Blythe's Book 10: I'm Down

I finished I'm Down about a week ago and have been putting of writing about it ever since. My students have been reading self-selected novels and autobiographies lately, and I caught one of my smarter, cooler kids reading I'm Down last month. Being that he is smart and cool, I decided I wanted to read what he was reading-- even when his endorsement of it was a little lackluster. I should have heeded his reaction (which was something like "Eh. Yeah, it's kinda funny.") BUT... Look at the cover and you'll understand why I was pretty confident I'd like it. I'm Down is the story of Mishna Wolff's childhood (no, you shouldn't know who she is-- yet another memoir by a nobody). Mishna is a white girl whose childhood is spent living with her father in a predominantly African-American community. Her dad is determined that Mishna will be as "down" as possible. He grew up in the neighborhood and excels at being "down"-- which seems to mean he has mastered playing dominoes, enjoying unemployment, and letting down his various African-American girlfriends, who all hold stable jobs and try to support his family. Sound racist? Yeah, well... that's her reality, and her portrayal of it was pretty no-holds-barred. Unfortunately, Mishna just doesn't fit in. She attends a private academic school on scholarship, hates sports, and is at the butt of every cracker joke you could imagine. It doesn't help that her sister is as street as they come and fits in everywhere and with everyone. The memoir is basically devoted to showing how tough Mishna had it, and if it weren't for the dedication (something to the effect of "Thanks to my Dad for providing me with the best childhood I was too stupid to appreciate as a child") and the last few lines of the memoir, you really wouldn't realize anything but how much she hated her life and how out of place she felt. There were some funny parts-- I picked up a few new "yo mama" jokes and had to laugh at some of the eccentricities of her family... but I finished the last page feeling underwhelmed. Maybe that's the bad thing about the genre-- if this was fiction, it could have totally been better. Reading this was the equivalent of watching a kid being punished by their parent in public; part of you pities the kid, part of you empathizes with the parent, but 90% of the experience is wrapped around feeling uncomfortable because you're being forced to witness something that would be better off dealt with behind closed doors. Mishna's dad is selfish and immature; Mishna is selfish and painfully vulnerable; their faults and misunderstandings are exposed in detail-- not my ideal book to cozy up with on the couch.