Colson Whitehead writes gripping book on cruelty in US juvenile justice: 'The system is still intact'

With his slavery novel The Underground Railroad, American writer Colson Whitehead broke through worldwide. His impressive new book Nickel's boys is once again about a horrific page in recent US history.

Torture, rape, even murder: it was the order of the day at the Arthur G. Dozier School for Boys. For no less than 111 years, most of the boys sent to this disciplinary school in Florida, many of them black, came out psychologically and physically broken - if they came out at all. It was the largest 're-education' school in America, and probably one of the worst. Just a few months ago, radar research revealed 27 new graves on the site, after an earlier find of many dozens. A horror story, which nevertheless initially caused a lot less fuss than you might expect.

Well-mannered

After writing The underground railway, a Pulitzer Prize-winning novel about America's brutal slavery past, Colson Whitehead didn't really want to write about such a fierce topic again right away. But when he heard about this story in 2014, he couldn't avoid it. In Nickel's Boys, he tells the story of Elwood Curtis, who grows up during the time of segregation laws. Elwood Curtis is young, extraordinarily intelligent, well-mannered, hard-working, kind. And black.

Despite big and small forces trying to keep 'the Negro' down, Elwood is determined to create a better future for himself. But on the first day he can attend university, things go wrong. The black motorist who gives him a lift turns out to have stolen the car. Even though Elwood has nothing to do with it, he is sent straight to the infamous Nickel Academy. In a handsome, understated way, Whitehead paints a picture of what goes on at this disciplinary school. 'This book is fiction' reads the title page of the book. But although the story's characters Elwood and his friend Tucker are the author's imagination, the regime at this school was all too true.

What kind of boys were at the Arthur G. Dozier School For Boys?

'It was a re-education school for young offenders, so they did not have to be in prison with adult criminals. The idea behind it was that they could still be rehabilitated at a young age, by training them and letting them work in the fields. But there were also boys who had no home or were innocent. Right from the opening of the school, there was corruption, mistreatment and sexual abuse. Every few years, inspectors were sent there and a few things were 'changed', and then it continued on the usual appalling footing. Then, for example, the isolation cell was closed for a while, and after some time simply reinstated.'

So were those surveys just for form?

'Just nobody really cared. And you know, this kind of practice also took place in church orphanages, shelters for unwed teenage mothers or other institutions. It happens everywhere, and no one is ever held accountable or tried for it. While the innocent grow up with the terrible scars of what they had to endure.'

The Dozier School was finally closed in 2011, when the horrific reality finally came to light. Wasn't it big news then?

'In 2011, reports appeared in local media, but it wasn't until 2014, when work began on exhuming the bodies of murdered students, that it also hit the news nationwide. I had never heard of this disciplinary home at that time and still this story is not as well known as it should be in my opinion. A few months ago, when I had just finished the book, radar images detected 27 new graves. The bodies are currently being exhumed.'

What made you decide to write a novel about it?

'The same summer of 2014 also saw other stories in the news about institutional violence against blacks. In Ferguson, Michael Brown was shot dead by a police officer; in Staten Island, New York, Eric Garner died after being strangled by officers. Invariably, discussion arises about it, and then pretty soon the conversation dies down. When I heard about all these murdered black boys, and read testimonies from people who had put on that school, I wanted to tell this story. The story of Dozier and other similar places. The story of black teenagers who had to live under the yoke of segregation laws in the 1960s. Those were still in force, but at the same time Martin Luther King and human rights organisations gave a certain hope for change.'

Everything is possible

'That's what I wanted to write about: a time when it seems like anything is possible, while the old system is still intact. I don't know if my novel will change anything about this kind of practice - I fear that the human capacity for cruelty is too deep-rooted. But by bringing this story out, I am at least doing something.'

Are there still places like Dozier?

'Yes, definitely. Currently, thousands of children from Mexico and Central America are staying in detention camps at the border. The people accompanying the children have no competence or training to do so. Reports of sexual abuse are already coming out and these camps just get bigger and bigger. Nobody cares about poor people, nobody cares about people of colour.'

In an earlier interview, you said you grew up with the realisation that any confrontation with the police could turn out badly and even lead to death. Is it still as bad now as it was in your youth?

'Yes, it has always been like that. My grandfather and my father told me they were regularly stopped by the police. That still happens every so often today. As a black person, you are always a suspect. I haven't driven a car for a long time, but friends in Atlanta are regularly stopped on their way to work under false pretenses. And you have to be careful not to reach for your wallet or car papers too quickly afterwards, because then you will be eliminated.'

Responsible

'Fifty years ago it was worse, but it is still bad. Even for poor white people. In some states, if you can't pay a speeding ticket, you get thrown in jail, and once you're in that system, anything can happen to you. A fate that does not befall rich whites.'

Since it is true, do you feel a great responsibility towards the men who attended this school?

'It is, of course, fiction, and the two main characters are my creation. But I do hope it does justice to the experiences of the survivors. As with any book, I hope people can recognise themselves in it, whether they have heard of this history or not.'

Wasn't it tough to immerse yourself in so much violence and cruelty again?

'Yes, writing two books about America's fundamental sins - racism, slavery, institutional oppression - has taken a lot out of me emotionally. You always have to balance between, on the one hand, enough empathy to get it right on paper and do justice to the truth, and, on the other, enough distance to be able to mould it into a novel. Especially the last few months I was working on The Nickel Boys, I found it hard to get started or do research; I could barely stomach it. So yes, I could use a break now.'