100 Books Like Post Traumatic Slave Syndrome

Washington, our first president…Mr. American Freedom himself—was not just a slave owner but a slave hunter. What was his problem, I wondered, as I read about how he and his wife positively obsessed over re-capturing Ona Judge, a woman who escaped from their bondage.

They spent years, money, and some political clout tracking her down and trying to drag her back. They had plenty of other enslaved people! They weren’t short of money! As I read this wild tale of courage and cruelty, I got the message…the Washingtons knew that if a slave could flee the President of the United States, it would demonstrate the hypocrisy of trying to found a nation on liberty that, uh,…..held men, women and children in bondage.

My spoiler for you: They failed. Judge never returned to the Washingtons and lived to tell her own tale about the ugly history of American freedoms. Dunbar’s book… show more.

Much of my financial nonsense was taught, indirectly and directly, by my parents, family, and community members. Coming from a low-income and blue-collar working-class family, I am armed with a mentality toward poverty.

This book was written in plain language about saving, budgeting, investing, and wealth building. The steps were practical and easy enough for me to implement. Because of this book, I have a plan for my money; I know exactly where it goes, and I am an investor. These are no longer things I thought were reserved for white people.  

Percival Everett’s book speaks to me because it challenges the trite rule that a black author must write about the (stereotypical) black life–so, by extension, I must write about white women?

It’s a concept that goes against the very definition of a novel and denies a writer’s ability to be creative. Everett’s perfect satire of a writer’s life ridicules this bogus concept of authenticity. It’s a serious topic, but I couldn’t stop laughing.

This book completely shifted my perspective on rest and its importance in my life. I am a recovering hustle-and-grind girl. I learned that great ideas and true creativity flourish when we are well-rested and when we give ourselves the space to make new connections.

Hersey’s book showed me that rest is not just about sleep—it’s a form of resistance against capitalism and white supremacy. I loved how she emphasized rest as a foundation for healing and justice, reminding us that we are enough just as we are. This book made me rethink my relationship with productivity and why it’s essential to reclaim rest as a human right. I now see rest as a radical act of self-care and community care.

The abuse of power is a running theme in the history of psychiatry. Psychiatry has often been wielded to control those who challenge the status quo. This book neatly and creatively unearths one such attempt to stifle dissent by labeling it mad.

Focusing on a mental hospital in Michigan, Jonathan Metzl shows how schizophrenia was harnessed to pathologize Black Civil Rights activism in the 1960s. In the process, schizophrenia was transformed from a condition mainly diagnosed in whites to one that stressed violence and aggression and was mainly diagnosed in black males. I especially love how Metzl punctuates his historical analysis with poignant stories of individuals caught up in this dark period of racism in psychiatry. 

Every therapy session should be like what you can find in this book! The therapist authors model being candid and vulnerable, as well as historically educated and connected with others, as avenues to healing from trauma. They cite research articles and channel expertise from years of clinical practice at Yellow Chair Collective yet avoid psychological jargon. Soo Jin and Linda have a warm and practical approach to writing that makes for an easy, thought-provoking read.

The diverse range of personal healing stories will be relatable, and the exercises and reflections will be useful and accessible. I like mental health books where the authors are honest about their own struggles and foibles alongside their expertise, so you can really feel like they’re on this journey with you rather than talking at you. Obviously targeted for Asian Americans (or Asian Canadians, Asian Australians, Asian Brits…) but has useful content here for all… show more.

One of my all-time favorites. I think it is about Haiti, or it is a fictional island “Bourneville” that is based on Haiti. The novel describes a place linked to its history of enslavement and the battle for freedom. She is a beautiful deep-thinking writer. She carefully shows a group of white ethnographers going to this island, and how their attempts to "help" led to tragedy. It illustrates the pitfalls with international aid organizations. How often they damage, instead of help. And the novel is timely to this day. 

This was the book that gave voice and context to things I already knew deep in my bones. This book felt like a homecoming—a validation of the spirit worlds I’d glimpsed and the energetic truths I’d always felt. I love how Harner approaches shamanism with both reverence and curiosity, honoring ancient practices while making them accessible to modern seekers.

It opened the door for me to connect with guides, journey between realms, and understand healing in a way that goes way beyond the physical. It gave me permission to trust what I see, feel, and know. Every time I reread it, I find something new—because I’m constantly changing and growing, and it meets me where I’m at.

As adults, we don’t always realize how our childhood—and our parents—have played a major role in how we feel about ourselves and our relationships. This is not about blaming parents but realizing how we may not have learned important aspects of healthy relationships because of our upbringing.

This book sets out to help people free themselves from the effects of growing up with immature parents to heal deep wounds that have led to feelings of anger or fear of abandonment. With that newfound freedom comes the ability to create positive relationships with oneself and others.

M. is an autistic teen girl who desperately wants to be just like everyone else. Who longs to know the proper things to say and do.

And this was me. I was an undiagnosed autistic girl who longed to know the “right” ways to be/talk/act/feel, who never could quite de-code social situations or feel like I fit in.

Written collaboratively with the autistic girls who attend the Limpsfield-Grange School and their teacher, Vicky Martin, this book captured something special about the tricky social dilemmas of young teendom, something that resonated so deeply in me – I loved its truth-telling, and how funny and sad it was in turns – that’s how I write, too.