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4.24 AVERAGE
4.24 AVERAGE
I was about a quarter of the way though this book before I realized it's YA [duh]. Anyway, that allowed me to immerse myself more deeply into the story, which is heartwarming and sad and hopeful and funny all at once. And there's an accompanying documentary, which I'll definitely check out.
Arshay Cooper grew up in the worst part of west Chicago. His mom is a drug addict, his brothers are in gangs, he has nothing going for him. Ken, who rowed crew at Penn decides to try to start a crew program at an all black inner high school in Chicago. The book describes the transformation in Arshay's life b/c of this team. Impressive story, but also shows why so many kids never have a chance to get out of a horrible life.
I got the kindle edition as a goodreads give away. So glad I did. It’s an uplifting story about changing the lives of inner city teenagers by giving them a chance to do something different. With the positivity and support of coaches, parents, and each other these kids “rowed against the current of life and survived.”
In the hands of a great author, this definitely would have been something special. It's a neat story, and there were some golden moments for sure, especially Cooper's thoughts and reflections on race, etc. He seems like a very wise person, and I'm really glad for him and his family that they overcame a very difficult life, found faith, and made a better life for themselves. Ultimately though, he's not a great writer, and I spent much of the book just wanting it to end. So many parts felt so juvenile, even though he wrote it all these years later. And I feel like maybe he had a writing teacher or an editor at some point tell him that he shouldn't use contractions, which made so much of the dialogue clunky and unnatural. I'm interested in watching the documentary, but I probably wouldn't recommend the book.
Some really great parts:
"It's hard to believe in the American Dream when you walk home through streets of abandoned buildings scattered with baggies of drugs."
"God called us out of the ghettos to go back to the ghettos and make a difference. We are called to reach the treasures out of darkness, people who were once not people, but are now beautiful people of God."
"We're in the late ’90s, I can't believe that first black anything still exists."
"Don't forget where you come from."
"I don't forget," I tell him, "that's why I don't go back."
"Maybe if the judge saw Ike as his own son, he would have offered a therapist and some form of education instead of jail time. And things could have been different around here."
"We are so used to people we encounter talking at us. Nagging us, yelling at us without knowing anything about us. They tell us to do things but don't want to take the time to get to know us. Ken always talks with us. He spends time with us, learns our jokes, our ways, our inner strengths and weaknesses. Ken uses his time, talent, and treasure to get to know us."
"Arshay, if you go to court today, the case will be called The People versus Arshay Cooper. It's you against the system."
"In the hood, the cemetery is full of young guys who wanted to be cool."
"The relationship between those who serve and protect and my community is nonexistent. I don't know what it is like to be the child of a cop who hopes that their parent makes it home safe after working in a community I am afraid to walk in. I don't want to hate cops, because I remember when my grandfather was abusive to my granny, and they showed up and removed him when no one else would. I don't know how tough it is to be them. I know what it is like to be me. Amidst this chaos on the West Side, I have never sold drugs, punched, shot, or disrespected anyone in any way. I mean, I haven't even broken a plate, and I still had my face pressed down on a police car numerous times. It's not fun when they stick their hands down your pants, looking for drugs. Once, when an officer took my backpack and flipped it upside down and made me pick my books up, I had so much on my mind. I wanted to tell the cop that I recited the preamble to the United States Constitution in front of my whole class with pride. One night I cried myself to sleep because I couldn't remember the Declaration of Independence for my eighth-grade history class. I wanted to tell the cop that I put my right hand on my chest, took my hat off, and sang the national anthem at my first baseball game with goose bumps. I pledge allegiance to the flag, I help old ladies cross the street, and I work with kids. I want to stand up for myself, but any wrong move can scare him and get me killed, then what? What will they say about me? That I am on the crew team or I live on the West Side? What picture will they show? Me holding an oar or the one with my hat turned backward? Will I get a flag on my casket or cheap drugstore roses? I am scared, too. Most joes will flee in this situation. When a kid is penalized for being black and walking, you think just to lie or run from the police. It doesn't mean you’re guilty. I should have told that cop that I am American! But when you are advised to shut your mouth from the cops and your peers, there is no hope to see through each other's eyes. At the Victory Outreach homes, they preach a lot about accountability. I think that word is the answer. If black people hold other black people accountable for killing their own, things may change, and I am slowly seeing them speak out in our local events. If white people speak out against other white people about racism, that helps this country. I am noticing this happening in the media. What I have not seen yet is cops marching against other police officers that mistreat blacks. When that happens, I believe then we are moving toward change."
"I feel like the coaches develop them too much as athletes and not as good human beings."
"Winter in Chicago feels like a pair of windshield wipers, slapping you from side to side for four months straight."
"The power of speaking the right words to a young person can do something magical."
"There were cap guns to play cowboys and Indians, fake machine guns that made loud noises, and rubber knives to play cops and robbers. There were water guns to play war and shoot at strangers, or to shoot at each other to keep us cool during the summer. When the streetlights came on, it was time to go inside, so we played with our stiff green army men and lined them up to shoot at each other. We had cheap toy wrestlers and cartoon heroes to fight each other until we fell asleep. If you were lucky, you had a Nintendo. It came with a gray and black gun that everyone wanted, and we felt tough when we held it and shot at the screen. Before you knew it, guns and fighting were considered cool and the violent movies we watched just added to it. By ten years old, everyone knew how to construct make-believe paper pistols. When we got older and the real thing became easy to find, they felt familiar in our grip. On my block, you were respected for carrying a gun and criticized for carrying a book."
"When you represent something larger than yourself and your career, real change happens. So when we step out into that boat in Grand Rapids, I don't want people to see a crew team but young men who rowed against the current of life and survived."
"I will never understand how a man can kill another man, and then wake up the next morning and go about his day."
Some really great parts:
"It's hard to believe in the American Dream when you walk home through streets of abandoned buildings scattered with baggies of drugs."
"God called us out of the ghettos to go back to the ghettos and make a difference. We are called to reach the treasures out of darkness, people who were once not people, but are now beautiful people of God."
"We're in the late ’90s, I can't believe that first black anything still exists."
"Don't forget where you come from."
"I don't forget," I tell him, "that's why I don't go back."
"Maybe if the judge saw Ike as his own son, he would have offered a therapist and some form of education instead of jail time. And things could have been different around here."
"We are so used to people we encounter talking at us. Nagging us, yelling at us without knowing anything about us. They tell us to do things but don't want to take the time to get to know us. Ken always talks with us. He spends time with us, learns our jokes, our ways, our inner strengths and weaknesses. Ken uses his time, talent, and treasure to get to know us."
"Arshay, if you go to court today, the case will be called The People versus Arshay Cooper. It's you against the system."
"In the hood, the cemetery is full of young guys who wanted to be cool."
"The relationship between those who serve and protect and my community is nonexistent. I don't know what it is like to be the child of a cop who hopes that their parent makes it home safe after working in a community I am afraid to walk in. I don't want to hate cops, because I remember when my grandfather was abusive to my granny, and they showed up and removed him when no one else would. I don't know how tough it is to be them. I know what it is like to be me. Amidst this chaos on the West Side, I have never sold drugs, punched, shot, or disrespected anyone in any way. I mean, I haven't even broken a plate, and I still had my face pressed down on a police car numerous times. It's not fun when they stick their hands down your pants, looking for drugs. Once, when an officer took my backpack and flipped it upside down and made me pick my books up, I had so much on my mind. I wanted to tell the cop that I recited the preamble to the United States Constitution in front of my whole class with pride. One night I cried myself to sleep because I couldn't remember the Declaration of Independence for my eighth-grade history class. I wanted to tell the cop that I put my right hand on my chest, took my hat off, and sang the national anthem at my first baseball game with goose bumps. I pledge allegiance to the flag, I help old ladies cross the street, and I work with kids. I want to stand up for myself, but any wrong move can scare him and get me killed, then what? What will they say about me? That I am on the crew team or I live on the West Side? What picture will they show? Me holding an oar or the one with my hat turned backward? Will I get a flag on my casket or cheap drugstore roses? I am scared, too. Most joes will flee in this situation. When a kid is penalized for being black and walking, you think just to lie or run from the police. It doesn't mean you’re guilty. I should have told that cop that I am American! But when you are advised to shut your mouth from the cops and your peers, there is no hope to see through each other's eyes. At the Victory Outreach homes, they preach a lot about accountability. I think that word is the answer. If black people hold other black people accountable for killing their own, things may change, and I am slowly seeing them speak out in our local events. If white people speak out against other white people about racism, that helps this country. I am noticing this happening in the media. What I have not seen yet is cops marching against other police officers that mistreat blacks. When that happens, I believe then we are moving toward change."
"I feel like the coaches develop them too much as athletes and not as good human beings."
"Winter in Chicago feels like a pair of windshield wipers, slapping you from side to side for four months straight."
"The power of speaking the right words to a young person can do something magical."
"There were cap guns to play cowboys and Indians, fake machine guns that made loud noises, and rubber knives to play cops and robbers. There were water guns to play war and shoot at strangers, or to shoot at each other to keep us cool during the summer. When the streetlights came on, it was time to go inside, so we played with our stiff green army men and lined them up to shoot at each other. We had cheap toy wrestlers and cartoon heroes to fight each other until we fell asleep. If you were lucky, you had a Nintendo. It came with a gray and black gun that everyone wanted, and we felt tough when we held it and shot at the screen. Before you knew it, guns and fighting were considered cool and the violent movies we watched just added to it. By ten years old, everyone knew how to construct make-believe paper pistols. When we got older and the real thing became easy to find, they felt familiar in our grip. On my block, you were respected for carrying a gun and criticized for carrying a book."
"When you represent something larger than yourself and your career, real change happens. So when we step out into that boat in Grand Rapids, I don't want people to see a crew team but young men who rowed against the current of life and survived."
"I will never understand how a man can kill another man, and then wake up the next morning and go about his day."
emotional
inspiring
reflective
medium-paced
Great story & gave me lots to think about. The bones are really good, but it doesn’t flow well & overall read like a high school essay. The story is really interesting, though, so I would still recommend to anyone in the rowing world!
A beautiful and inspiring true story about how a black boy from the Westside of Chicago was able to escape his neighborhood and found solace in a high school rowing team. Despite having the deck stacked against him, an addict mother, gang affiliated brother, and non existent father, he manages to stay in school taking solace in poetry and high high school crush. One day at lunch he sees a rowboat and a couple of coaches who encourage him to try out for the team. While he has no idea what he is getting into it turns into the best decision he can make as it provides stability, community, a sense of belonging, ambition, and a way to a brighter future. We see the paths his teammates/friends take as well, some are able to pursue rowing as well while other are forced to drop because of family or other concerns, so there is a solid juxtaposition of how decisions can affect life paths.
informative
medium-paced