37 Days Book Review by Libby Zinman Schwartz
37 Days THE DISENFRANCHISEMENT OF A PHILADELPHIA POLL WORKER
By Daryl M. Brooks and Stephen Martino
I met the author some months ago at a bookstore in Marketplace Mall. He was kind enough to offer me a chair at his table. We both wore our masks and sat quietly reading.
Then Daryl asked me something, which I don’t recall now, but it opened a conversation about books, literature and more. I discovered Daryl had published a book, and he learned I was a retired psychotherapist and writer of many years.
When I listened to his story, which I found mesmerizing, I asked him where I could find the book. He told me it was on Amazon and asked me if I would consider reviewing it. I told him I was busy with my own book but I would read his and decide.
Daryl’s story in detail was captivating; I had completed almost all of it when I decided I would be interested in reviewing it. It was Daryl’s raw honesty that made his story at once appealing to me. Although there were a few undetected mechanical errors (the book was self-published and edited by Anwar Salandy), the writing was fluent and the content always surprising.
Above all, Daryl’s account of his activism and his pride in that role dominated the story. Activism was the real protagonist, and many different people, both public, private and professional, reacted to it in striking ways.
For a decade Daryl had been imprisoned for a crime he insisted he never committed. Despite being released and ultimately pronounced not guilty by a Board of Examiners, he had endured a heroic struggle to be heard, believed and pronounced not guilty.
Daryl Brooks was born in Trenton and had become well-known there for speaking out against drugs, violent behavior and the easy availability of guns. Eventually, one of culprits he named retaliated by falsely accusing him of criminal behavior. He was charged with sexual assault and jailed for a crime he did not commit.
His story becomes even more astonishing as he takes the reader through the history of his ordeal to prove his innocence, attain his freedom and expunge the guilty charge. Nevertheless, while paroled he was required to attend therapy and be exposed to the insistence of a therapist assigned to him to admit he was guilty of assault.
As a former custody evaluator for the Camden County Court system, I regretted learning what he had to endure; what impressed me most, however, was the courage and honesty he displayed by refusing to admit to a crime he did not commit.
He paid a high price for tenacious belief in his own integrity. And an even higher price when past friends –many of them—continued to label him as an ex-prisoner and criminal even after he was free on parole and had found a job.
He lost the job but was still eager to continue his formal education. He could no longer afford the cost of attendance at the community college he formerly attended but did pursue his hunger for education at free seminars and conferences. He had spent some time at Princeton University on campus when word of his past somehow got around and he was informed by Professor Cornel West that the students in African American Studies did not want him around any longer.
Apparently, Daryl’s activism riled up some people or he was too outspoken. As I continued to read, however, I realized that the author’s deep religious beliefs and his desire to confront injustice was putting off many of the people whom he hoped would support his mission.
Though Daryl's close family warned him not to attend a Tea Party in Washington, D.C., in 2009, Daryl relates that he found no racism there, only warm acceptance, which must have felt like manna from heaven considering all the rebuffs he had enduring for so long.
And this was where my doubts grew about the appropriateness of my writing a review for the author of “37 Days,” an activist whose courage I admired but whose beliefs were the opposite of my own. I was personally grateful that President Biden and Kamala Harris had won the election and horrified by Donald Trump’s behavior which eventually led, in my opinion, to the tragic violence at the Capitol on January 6, 2021.
I wrote Daryl that I hoped he had not been one of the crowd who descended upon the Capitol with the Trump followers and told him that I did not think I could write a decent review since we had such different political beliefs and affiliations.
But I did not sleep well that night, and I realized why the next morning. I have been guided in my life by the value of honesty, above all, and as a therapist I always sought many sides of an issue presented to me by a client.
Why did I agree to write a review of Daryl’s book in the first place? It was because we both recognized in each other the same values, regardless of our political orientations. We have both tried to live honestly and confront injustice: I in my personal life and Daryl in the causes he supported on a wider stage, which at times brought him adulation but also great suffering.
The next day I began to write this review because my experience of Daryl’s life in his book taught me something important. I lead my life existentially by choosing my own values, expressing them openly and acting on them when they are challenged unfairly. Yet, in initially refusing to review Daryl's book, I nearly violated that commitment because another writer’s political views were different from my own.
“37 Days, The Disenfranchisement of a Philadelphia Poll Worker,” by Daryl L.M. Brooks and Stephen Martino, is a fast read and a fascinating one. It offers a story for all of us to think about.
By Libby Zinman Schwartz