I always knew we were different. He lived in a big house on Not Doctor Street, and I lived in the Southside. He had a family, and I was abandoned. But it didn't bother me. We could just as well get along and go where we wanted.
But as we grew up, our experiences diverged. We became men and no longer children, and with that came the economic labels slapped onto us. No one said it to him, but he would always be the rich one who could pass around the white. He didn't see how often I was stopped by the police. In fact, he didn't realize why it was so humiliating until it happened to him. He didn't see these black deaths as his people or possibilities for himself-- just a random tragedy. And when it mattered most, I realized: he wasn't my man. I wasn't his people, and he wasn't mine.
And like the saying goes, if you're not with me, then you're against me.
He would not support my plans, let alone understand them. He nearly took sides with the white men, and that meant that he could act just like them. We searched for the same thing (gold), and if he was going to use it for another purpose, that meant he would be preventing me from fulfilling mine. I understand that his father never left him, but how could he be so ignorant to abandon his whole race?
So it became clear to me that, for the greater good, I would have to break down my barrier.
But as we grew up, our experiences diverged. We became men and no longer children, and with that came the economic labels slapped onto us. No one said it to him, but he would always be the rich one who could pass around the white. He didn't see how often I was stopped by the police. In fact, he didn't realize why it was so humiliating until it happened to him. He didn't see these black deaths as his people or possibilities for himself-- just a random tragedy. And when it mattered most, I realized: he wasn't my man. I wasn't his people, and he wasn't mine.
And like the saying goes, if you're not with me, then you're against me.
He would not support my plans, let alone understand them. He nearly took sides with the white men, and that meant that he could act just like them. We searched for the same thing (gold), and if he was going to use it for another purpose, that meant he would be preventing me from fulfilling mine. I understand that his father never left him, but how could he be so ignorant to abandon his whole race?
So it became clear to me that, for the greater good, I would have to break down my barrier.
I like ur writing style in this and that its kind of a more detailed backstory to why Guitar aimed to kill Milkman. good jobebbeebb
ReplyDeleteI really like your POV of Guitar. It really fits in with the book and provides a possible explanation for Guitar's thinking and motives.
ReplyDeleteI found your stance and perspective as Guitar really fitting and gives us an interesting explanation as to why he felt that he needed to kill Milkman.
ReplyDeleteI like how you tied in all the details and made it Guitar's reason to kill Milkman. I thought the beginning was really interesting since this could've been what Guitar could've thought of Milkman from the start.
ReplyDeleteI liked your writing style of Guitar and I used it as inspiration for my blog post. This was a great writing technique so much so that I could easily tell that you were writing about Guitar without mentioning his name. I also feel like this is what is going on with Guitar in 1st person and I think you executed Guitar's thoughts behind his actions well.
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