I'm Down: A Memoir

by Wolff, Mishna

  ______

  That evening we went to McDonald’s. Anora was so stoked about how well she did with the race and kept doing her little victory dance, occasionally interrupted by singing the phrase, “Can’t touch this.” But Dad and I had left it all in the lake. I plopped into our booth and watched Dad try to set down his tray with shaky arms. And when he went to sit down in the plastic chair, he moved like his back was made of bruised bruises. But that didn’t stop him from smiling.

  “Well,” he said, “hurry up and get some calories in you all. You lose a lot of calories from the swim, but you lose even more from the water.”

  “You really owned it out there, Dad,” I said.

  “Ahh, you know . . .” Dad shrugged.

  “I couldn’t make it.”

  “You could. You just didn’t!” he said.

  “Can’t touch this!” Anora said her mouth half-filled with fries already. “Do-do-do dun-duh dun-duh . . . Can’t touch this!”

  “Anyway, we’re all out there to have a good time, and I think we did that.” He stuffed a Filet-O-Fish in his mouth. But I could see he was still smiling even while he chewed. He was feeling good about himself.

  The eating took over and we were all quiet, which was helpful for me, because it quelled the jealousy I was feeling. I wanted to be big about everything, but I wasn’t quite big enough. I couldn’t fully accept not having finished the swim. I’d done it for my dad, but it was completely unnecessary. And even worse, since I’d gotten in the boat, I was actually starting to believe my own story—that I was a loser that couldn’t even make it across the lake.

  I was deep in thought when I realized my sister for some reason needed to dip her fries into my ketchup and kept leaning over me and making a big show of it. After watching her do this four times, I grabbed her wrist and she looked me in the eye and whispered a high-pitched, “Mama.” It caught me by surprise and I laughed. It was the kind of laugh that catapults you out of your head and back to your family and the ambience of Rainier Valley McDonald’s.

  I pointed to my ketchup. “Can’t touch this.”

  She laughed and tried to wrestle her wrist loose.

  Dad looked over at us and went back to looking at a man dressed as the mascot Hamburglar heading out to the playground. He asked the air, “Is that Darnell?” Darnell was the son of a woman who lived around the corner from us. Dad had coached him at football for a season at the community center.

  “I don’t know how you could tell,” I said. “He has that big head on.”

  “He moves like Darnell. He had that bad right shoulder,” Dad said, still trying to make out the guy in the furry head. “But I don’t know why he’d be dressed as a cartoon character.”

  “Least he has a job,” Anora said, and although she was absolutely busting on Dad, he somehow found a way to make what she said a joke about jobs and not about him. Dad went back to studying Hamburglar, and Anora looked at me giddily to see if I picked up on her joke, but my face was not amused.

  “Well, that’s what Yvonne says,” she said to me under her breath.

  Dad stopped looking at the mascot and looked over at us again. “What are you guys talking about?”

  “Anora was just telling me about finishing the race.”

  Dad nodded and smiled.

  “Dad,” I said.

  Something about the tone of my voice made him avoid eye contact he picked at a spot on the table, “Yeah.”

  “I just . . .”

  “You’re not coming back from your mom’s house. That’s okay.”

  “What?” I said, realizing I wasn’t ready to have this conversation yet. Things were still too raw between us. “That’s not even what I was gonna talk about. I love you and Yvonne and the family.”

  “I know . . . I gotta let you go.” Dad started to tear up but he wouldn’t let himself. He got up out of his seat still looking at the mascot, and said to the air, “You win.”

  “I don’t understand,” I said, but Dad was headed toward the playground and had detached from the conversation.

  “I’m gonna go see if that’s Darnell!” he shouted back, and he was out the door. I couldn’t believe he was just walking away on that note. He strode out the glass doors and across to the playground as though nothing had happened. Anora just shrugged, as confused as me. She laid her head on the table and closed her eyes like a wind-up toy that had run out of wind-up. I looked around McDonald’s, and maybe it was because I was so physically exhausted or maybe it was everything that had happened in the last few months, but I felt warm and totally alone—like I was in a sleeping bag. It was very quiet and I saw Anora on the table and Dad talking to the mascot outside, and I was truly free. And I had no idea what to do with all this freedom. I could try out for the football team, I could join the ski club, I could practice violin every day—none of it mattered.

  Dad walked back in and threw himself down at the table. “That wasn’t Darnell,” he said.

  “What?” Anora said, waking up from her fake sleep. “You woke me up.”

  “Stop with your playing,” he said. “I was gone like a minute. . . . Anyway, that wasn’t Darnell, it was another guy that I don’t know . . . Joe something or other.” And as quickly as it had come, the silence vanished.

  “Sorry, Dad,” I said.

  “For what?” he asked defensively.

  “That it wasn’t Darnell.”

  “Come on,” he said. “Get your stuff, let’s go.”

  Dad started hustling Anora and me out of the restaurant, but I was glued to my seat. I didn’t want to leave McDonald’s and I didn’t want the day to end, because I didn’t know what came next. Dad was gonna be fine. Just like Dad was gonna make it across the lake. I was worried about me.

  On the cold van ride back to Mom’s, I looked out the window as I left the Rainier Valley feeling insecure and free floating. It was like heading into the first day of school after Dad had shoved me off with the vague direction, “You be you.” Dad must have felt my fear over on the driver’s side because he looked over at me and smiled. It was a reassuring look that set me at ease. Even though he was dropping me off at my mother’s, and when we’d see each other again was vague, his eyes read, “My girl.”

  Author Q & A

  The first thing we all want to know is “Where are they now?” regarding your dad, your sister, and your mom. What happened to them?

  They all had their own different struggles, some of which you saw in the book. But they really grew amazingly as people and I’m so proud to call them my family (I hope they feel the same). Mom retired this year from driving her bus and has time to think and just do whatever for the first time I can remember. Anora is an actress and she’s so good at it. Dad does real estate and yes…he finally fixed the house. Most importantly, they are with people who really love them.

  And what about you? Did you ever start that lucrative anesthesiologist practice you always dreamed of, or did you end up sleeping on that stained mattress? What happened to you after the book ended?

  I definitely put my time in on the mattress. I quit high school and my life really took an interesting course that included high fashion modeling, stand-up comedy, and some continued personal struggles that I will hopefully get the chance to write more about.

  Has your dad read the book? How does he feel about it?

  Let me ask him.

  MW: Dad, how do you feel about the book?

  JW: I feel so proud for your accomplishments, and the hard work you put into this. And the affection you have for me is clear. And if I can add, I’m also so proud and amazed at how many different people relate to this book. It’s a great thing. And, well…there are no do-overs for parents.

  Do you still have a relationship with Yvonne, Yvette, and Andreus? Have they read the book?

  I don’t have a relationship with them and that’s more my doing than anything else. I really peeled off from my family in my late teens and it wasn’t until after Yvonne and my dad split th
at Dad and I really tried to work on our relationship with any humility. Their divorce was rough and they remarried other people and never saw each other again.

  How were you able to make peace with the darker aspects of your growing up years?

  Writing. I was able to access feelings on the page that I hadn’t really ever looked at. It also gave me some perspective. You can’t write a book—even nonfiction—without getting into everyone’s head. It was a real opportunity to see what everyone around me was struggling with. And ultimately I was able to stop seeing so much as personally directed at me. It was just them being them and they had some issues.

  After growing up in such a crazy family, what kind of parent will you be to your own son or daughter?

  Are they really that crazy? Kidding, sort of. I feel like child rearing is a more heated subject than politics. I have a lot of very well-intentioned philosophies about attention and limit-setting, but when push comes to shove I can’t be sure that my kid(s) won’t be writing memoirs about me in thirty years.

  A Reading Group Guide

  If I’m Down was to be made into a movie, which actor would you cast to play Mishna’s dad? And who would you choose to play any other member of her family?

  The tone of I’m Down shifts from beginning to end. The memoir starts out funny but gets more serious as Mishna gets older. Do you find the shift in tone effective, and why do you think the author chose to write the book this way?

  In the chapter “I’m in a Cappin’ Mood,” Mishna masters the arts of insult comedy and street fighting in order to fit into her neighborhood. But when she’s sent to a rich white school, she’s ostracized for exercising these skills. What does this say about her two different peer groups? And does it say more about race, class, or educational background?

  How do your feelings about Mishna’s father change over the course of the book? Are you left loving him, hating him, or something in between?

  When Mishna asks her father and his buddies if she can go skiing, it incites an argument over which sports are “black” and which ones aren’t. How has “blackness” come to mean more than just skin color, both in this book and in society at large?

  How does the author use her experience to comment on racial identity?

  I’m Down is not only about race. It’s also about growing up in the lower class. This division becomes more obvious to Mishna when she’s sent to “rich school.” What are some of the themes about social class?

  The book’s dedication reads: “To my mom and dad, who gave me the best childhood I would never have been smart enough to ask for.” What do you take away from that?

  In the chapter “What’s the Matter with White People,” what is the author’s message about family dynamics and individual values in some privileged white families she encountered? According to the author, what is the matter with white people, and do you agree with her position?

  In the final two chapters, Mishna recalls a swimming competition in which her dad insists on joining her team, but he lags behind because he’s out of shape. Mishna is so worried about him that she quits the race, but her dad continues swimming to the end. What does this episode say about the hold Mishna’s father has on her? And why do you think she chose to end the book with this particular memory?

  If I’m Down had a serious, staid literary cover, would you view the book any differently?

  After reading this book, have any of your views about racial identity changed?

  For more reading group suggestions, visit www.readinggroupgold.com