"More than We Bargained for."

Aaron Bolton and Cassandra Buehler

Aaron

When I was eight years old my family went on a winter church retreat together. My family was very involved in the church at the time. So they would fill positions helping out for the retreat and I would just go along and play around and play hockey on the lake with my cousin. We were too young to be involved with the older kids retreat activities. Me and my cousin were playing hockey and got bored and wanted to explore the whole lake. We asked my dad and he said yes, just watch out for black ice he said. “You will fall through if you step on black ice” he told us very sternly. Off we went and explored the lake for hours and what we found was much worse than what my dad told us to avoid. We found an open spot of water on the other side of the lake. There was a piece in the shape of a peninsula stretching out into the open spot. My cousin and I didn’t listen very well and thought that we could chip this piece off from the rest of the ice and safely float across the whole to the other side. We grabbed rocks and chipped at it until it finally broke away from the side of the lake we came from. The piece almost immediately after breaking it away crumbled and we fell into the icy water. This is where my subjectivity as an author comes in. I remember me jumping from piece to piece only sinking to my knees before getting back to solid ice as we were only a couple feet out when it crumbled. My cousin went under but made it to the edge and I pulled him out only to have his boots come off from being stuck in the mud. He went under water to get his feet back into them and I pulled him out. We ran back and went to the kitchen where my dad was cooking and talked to him. My cousin says I fell back onto the edge when the piece broke, I don’t think that happened due to only being wet up to my knees. My dad also remembers when seeing us that I was only wet up to my knees and my cousin wet from head to toe. My cousin also remembers an extra part that I don’t recall with us talking in the cabin about whether to tell our parents before going to the kitchen to talk to my dad what happened. So now I left this out because I don’t recall this, I feel this conversation was being discussed between us in hindsight in the cabin after telling my dad when we were hanging up our wet clothes. Our family is close but his family and mine always held somewhat different opinions and we disagree a lot and its more due to if they differ in any way both of our families think the other is wrong. Our families politics also factor into my subjectivity or picking of facts as Spigelman states.

This picture is from the same winter that we fell through the ice. As you can see I was very small for eight years old. This shows the idea that I could have jumped rather than fall back to the edge as I would not have been able to reach that far. Also that fact that I was so young and my cousin is a couple years older present another problem that he may be better able to remember this event. My family Habitus still prevents me from believing his story.

             

                       

Nothing is ever a simple affair in my family. Seemingly innocuous events always turn into some sort of debacle. Case in point, my sisters, Stephanie, Ashley and I were excited. We were cheering at the Women’s Minnesota Gopher’s basketball game. My mom was busy curling our hair into perfect ringlets and I was caught up with the fact I got to wear just a little bit of makeup for the first time. It made me feel older, just like my sisters. Eager to leave, my mom hurried the six children into our van and we hit the road.

            Before arriving at the stadium we had to make a quick stop at my dad’s house to drop my little brother off and to meet up with my aunt and cousin who were riding with us to the game. We were then on our way to my first big performance as a cheerleader. Upon arriving, my family took their seats and my sisters and I met up with the rest of our team. The butterflies in my stomach created an enthusiasm I had never experienced and once on the court the feeling only grew. After the performance we got to join our families and watch the rest of the game. When it was over, we hurried to our van and rushed to my dad’s trying to get home as soon as possible because the children were exhausted and getting a little cranky.

            We arrived at my dad’s and my mom told us to stay in the van, making sure to lock the doors because the keys were still in the ignition. We kids didn’t really mind because we just wanted to get home and the task of getting us all in and out of the van took an amount of effort none of us had. I was still hung up on the excitement of the night and just needed to tell my dad all about it, so I went inside. Shortly after my little sister said she needed to go to the bathroom. Ashley took her in, leaving my sister Stephanie and handicapped brother, Joe waiting in the van. As Ashley walked up the driveway a mysterious man jumped in the van and zoomed out of site.

            Screaming at the top of her lungs Ashley bolted into the house and tried to explain what happened. My aunt raced out the door chasing after the missing vehicle, jumping into random cars asking for help. With nobody responding, she continued to run. Excitement turned to hysteria and my mom immediately called the police. After what seemed like an eternity Stephanie and Joe were returned. The man had jumped out of the van and my aunt brought my siblings back. The police questioned the kids and eventually arrested the man. What had started as a fun filled family outing, ended with the resounding reminder when it comes to my family, we always get more than we bargained for.  

            Both of these stories show how the authors subjectivity brings certain things to the foreground and leaves others in the background. The selecting of facts by the author presents how we want to represent ourselves in the story. Do we want our selves to be the focal point or the event at hand? We both chose to focus on ourselves with the narrative from our perspective but we vary in our subjectivity by the story of the van getting stolen focused more on the narrative from the authors angle and the ice story focused more on the event at hand only to return to the view point of the author when describing the discrepancy. The representation of the facts picked form the history that we hear, read in text books, and see. 

Everyone in my family experienced this event differently, therefore remembering it differently. For me, at first I had no idea what was going on. Everyone around me was screaming, so I knew something bad had happened, but didn’t know exactly what until after my siblings were returned. I remember the hysteria. My brother and sister, the ones who were taken, they thought they would never be returned. My sister contemplated jumping out of the van, but didn’t because she couldn’t leave my brother. They remember the terror. Like I said, my aunt chased after the van in hopes of catching it and getting my siblings back. She remembers the physical exhaustion and what it would have meant if she didn’t catch the van. My mom, she called the police while trying to keep the rest of us kids calm. She remembers the reality of the situation and the fear of losing her children. My sister, Ashley, she is the one who left the door unlocked as she went inside the house. She remembers the guilt of feeling like it is her fault. Like I said, we all experienced this event differently and therefore what we remember about it is different as well.