In this searing and ultimately uplifting memoir, Lambda Literary Nonfiction Fellow Nikkya Hargrove describes how she—fresh out of college, Black, and queer—adopted her baby brother after their often incarcerated mother died, and how she determined to create the kind of family she never had. 
 
Growing up, Nikkya Hargrove’s mother was in and out of prison. Hargrove, one of the 5 million children dealing with the effects of an incarcerated parent, spent a good portion of her childhood in prison visiting rooms but almost never actually living with her mother. In Hargrove’s case, though, life got even more complicated when her mother—addicted to cocaine and just out of prison—had a son. When that child was just months old, Hargrove’s mother died and Hargrove, who had just graduated from college, decided to fight for custody of her half brother.
And fight she does. We see how she is subjected to preconceived notions that she, a Black, queer, young woman, cannot be given such responsibility. She’s honest about the shame she feels accepting food stamps, about her family’s reaction to her coming out, and about the joy she experiences when she meets the woman who will become her wife. But whether she’s clashing with Jonathan’s biological father or battling for Jonathan’s education rights after he’s diagnosed with ADHD and autism, this is a woman who won’t give up. 
 
Hargrove’s memoir picks up where Bryan Stevenson’s Just Mercy left off, exploring generational trauma and pulling back the curtain on family court and poverty in America.  Moving and inspiring, Mama is an ode to motherhood and identity, to never giving up, and to finding strength in family and community.