What must living be like for Steve Bartman?On October 14, 2003, Bartman became the most infamous Chicago Cubs fan when he deflected a foul ball in game 6 of the National Championship Series between the Cubs and the Florida Marlins. In the immediate aftermath, security escorted him inside the stadium to watch the rest of the game and later hustled him (in disguise) to a safe place. The next day, Bartman released a statement begging fans for forgiveness and pleading that threats against his loved ones be stopped. In the following weeks, Bartman headlined the news of nearly every sports-related program and planted himself firmly in Cubs lore. After all, the Cubs went on to lose the game and the series. More than a decade later--and still no World Series championship for the Cubs--Bartman has yet to be seen or heard from publicly.
Bartman is simply one example of one, along with his friends and family, whose life was altered in ways unimaginable. Yes, in general, life is unpredictable and we all experience life-altering moments and events, but the kind I speak of are those we don't necessarily want and could not foretell we would be a part of simply by being a part of a web that connects us. Think the children of O.J. Simpson and Nicole Brown, or the parents of the Columbine shooters, or the family and friends of the Ramseys, or the lowly Sony workers who now face a life-long fear of identify theft and financial ruin, or those left behind after a loved one has committed suicide.
In comparison to these other examples, Bartman's situation seems tame. However, the intense scrutiny and hostility he experienced then (and now?), I'm sure were and are too real and nightmarish for him and those who are part of his life. Still, he's one example of someone whose experience leaves me wondering: In the aftermath of such events, what must life be like for the survivors? For the ones who become tangled in a web not of their creation?
This is one of many questions Jacqueline Woodson's Hush (2002) concerns itself with. Forced to abandon her life, her loved ones, and her identity when she and her immediate family enter the Witness Protection Program, Towsiah Green--now Evie Thomas--and her family struggle to survive as they mourn their existence before her father, a black cop, chose to break from the infamous "blue wall of silence" so ingrained in cop culture to testify against fellow white cops in the wrongful shooting death of an unarmed black teen. Hush plants itself firmly in showcasing what life is like for those who unwittingly become enmeshed in someone else's mess.
Though based on events that are seemingly too typical for certain U.S. citizens, Woodson's narrative is anything but typical. Told in the aftermath of her father's decision and from the perspective of the younger daughter, Towsiah, the story is related in Woodson's typically poetic style: she subtly conveys all Towsiah's haunting longing for her past life as her family fumbles to survive and thrive in their new one. Woodson offers no concrete happy ending; she simply creates snapshots that reveal that the family's path to acceptance and rebuilding is not a quick and easy one.
A surprisingly quick read at 192 pages, Hush is a complex YA novel that lingers. It offers readers a glimpse into the effects of events outside of some people's control, and the harsh, seemingly bleak but ultimately hopeful aspects of living. In the aftermath of Trayvon Martin, Eric Garner, Tamir Rice, among countless others, Hush becomes an evocative, relevant, and poignant read.
Comments
Post a Comment