My End of Summer

Looking back to the past, I have a strong conclusion on where my summer ended as a child. Growing up half-black in Boston was always a tough part of living. Everyone asked me who I was, and more specifically, what I was. Occasionally, I would get picked up from preschool by a white father, and other days a black mother. On the odd circumstance, both of them at the same time. However, the differences in my life only got more exaggerated once I was home. Nothing a child who could count his years alive on one hand could ever prepare for, even when he prepared for the worst imaginable. Two towering grownups clashing against each other, with booming voices that rumbled through my core.

Hastily moving up the stairs with my older brother in hand, a sinking feeling slowly starts to cut through me like a knife through butter. Once I turned the corner into the dark however oddly  inviting room, I briskly plopped myself down at the Spider-Man video game that we used to play on our tube TV. Bright colors began to flash as I took the controller, gripping it firmly in my hands. The sounds of arguing below me, slowly washing away like waves on a beach as it’s replaced with the action in front of me. Comfort fills over me, and a momentary respite begins to flutter, my mind full with transformation.

Playing Spider-Man with my older brother, there was a clear border between the characters. Me, playing the hero saving the day, and the evil-doers distorted by a life of crime. But below me, the arguing that ensued was different. I idolized both sides, both mother and father. Both playing the hero in my story, I had to ask the question: who was the villain? My brain powered up like a rocket ship in search of answers far above my small, powerless self. 

Passing the controller off to my older brother, who was far better at Spider-Man than I was, I started wondering more about the game I was playing. The meaningless characters in a simple fifty dollar video game proved more thought provoking than any prior experience in my life. Who were the people I was fighting with? Why was I hurting these people so badly? Why are these people doing bad things that no one I knew personally would? To these questions, the game had no answer. Only I could come up with the answers to these questions that I was posing. 

Although I wouldn’t realize it at the time, those questions were immediately answered, providing me with understanding and maturity beyond my years. No one side was correct in their thinking. Two people that were fighting for something they believed to be completely true. A situation riddled with complexity, that for good and bad was forever altering a child’s mind. Spider-Man, the game, was over. I had lost interest, as now I could see the falsities hidden inside, clear as day.