The sound of silence: two books encourage open dialogue about the complexities of sexual abuse, gender bias and racism in our society.

No Secrets, No Lies: How Black Families Can Heal From Sexual Abuse

by Robin D. Stone Broadway Books, April 2004 $23.95, ISBN 0-767-91344-2

Black Sexual Politics: African Americans, Gender and the New Racism

by Patricia Hill Collins Routledge, February 2004 $26.00, ISBN 0-415-93099-5

The theme that binds two new nonfiction works is silence: the silence that shrouds the topic of childhood sexual abuse in the black community, leaving many of its victims to suffer alone; and the deadly quiet that belies the existence and debilitating effects of gender bias and heterosexism among African Americans people.

In an era when many self-help books offer road maps for attaining professional success and finding a husband, it is commendable that No Secrets, No Lies by Robin D. Stone deals with an issue as violent, ugly and hidden as childhood sexual abuse.

Stone, a journalism professor at New York University and a former editor for Essence and The New York Times, eases the journey of those in need of her book by writing in plain yet powerful prose. Stone tells those who have suffered such assaults that they must face their experiences in order to heal. She takes the reader by the hand interspersing "fast facts" about sexual abuse in our community with poignant stories from survivors and practical exercises on how to recover from the trauma, be it writing in a diary, going to a therapist, of incorporating African--centered rituals into your life.

Just as important, Stone speaks to how abusers behave and how they can be stopped. She tells those adults in whom a child confides that it is not enough merely to listen. You must make sure the child knows that he or she is believed. It is not enough to report the abuse to child-welfare and legal authorities. One must ensure the child's safety and make other family members aware of the suspected abuse.

Of course, while sexual abuse happens throughout society and discussing it is never an easy conversation, the backdrop of racism has made it a particularly taboo topic in the black community. Stone also addresses the fears that reporting sucia violence will stoke stereotypes about black sexuality and expose our families to the scrutiny of social workers, police and other outsiders who historically have been hostile to us.

Stereotypes and their insidious toll on our psyches also figure prominently in Patricia HAll Collins's Black Sexual Politics, a fascinating treatise on what she deems the "new racism" in which old myths and bigotries change in form but not in impact.

By likening isolated, impoverished neighborhoods to the prisons that incarcerate so many black men, drawing parallels between Sarah Bartmann, the Khoi woman dubbed the "Hottentot Venus" in the 19th century, and singer Beyonce, and even dissecting the 1997 film Booty Call, Hill Collins details how past distortions remain present, despite assertions that we are first becoming a color blind society.

In particular she writes, stereotypes about the oversexed, too-strong black women and the emasculated, hypersexual black man continue to influence our behavior as we challenge, and even channel, those myths in sometimes destructive ways.

Hill Collins also addresses the homophobia found within the black community and argues that black people have to redefine gender roles to reflect the contours of our actual experience, rather than accept strictures set by the larger society and designed in large part to perpetuate oppression. We can then begin to construct innovative, community-driven solutions to such issues as the declining rate of marriage among African Americans, domestic violence and the spread of HIV and AIDS:

What if black men and women stopped resenting one another for not fitting the main stream model that says men must earn more money than their wives and girlfriends? What if we supported so called alternative family structures, so long as they provided our children with sustenance?

"If anything, heterosexual African American men and women might consider pooling their resources, no matter who earned them; Hill Collins writes. And, ideally, "any family form that provided economic support for African American children, for example, gay and lesbian families, families that incorporated grandparents ... would be valued, not maligned because it failed to measure up to some predetermined gender norms." Scholarly in tone, Hill Collins's work may seem a bit academic to the lay reader, but its provocative ideas are well worth contemplating.

The traumatic effects of sexual abuse are immediate and long-lasting, devastating the survivor and undermining the bulwark of the family. Racism and rigid ideas about gender and sexuality also corrode our community. Both Stone and Hill Collins have written timely works outlining how in our homes and on a far larger scale, we must talk about the violence being done to our children--be it physical or psychological. By saving them, we ultimately save ourselves.

Charisse Jones is coauthor of Shifting: The Double Lives of Black Women in America (HarperCollins, September 2003).