Ending with a Bang (of Sadness)

At the beginning of this course, I wrote a blog post questioning why we don't call our transitional years of childhood coming of age and I decided that I would write one at the end about the same topic. I guess I'm still not totally sure why they're different, so I'm not going to do that. Instead, I'm going to talk about Sag Harbor. Originally I didn't really like this novel, although I'm not sure why. Maybe part of it is that senioritis is weighing down on my *big time* but also I think it had something to do with the fact that I haven't really been connecting with Benji. However, in the chapter "Breathing Tips of Great American Beatboxers," I felt a stronger connection with him as he interacted with Uncle Nelson. Benji has shown us all along that he is kind of dorky, not your average "rough" teenage boy, and he has stood out from the others in his crew. Unlike Bobby, for example, who "wanted word to get back to his parents [of him asking Uncle Nelson for beer], to prove that despite accepting the car..., he could still bring them misery," Benji doesn't want to piss of his parents (Whitehead 204). He doesn't want them to hear that hey asked Uncle Nelson for beer, he doesn't want them to find the house dirty, and he doesn't want them to know that he has a BB in his eye socket. When Uncle Nelson says "Now, it's your turn to do all that stuff we used to do," Benji tries to act natural "in case [he says] something kidlike, and he [changes] his mind" (Whitehead 205). This reminded me of a time last summer when my parents gave me permission to go with my cousin to a party at his friend's house. I was shocked as they would have never given me permission at home and we were in a big city (should be more dangerous, right?), so I did my best to avoid the topic for the rest of the week so that they wouldn't think better of it and not let me go anymore. I realized that, like myself, Benji doesn't want to disappoint or upset his parents, so he tries to keep the stuff that they wouldn't approve of on the down low. When Uncle Nelson gives him permission and encouragement to do "normal teenager stuff," Benji is really happy and I felt happy for him, too.
The other time during this chapter that I really connected with Benji was towards the end during the second description of his and Bobby's encounter with Uncle Nelson. He starts thinking about how the place where Uncle Nelson and his friends hung out is now a "haunted house" for them. He starts questioning the future, saying

What would our houses look like thirty years from now? We'd still be here, right? Or would we be out in the world like Uncle Nelson, our homes shadowed, the gutters sprouting flora, the driveways buckled and ripped? Haunted by us. And one of the other houses up the block or around the corner the new hangout spot for the next generation. Those future kids tossing pebbles at our windows and running away screaming, or daring each other to knock on the door. Double-dare you--crazy people used to live there and they'll get you. (Whitehead 220)

As the end of my high school career comes to a close, I've been thinking a lot about the past and the future. So many people who have been around me and on the same path as me for the last few years are going in completely different directions, but I still feel like their lives will be part of my life because they're my friends and I follow them on Instagram and we'll come back together for summer vacations and reunions. But I haven't thought about 20 or 30 years from now. Will I come back to Uni then? If I do, how will it have changed? Will people talk about my handprint, or will it be painted over? Uni has been such a strong presence in my life, but in a couple of decades, Uni will have forgotten me. Sag Harbor held a very dear place in Uncle Nelson's heart, but now all he is there is a crazy, old, embarrassing failure to most of the Sag Harbor community. Benji is just starting to realize that here, and so am I. That's kind of a sad, depressing note to end this post on, but I don't really know what else to say...