It’s been a while since I’ve heard someone being called an Oreo. For those who don’t know what that means, it’s someone who looks Black yet acts white. Yes, it’s incredibly offensive, but it was a deep-seated fear growing up, especially when you are on the outer fringes of what’s “accepted.” There is something to be said about anti-blackness and ensuring our love and appreciation for our community. But being an Oreo wasn’t that. It mostly focused on aesthetics and speech with no extensive investigation of the person or their values. For that reason, the quick-draw label of an Oreo sent a palpable chill through my heart. This fear is deeply and brilliantly conveyed in the middle-grade comic Timid by Jonathan Scott. The 2024 Scholastic Graphix, semi-autobiographical Timid is a coming-of-age story that follows Cecil Hall, a black middle schooler, as he navigates his new hometown of Boston, Massachusetts, and finds a friend group that appreciates his intersecting interests and beliefs. Originally from a predominantly black town in Florida, Cecil learns about code switching in predominantly white spaces, unspoken rules around race, identity, business, and value. Cecil, advocating for himself in his own way, becomes the beautiful heartbeat of this relatable and delightful tale.
Loving Cecil and His Inner Monologue
Gentle. That is what comes to mind when I think of Cecil, the main character of Timid. And not gentle, like someone would need to be to handle a fragile object. More like a gentle wave, soft but firmly moving you in the direction he wants to go. Cartoonist Jonathan Todd excels at depicting Cecil’s gentleness through his inner monologue. There, we see Cecil observing, processing, and evaluating the world and everything it has to offer. Even when he is scared, he only speaks when he is considered everything and makes a decision that best suits his interests. I love that his inner world is so mindfully vibrant.
One of the biggest questions he has to ponder is how racial and cultural differences impact him as a Black kid. He begins to acknowledge this with his sister and her Oreo comment. This move to Boston makes him scared of making new friends, and he is worried about finding friends who look like him. He begins to notice microaggressions from other students and evaluates those kids accordingly. He questions friendships and business arrangements because of an associate’s behavior. It was beautiful seeing that evaluation modeled because many Black children who are raised in predominantly white neighborhoods and who attend schools of the same nature often deal with these interactions. Giving Black children a tangible way to navigate and find confidence in that experience is something Jonathan Scott should be awarded every accolade available.
What also sparked joy as a parent was the father’s brief character arc. We meet him as he’s pressuring Cecil to become “more masculine and tougher” so his son can grow into a respected adult. Dad forces an antiquated and harmful view of masculinity that is not Cecil’s nature at all. And Cecil knows this about himself. Instead of forcing himself to be something he’s not, Cecil sifts through the potentially toxic intentions of his father’s words and finds his way to the root of his father’s intentions: to be more assertive. Now it takes Cecil quite a while to do this because he’s still a kid. But that’s the beauty of the story: watching him grow and become more of himself, with his parents’ help, however misguided it may be. His father eventually has a conversation that shifts his mindset and allows his kid to dream more confidently, something every child needs.
Cartoonish, Bold Art for a Gentle Soul
This comic has a fairly simple color palette and art style that really gets the job done. It’s cartoonish, similar to Lawrence Lindell’s Blackward and Liz Montague. The art adds levity to the heavier thoughts and conversations in Timid. The colorist, Dominique Ramsey, did a wonderful job. There are panels where the background cuts out, and we’re focusing solely on the main character’s emotions. The background color enhances the emotions Cecil feels, especially when he’s frustrated. There’s minimal shading, creating just enough depth to remind the reader that the story, while gentle, is firmly and intentionally moving you to a place of understanding. The panel structure is very simple and easy to follow, with the intentional color difference in the speech and thought bubbles.
As I learn about comic book lettering, it becomes more obvious in the works I read. Using lettering, you can see how passionate Cecil is about comics. He’s so observant, yet everything fades to the background once he begins drawing. On page 135, there’s a large panel that details him selling T-shirts and drawing a new comic strip. In the panel, a tornado of music notes and the bass line of a song surround him, yet he is unfazed, with the biggest smile on his face as he draws his comic panels. That panel, along with many others, emphasizes his love and steadfastness toward his future goal of becoming a cartoonist.
Did the story do its job?
This story successfully created an authentic, complex child narrator who could be swapped out for any Black kid you know. I remember having some of the same thoughts growing up, the same inner monologue. His experiences are something I see my own kids having to find their way through being black and predominantly white towns and figuring out where the boundaries lie. The goal was set, and Todd succeeded easily.
Do I Recommend It?
Timid by Jonathan Scott is a necessary read for Black kids who need to see representation of their experiences and for non-Black folks who want a better understanding of our interior lives and the hyper-aware lives we live as Black Americans. I recommend this to every adult, as it’s a reminder of what we’ve gone through and of the dreams that could have come true if we’d had the space to do what we want. For kids, especially Black kids, it’s the necessary affirmation that what you’re thinking is normal, that what you’re going through has been experienced by those before you, and the promise that things will get better if you stay true to you.
You can be scared. You can be timid. As long as you still stay true to yourself at the end of the day.
If you enjoyed this review and are interested in buying this comic, please consider buying it through the Blerd Library Bookshop on Bookshop.org. Click on the icon below as the affiliate link helps fund this website and all the things I do here!
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