrett Tison. Justyce himself is in the car when Manny dies, and he sustains injuries of his own. Shortly after he leaves the hospital, the media slanders him, portraying him as a “thug” who provoked Officer Tison. To add to this, he continues to exist amidst the casual racism of Braselton Prep. For this reason, he suddenly finds the idea of joining the Black Jihad rather appealing. Although he’s spent his entire life trying to avoid gangs, he now sees the Black Jihad as a potential means of emotional and communal support.

When he visits Manny’s cousin Quan in juvenile detention, Quan insists that joining the Black Jihad will solve all of Justyce’s problems. “You need to get you a crew to roll with,” he says, urging Justyce to call Martel, the gang’s leader. “He’s like a big brother to a lot of us,” Quan says. He also acknowledges that life is “hard out there by yourself,” a sentiment Justyce can certainly identify with, as a young black man who has become the target not only of racial profiling by the police, but also of his white peers’ insensitivity. The more the Black Jihad appeals to Justyce, the easier it is to see why gangs attract struggling teenagers in the first place: they can provide a form of guidance, mentorship, and community.

It’s worth noting the tragic irony of the fact that Justyce’s run-ins with the police are largely what drive him toward gang life. Although the police are theoretically supposed to protect teenagers from gangs, in this case they have given Justyce the impression that joining a gang is the only way to find acceptance and safety. On his way to Martel’s house, he thinks about how angry his mother would be if she knew he were considering joining a gang. “But frankly, she hasn’t been any help lately either,” he thinks, confirming that his mother’s tough-love encouragement hasn’t provided him with the emotional support he needs. Because of this, he focuses on the fact that Martel will understand what it’s like to be a young black man in the United States. “That’s really why he’s on this bus [to Martel’s house] right now: he’s sick of feeling alone,” Stone writes.

Thankfully, though, Justyce eventually finds a different way of feeling less “alone,” ultimately investing himself in his romantic relationship with SJ instead of joining the Black Jihad. After realizing that joining the gang would mean embracing violence, Justyce runs out of Martel’s house and goes to SJ, finally telling her how he feels. As he does so, he reveals to her that he almost joined the Black Jihad, and he breaks down crying. SJ wraps him in a hug and simply lets him weep, and it is this action—this form of acceptance—that finally makes him feel less alone. From this point on, he and SJ start dating, and though their relationship doesn’t magically solve his problems, SJ’s emotional support lends him the strength necessary to navigate the difficulties of being a young black man in a racist society. In turn, readers see that loving encouragement can help a person secure a sense of belonging even in trying times.