So I (Matt) know I’ve written about my cousin being in a movie that just came out (Gone Baby Gone), numerous times. We saw it on Saturday. It's good.
I am done selling the movie though I still have a personal interest it. Why? The takes place in the two neighborhoods where my mother grew up: South Boston and Dorchester. I now believe my interest has less to do with the fact that a cousin is an actor in the movie, and more to do with my own childhood experiences. I didn’t grow up in these neighborhoods, but they are the places I spent the majority of childhood, outside of the town where I grew up (until age 14). Before today, I hadn’t really thought of this movie (and other movies about South Boston) in terms of my own experience. After reading a review of the movie, it got me thinking. Mainly, the following excerpt did:
“It's what you don't choose in life that make you who you are." He goes on to give examples like family, or where you were born, while the camera sweeps across the hardened blue-collar streets of Dorchester, Mass., eventually landing smack in the middle of a community grieving the disappearance of a little girl who was kidnapped from her bed. Those of us on the outside looking in would describe these people as "white trash" -- the kind of folks that made Jerry Springer a household name -- but to Patrick, this is home. These are the people he grew up with, these are the people he'll grow old with, and these are the people he'll go out of his way to protect.”
I won’t debate movie inferences on how these to supposedly rough neighborhoods are portrayed. I can share my experiences as a young boy in the 1970's.
I remember these neighborhoods as a child, filled with extended family. There were family members everywhere, all the time... cousins, uncles, aunts, you name it…..stopping in saying hello and leaving. I remember men in brown leather jackets with polyester collars sticking out. I remember the smell of cigarettes in enormous Cadillacs with the first automatic windows I had ever seen. To this day, when I get into a car that smells of a certain brand of cigarette, I feel good for no reason.
I remember ancient uncles and aunts looking upon me as a young child and saying “He-ah’s a dollah Methew, go getcha self an ice cream.” If I had a dollar for every dollar I was given to go get an ice cream.
The homes contained furniture and a certain familiar smell of the past. They reminded me of what it must have been like to live in Boston in the 1940’s: older, ornate, wooden furniture and giant stair cases. Upon arriving, the first thing my grandmother would do would demand a hug. During the hug, she would say “ooooooh, that’s a gooood boy.” Then, she would make me eat. Even if I wasn’t’ hungry, refusing food was not an option.
I remember the same question over and over again: "Methew, ah you studying hahhd in school? Ah you doin yah homework?" My answers would of course be ‘yes’ and ‘yes’ while the truth was ‘no’ and ‘no.’ I didn’t study and do homework (much), but this doesn’t mean I wasn’t paying attention.
I remember smiles, hugs, pats on the back, good-natured interrogations, listening to advice, listening to everything…activity and chatter.
Outside of these places, Kid World was very different. Kid World (minus any family, nuclear or extended) in a small, quiet town was a very scary place, while in Extended Family World (the supposedly “rough” South Boston and Dorchester) I felt protected and safe.
There were first communions, confirmations, weddings and funerals. All of them at St. Brendan’s in Dorchester. During these occasions, whether in sadness or celebration, the sense of family was always there. When my grandmother died at 99 (in 2005), my Uncle Jimmy (who is a Firefighter in South Boston) said that it was an end of an era. He was right, but whatever intangible family thing that I cannot describe here, did not end.
From the memories mentioned above, jump almost 30 years later. During the most tragic event that my immediate family (Maryland) ever experienced, the South Boston and Dorchester people got up and left the places they never seem to leave.. and came here to Maryland for support. After a funeral, there was the same chatter that I remember as a child....the same questions..the same feeling. Next time, I am sure the reason for receiving these guests will be to celebrate something, rather than mourn.
The way you learn about family helps you learn abut relationships and friendships. I'm no wise old sage (better looking than this guy though), but I can give examples. I still speak with my oldest friend (since 8 years old) on a regular basis. I recently had lunch with the first friend I made when my family moved to Maryland ( in 1986). I will be starting a new job soon, thanks to the first friend I made in college (in 1990). So, I don't really care if a movie paints a broad brush in how it portrays two neighborhoods in Boston. I already know.
I am done selling the movie though I still have a personal interest it. Why? The takes place in the two neighborhoods where my mother grew up: South Boston and Dorchester. I now believe my interest has less to do with the fact that a cousin is an actor in the movie, and more to do with my own childhood experiences. I didn’t grow up in these neighborhoods, but they are the places I spent the majority of childhood, outside of the town where I grew up (until age 14). Before today, I hadn’t really thought of this movie (and other movies about South Boston) in terms of my own experience. After reading a review of the movie, it got me thinking. Mainly, the following excerpt did:
“It's what you don't choose in life that make you who you are." He goes on to give examples like family, or where you were born, while the camera sweeps across the hardened blue-collar streets of Dorchester, Mass., eventually landing smack in the middle of a community grieving the disappearance of a little girl who was kidnapped from her bed. Those of us on the outside looking in would describe these people as "white trash" -- the kind of folks that made Jerry Springer a household name -- but to Patrick, this is home. These are the people he grew up with, these are the people he'll grow old with, and these are the people he'll go out of his way to protect.”
I won’t debate movie inferences on how these to supposedly rough neighborhoods are portrayed. I can share my experiences as a young boy in the 1970's.
I remember these neighborhoods as a child, filled with extended family. There were family members everywhere, all the time... cousins, uncles, aunts, you name it…..stopping in saying hello and leaving. I remember men in brown leather jackets with polyester collars sticking out. I remember the smell of cigarettes in enormous Cadillacs with the first automatic windows I had ever seen. To this day, when I get into a car that smells of a certain brand of cigarette, I feel good for no reason.
I remember ancient uncles and aunts looking upon me as a young child and saying “He-ah’s a dollah Methew, go getcha self an ice cream.” If I had a dollar for every dollar I was given to go get an ice cream.
The homes contained furniture and a certain familiar smell of the past. They reminded me of what it must have been like to live in Boston in the 1940’s: older, ornate, wooden furniture and giant stair cases. Upon arriving, the first thing my grandmother would do would demand a hug. During the hug, she would say “ooooooh, that’s a gooood boy.” Then, she would make me eat. Even if I wasn’t’ hungry, refusing food was not an option.
I remember the same question over and over again: "Methew, ah you studying hahhd in school? Ah you doin yah homework?" My answers would of course be ‘yes’ and ‘yes’ while the truth was ‘no’ and ‘no.’ I didn’t study and do homework (much), but this doesn’t mean I wasn’t paying attention.
I remember smiles, hugs, pats on the back, good-natured interrogations, listening to advice, listening to everything…activity and chatter.
Outside of these places, Kid World was very different. Kid World (minus any family, nuclear or extended) in a small, quiet town was a very scary place, while in Extended Family World (the supposedly “rough” South Boston and Dorchester) I felt protected and safe.
There were first communions, confirmations, weddings and funerals. All of them at St. Brendan’s in Dorchester. During these occasions, whether in sadness or celebration, the sense of family was always there. When my grandmother died at 99 (in 2005), my Uncle Jimmy (who is a Firefighter in South Boston) said that it was an end of an era. He was right, but whatever intangible family thing that I cannot describe here, did not end.
From the memories mentioned above, jump almost 30 years later. During the most tragic event that my immediate family (Maryland) ever experienced, the South Boston and Dorchester people got up and left the places they never seem to leave.. and came here to Maryland for support. After a funeral, there was the same chatter that I remember as a child....the same questions..the same feeling. Next time, I am sure the reason for receiving these guests will be to celebrate something, rather than mourn.
The way you learn about family helps you learn abut relationships and friendships. I'm no wise old sage (better looking than this guy though), but I can give examples. I still speak with my oldest friend (since 8 years old) on a regular basis. I recently had lunch with the first friend I made when my family moved to Maryland ( in 1986). I will be starting a new job soon, thanks to the first friend I made in college (in 1990). So, I don't really care if a movie paints a broad brush in how it portrays two neighborhoods in Boston. I already know.
4 comments:
RIGHT ON THE MONEY!
TEatr
Wonderful text, Matt, it made me cry. You are SO lucky to have known all that...
dddddd
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