Every one of us has a defining moment, some “act of being”—whether
monumental or insignificant to others—that stays with us, becomes permanent,
never to heal, never to fully recover from a regrettable decision. A hand
gesture … volatile words … acting out … celebrating, whatever … I can still see
that young man standing near an overturned police car, holding a Detroit Tigers
World Series Pennant in his hand, a young man back in 1984 who met his fate
years later while battling alcoholism. But what of it?
Next on my reading list is David Margolick’s “Elizabeth and
Hazel, Two Women of Little Rock,” based on a snapshot of an angry white mob
following a 15-year-old black girl named
Elizabeth Eckford as she walks to an all white school. Leading the pack is a
15-year-old white girl named Hazel Bryan; the camera captures an expression of
hatred on her face.
It’s what happens years later, after certain images are
burned into our consciousness, the mundane parts of life which give us a better
understanding of who we are. I know that Elizabeth Eckford did not earn her
high school diploma. I also know that Hazel Bryan tried to atone for her past.
“There’s more to me than one moment,” she has said in numerous interviews. I’ve
watched a documentary about “The Little Rock Nine.” I’ve seen the grainy
footage of hate, and I sometimes wonder whether it’s best to accept our
shortcomings, learn from it, and move-on, instead of opening up old wounds and
asking for forgiveness. Perhaps once I read Margolick’s book I’ll have a better
understanding of how to proceed with my own defining moments and the perception
others have toward my existence.
*Pictured above: Michelle Brooks, author of “Dead Girl, Live
Boy” and “Make Yourself Small,” and yours truly at The Emory in Ferndale , Michigan January 14, 2012 ).
7 comments:
I thought of this thing on facebook where some folks put up "happy N**** day for Martin luther King day, and wondered if they would later regret it.
Out of the ashes Phoenix rising.
Motor City Press needs your direction. Never too late. Hucks Gang
Talk about defining moments.
Once I too went out with a gorgeous woman.
Spouse had no sense of humour.
Lost everything. Home, job jockstrap and book.
Hoo-Ha.
At some point you either let those "defining moments" eat the living bit of life you have left or you say fuck it and them and forget about all of it never to resurrect them except as a character moment in a piece of fiction. I don't know anyone who has ever had a life without at least on day of shit, whether they caused it or not.
Life is shit and we fall for platitudes of "it get's better." My ass! It is what it is and time moves forward to some good days and some fucked up ones and all that matters is the eye still can discern the difference between the two.
Remember that day well. Glad to see you smiling and enjoying life.
Huck
A defining moment in pictures indeed. Enjoyed the story. MW
I thought of this thing on facebook where some folks put up "happy N**** day for Martin luther King day, and wondered if they would later regret it.
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