How to Make an Outsider Cry: Empathy and Reality in “Wildwood”

I should preface my examination of Junot Diaz’s “Wildwood” by declaring my role as an outsider. Yes, believe it or not, Eero is not a Dominican Name. I cannot speak fluent Spanish, nor can I—to my immense embarrassment—identify any key elements of Dominican history or culture. I blame our public school system, but that’s not the point. My point is that despite our completely different languages, perspectives, and cultures, I connected deeply with Junot Diaz’s character of Lola de Leon in “Wildwood”. I believe that the fictitious character Lola is effective because of Diaz’s emphasis on empathy. He illustrates Lola’s lifelong struggle with abuse in a vivid, personal, and realistic way. This intentional humanization of Lola creates a powerful link between fiction and reality. 

My entire argument—at least why Lola feels both personal and relatable—rests on the admittedly large assumption that humanity is caring; that the things we watch and read have the capacity to evoke joy and tears and laughter and sorrow. In other words, we possess empathy. Diaz’s introduction of Lola in “Wildwood” would ring hollow without certain intentional creations of empathy. The first and in my opinion, most powerful was Diaz’s choice to make Lola’s mom abusive. This characterization of Lola as a child of abuse makes her feel far more personal. At the beginning of the chapter, Diaz writes that “as kids [they] were more scared of [their] mother than we were of the dark or el cuco. She would hit [them] anywhere, in front of anyone, always free with the chanclas and the correa” (55). This is our first introduction to her home life, a brutal and vivid image of fearful children cowering from abuse. For me, this was when Lola stopped being a fictional character. In this instance, she was embedded with the uniquely human struggle that countless children deal with. She simply reflected a personal reality.

Unfortunately, this one snapshot will never give me a complete picture of Dominican culture, nor am I certain it is an accurate representation. But that is yet another reason fiction is a powerful form of writing. These fictional characters are written to embody real spaces. Their movements, goals, and actions are reflective—even in the most minuscule ways—of the identity of their creators. Perhaps that is another reason why Lola’s relationship with abuse felt so personal; Diaz populated his fictional world with elements of his reality.  

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No Name Woman and the Role of Storytelling in the Kingston’s Creation of Self

Throughout her short story entitled “The Woman Warrior”, author Maxine Hong Kingston utilizes storytelling as a form of rebellion, rejecting the cautionary allegory passed quietly through her family about the role and restrictions of womanhood. She instead creates an alternative representation of the story, demonstrating the realistic complexity of being a woman in her Asian-American community.

Firstly, the rebellious nature of Kingston’s piece is central to our understanding of her central purpose. She begins the chapter with her mother’s words: “You must not tell anyone… what I am about to tell you”(Kingston 1). Ironically, Kingston’s entire piece—and its existence—is a rejection of this opening sentence. She details the story her mother told her, about her nameless aunt who became pregnant and was tormented by her community, eventually throwing herself and her unborn child into the well.

In her mother’s traditional tale, the aunt plays the role of a passive caricature who existed, was impregnated, ostracized, and then killed herself. Her role is simply a harsh omen and warning for women in Kingston’s family and community. This is apparent in her mother’s conclusion when she states that “now you have started to menstruate, what happened to her could happen to you. Don’t humiliate us. You wouldn’t like to be forgotten as if you had never been born”(Kingston 9). The Aunt’s name is never spoken again because she represented failure and was erased, only secretly discussed as the omnipresent reminder of the dangers of womanhood.

In contrast, Kingston’s fictitious retelling is created in direct response to her family’s warnings about pregnancy and sex. In Kingston’s imagined story, her aunt is a beautiful and sexually fulfilled woman who—in an act of strength—refuses to reveal the father of her child even as she is tormented and rejected from her community. Kingston recontextualizes her aunt’s actions as loving, challenging the familial taboo that her mother warns her about in secret.

In her conclusion, Kingston’s mother directly correlates the aunt to Kingston if she doesn’t follow a rigid set of familial and traditional rules. Kingston intentionally recreates a story where the aunt has far more choice, freedom, and autonomy, in an attempt to break the traditional story which confined her choice and the choices of Asian-American women in her community. While Kingston’s story is completely fiction, For her, It is a far more accurate representation of the complexity of being herself.

 

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A Letter to His Sons – How Ta-Nehisi Coates Speaks to Everyone

In the article entitled “Letter to my Son” The author Ta-Nehisi Coates’utilizes a particularly ingenious method to communicate the harsh realities of the black body in the United States: the incorporation of a dual audience. At many points throughout the text, I was unable to recognize whether he was writing with the express purpose of a larger audience or if that segment was directed specifically to his son. It is definitely a combination of both, but it creates an interesting dynamic for the reader; we are unsure whether we are the target of his words or if we are merely intruders in a difficult conversation that black men across America have with their children on a daily basis. 

Coates’ insistence on teaching his son about the harsh realities of the world makes Coates’ own words far more accessible to everyone else. In order to be effective rhetoric for a fifteen-year-old boy, Coates’ speech is simple but powerful. For example, when detailing just how difficult the lives of black men growing up in America is to his son, Coates uses the words “Racism dislodges brains, blocks airways, extracts organs, cracks bones, breaks teeth. You must never look away from this”(Coates 84). This was a highly effective demonstration of Coates’ dual audience because he is vividly portraying both the current and historical implications of racism to both his son and the wider audience. Writing a piece that is hyper-personal charges all of Coates’ words with lived experience. He doesn’t need to make his words overly flowery or complex because he has vivid pictures from years of living in this world as a black man. It makes his piece very simple to connect with and be touched/intrigued by. 

However, while I believe that his piece is accessible to a general audience, the heavy use of a dual audience makes his central point incredibly nuanced. I have concluded that much like his use of two audiences, he also intends separate takeaways, one for his son and one for a wider audience. The first purpose is an attempt to educate his son and to continue to “be a conscious citizen in this terrible and beautiful world”(Coates 91) The second larger purpose is a call to action for those reading it. To understand the horrific history that many people are still living out to this day. Being a black man in the United States is difficult and throughout the text, Coates communicates that idea in the most accessible and brutal way. 

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