It Wasn't Trash He said there was more and more hope the farther away from the rez Mr. P was a pretty hopeful guy for being one of the only white guys stuck on the reservation. I wonder where he got all his hope. I wrote him a note to ask him where he got his hope. He wrote me one back. Dear Junior, My hope comes from Spencer. Before I lived on the reservation, I lived in Reardan and I taught at North Pines High School (it’s very similar to Reardan the school). Unlike I do here, I taught English to ninth graders, not geometry. I started teaching at age 24 and in this story I’m 27. So, in my fourth year of teaching, a new teacher arrived from the reservation to teach algebra. Her name was Ms. Spencer Hoskie. She was my hope. Needless to say, I liked her and she liked me. Everyone called us the “petit pair” because we were both pretty short. We were a cute couple. We dated for a while; going to see movies, having picnics, eating dinner, and all the normal date stuff. Many of our dates were at her house. She would make us dinner then we would watch a movie in the living room. While we watched, I would always fall asleep in her arms and she would let me saying, “Go to sleep my love.” We would do this at least once a week. I loved her so much. When our relationship was getting serious, she was called back to the reservation because one of the teachers there was shot and killed. I was horrified and didn’t want her to leave because the reservation seemed so dangerous, but she had to go. She was leaving in three days. Three more days together. Three more days of dates. Only three more days of true love. The day of her departure, she drove to my house so I could say goodbye. When she pulled up on the street, I ran out to her and gave her a long and loving hug. Looking at the sadness in her eyes, I knew I couldn’t bear watching her drive away, so I just gave her a quick kiss on the cheek and walked back in the house. I shut the door behind me and leaned against it for about five seconds before I opened it up again, ran to the car, and jumped in the passenger seat. I was going to the reservation too. The drive wasn’t too long, but when we arrived at Wellpinit it was already night. Throughout the entire trip, I was thinking about the new school on the reservation and how different it would be from North pines. Not only would it be filled with Indians, but I also had to teach geometry instead of English. I would be completely out of my comfort zone, but I stopped thinking about it when we arrived at the reservation. After dropping our bags off at our new home, we ran to the nearest chapel and got married. It was just the two of us and a priest, and even though none of my family or friends were there, it was the happiest night of my life. The night of the marriage, we were talking about the upcoming day (the first day of teaching at Wellpinit). The conversation went something like: "Can you believe tomorrow is already the first day of school?” "Yeah, I'm a bit worried. I’ve never taught Indian students. They’ll be pretty wild.” "What do you mean? They aren’t savages, you know?” "But they’re Indian. You know how they can be.” "I was an Indian student once. Am I too wild for you?” "Of course not. I didn’t mean it that way.” "Oh, I know exactly what you meant.” Then she got really mad. She found a book on the table and chucked it at me at full speed. Her rage had taken over her and stormed out the door. She just grabbed her coat, shoved her feet into her boots and charged through the front door, I waited for her to come home. I was sitting on the couch in the living room shaking my right leg with my forehead leaning on my fists on my knees. I kept glancing up at the door expecting her to come bursting through and give me a huge hug, but she never did. Eventually I grabbed my coat and shoes and went out looking for her. As I’m walking along the sidewalk looking for Spencer, I see a lump of something in the middle of a crosswalk. Thinking it was trash and it might cause a crash, I went over to drag it to the side of the road. That's when I realized it wasn’t trash. It was Spencer. I found her cold dead body in the middle of the road just as a pool of crimson was forming around her head. I turned her body face-up to see if she was alive, even though I already knew the answer. I kneeled on the road and just held her tightly whispering, “go to sleep my love” into her ear. I stayed crouched on the street for what seemed to be an hour before someone passing called the police and an ambulance picked her up. She was gone forever and it went from being the happiest to the saddest night of my life in minutes. Later that night, I found out that she walked all the way down to the casino and was on her way back home. While she was crossing the street to get to our house, a drunk driver crashed into her at 80 mph and killed her on the spot. For a while I had nightmares about us peacefully watching a movie in her living room and a car would come crashing through the bedroom wall and kill us both. I would always wake up in cold sweats and be breathing extremely hard like I just ran a marathon. This happened every night for about four weeks, but eventually I would just wake up in the middle of the night and not be able to fall asleep again. It's gotten better, but I sometimes still have bad nights filled with nightmares (that's why I don't come to class sometimes). The night of the crash, I thought that drunk driver took away all my hope for good, but I was wrong. When I met you, my hope returned along with the memories of Spencer and all the amazing times we had together. When you threw that book at me, it reminded me of the night Spencer died. She threw that book to leave behind the darkness of the reservation, and so did you. When you threw that book, I remembered all the hope I had back then before it was taken away, but only now do I realize that nobody can take away your hope if you hold on to it tight enough. Arnold, you need to leave this reservation, and fast. Don't lose your hope like I did. Don't wait your entire life to realize that hope is everlasting. It can't be taken unless you give it up yourself. Best of luck to you, Mr. Przybyszewski It's Based On Hope My story fits perfectly into The Absolutely True Diary of a Part-Time Indian because it focuses on one of the major themes of the entire book, which is hope. My story explains how Mr. P, one of the main sources of Arnold's hope, was full of hope before he came to the reservation and is slowly regaining that hope with the help of Arnold. One piece of evidence to support that Mr. P was once full of hope is when he is speaking with Arnold about his years as a younger teacher. "But I was young and stupid and full of ideas. Just like you" (Alexie 36). Another piece of evidence to prove that he lost his hope is a line Mr. P later says to Junior. "You kept your hope. And now, you have to take your hope and go somewhere where other people have hope" (Alexie 43). This line also shows that Mr. P really cares about Junior, which is why he would take the time to write to Junior like he did in my story. Another line used to show Mr. P's commitment and support for Arnold is the last line of the chapter Hope Against Hope. "You're going to find more and more hope the farther you walk away from this sad, sad, sad reservation" (Alexie 43). Not only is Mr. P faced with having to leave his hometown and come to the reservation, but he also has to switch the subject he's teaching. When he is living is Reardan, he teaches English. This is supported by one of the drawing in the book that had a word bubble saying, "Tried to start a Reservation Shakespeare theater company" next to a drawing of Mr. P (Alexie 29). When he moves to the reservation however, he teaches mathematics. This change is supported when Junior sees Mr. P walk into the classroom carrying a load of math textbooks. "I was sitting in a freshman classroom a Wellpinit High School when Mr. P strolled in with a box full of geometry textbooks" (Alexie 28). In my story, a drunk driver kills Mr. P's wife, Spencer, as she is crossing the street. Having Mrs. P be killed by a drunk driver is very realistic because many people on the reservation are killed due to being drunk. Junior finds this out when his grandmother is murdered by a drunk driver too. "I mean, the thing is, plenty of Indians died because they were drunk. And plenty of drunken Indians have killed other drunken Indians" (Alexie 158). Mr. P is always tired and some people call him lazy, but he actually is just deprived of sleep. He has problems with arriving to his job on time because of his sleep deprivation, and Arnold telling the weirdest thing about his geometry teacher supports this. "But no matter how weird he looks, the absolutely weirdest thing about Mr. P is that sometimes he forgets to come to school" (Alexie 28). Arnold reminding Mr. P of his wife is realistic because they both threw a book at him. "Of course, I was suspended from school after I smashed Mr. P in the face" (Alexie 32). In my story, Mrs. P throws a book at Mr. P because she was upset with him for being racist against Indian, and Arnold throws his book at Mr. P because he was fed up with the whole school system on the reservation. However, Mr. P being an understanding person forgave both his wife and Arnold because he knew he deserved both hits. Some lines from my story that capture the whole essence of The Absolutely True Diary of a Part-Time Indian are, "Don't lose your hope like I did. Don't wait your entire life to realize that hope is everlasting. It can't be taken unless you give it up yourself." These lines from Mr. P to Arnold reflect the general idea that anyone can succeed if they have hope. Even though both Mr. P and Arnold have suffered in the past, they can still further their futures as long as they keep their hope. Success isn't based on whether someone is White or Indian; it's based on the amount of hope they have.
It Wasn't Trash
He said there was more and more hope the farther away from the rez Mr. P was a pretty hopeful guy for being one of the only white guys stuck on the reservation. I wonder where he got all his hope. I wrote him a note to ask him where he got his hope. He wrote me one back.
Dear Junior,
My hope comes from Spencer. Before I lived on the reservation, I lived in Reardan and I taught at North Pines High School (it’s very similar to Reardan the school). Unlike I do here, I taught English to ninth graders, not geometry. I started teaching at age 24 and in this story I’m 27. So, in my fourth year of teaching, a new teacher arrived from the reservation to teach algebra. Her name was Ms. Spencer Hoskie. She was my hope.
Needless to say, I liked her and she liked me. Everyone called us the “petit pair” because we were both pretty short. We were a cute couple. We dated for a while; going to see movies, having picnics, eating dinner, and all the normal date stuff. Many of our dates were at her house. She would make us dinner then we would watch a movie in the living room. While we watched, I would always fall asleep in her arms and she would let me saying, “Go to sleep my love.” We would do this at least once a week. I loved her so much.
When our relationship was getting serious, she was called back to the reservation because one of the teachers there was shot and killed. I was horrified and didn’t want her to leave because the reservation seemed so dangerous, but she had to go. She was leaving in three days. Three more days together. Three more days of dates. Only three more days of true love.
The day of her departure, she drove to my house so I could say goodbye. When she pulled up on the street, I ran out to her and gave her a long and loving hug. Looking at the sadness in her eyes, I knew I couldn’t bear watching her drive away, so I just gave her a quick kiss on the cheek and walked back in the house. I shut the door behind me and leaned against it for about five seconds before I opened it up again, ran to the car, and jumped in the passenger seat. I was going to the reservation too.
The drive wasn’t too long, but when we arrived at Wellpinit it was already night. Throughout the entire trip, I was thinking about the new school on the reservation and how different it would be from North pines. Not only would it be filled with Indians, but I also had to teach geometry instead of English. I would be completely out of my comfort zone, but I stopped thinking about it when we arrived at the reservation. After dropping our bags off at our new home, we ran to the nearest chapel and got married. It was just the two of us and a priest, and even though none of my family or friends were there, it was the happiest night of my life.
The night of the marriage, we were talking about the upcoming day (the first day of teaching at Wellpinit). The conversation went something like:
"Can you believe tomorrow is already the first day of school?”
"Yeah, I'm a bit worried. I’ve never taught Indian students. They’ll be pretty wild.”
"What do you mean? They aren’t savages, you know?”
"But they’re Indian. You know how they can be.”
"I was an Indian student once. Am I too wild for you?”
"Of course not. I didn’t mean it that way.”
"Oh, I know exactly what you meant.”
Then she got really mad. She found a book on the table and chucked it at me at full speed. Her rage had taken over her and stormed out the door. She just grabbed her coat, shoved her feet into her boots and charged through the front door, I waited for her to come home. I was sitting on the couch in the living room shaking my right leg with my forehead leaning on my fists on my knees. I kept glancing up at the door expecting her to come bursting through and give me a huge hug, but she never did. Eventually I grabbed my coat and shoes and went out looking for her.
As I’m walking along the sidewalk looking for Spencer, I see a lump of something in the middle of a crosswalk. Thinking it was trash and it might cause a crash, I went over to drag it to the side of the road. That's when I realized it wasn’t trash. It was Spencer.
I found her cold dead body in the middle of the road just as a pool of crimson was forming around her head. I turned her body face-up to see if she was alive, even though I already knew the answer. I kneeled on the road and just held her tightly whispering, “go to sleep my love” into her ear. I stayed crouched on the street for what seemed to be an hour before someone passing called the police and an ambulance picked her up. She was gone forever and it went from being the happiest to the saddest night of my life in minutes.
Later that night, I found out that she walked all the way down to the casino and was on her way back home. While she was crossing the street to get to our house, a drunk driver crashed into her at 80 mph and killed her on the spot. For a while I had nightmares about us peacefully watching a movie in her living room and a car would come crashing through the bedroom wall and kill us both. I would always wake up in cold sweats and be breathing extremely hard like I just ran a marathon. This happened every night for about four weeks, but eventually I would just wake up in the middle of the night and not be able to fall asleep again. It's gotten better, but I sometimes still have bad nights filled with nightmares (that's why I don't come to class sometimes).
The night of the crash, I thought that drunk driver took away all my hope for good, but I was wrong. When I met you, my hope returned along with the memories of Spencer and all the amazing times we had together. When you threw that book at me, it reminded me of the night Spencer died. She threw that book to leave behind the darkness of the reservation, and so did you. When you threw that book, I remembered all the hope I had back then before it was taken away, but only now do I realize that nobody can take away your hope if you hold on to it tight enough. Arnold, you need to leave this reservation, and fast. Don't lose your hope like I did. Don't wait your entire life to realize that hope is everlasting. It can't be taken unless you give it up yourself.
Best of luck to you, Mr. Przybyszewski
It's Based On Hope
My story fits perfectly into The Absolutely True Diary of a Part-Time Indian because it focuses on one of the major themes of the entire book, which is hope. My story explains how Mr. P, one of the main sources of Arnold's hope, was full of hope before he came to the reservation and is slowly regaining that hope with the help of Arnold. One piece of evidence to support that Mr. P was once full of hope is when he is speaking with Arnold about his years as a younger teacher. "But I was young and stupid and full of ideas. Just like you" (Alexie 36). Another piece of evidence to prove that he lost his hope is a line Mr. P later says to Junior. "You kept your hope. And now, you have to take your hope and go somewhere where other people have hope" (Alexie 43). This line also shows that Mr. P really cares about Junior, which is why he would take the time to write to Junior like he did in my story. Another line used to show Mr. P's commitment and support for Arnold is the last line of the chapter Hope Against Hope. "You're going to find more and more hope the farther you walk away from this sad, sad, sad reservation" (Alexie 43).
Not only is Mr. P faced with having to leave his hometown and come to the reservation, but he also has to switch the subject he's teaching. When he is living is Reardan, he teaches English. This is supported by one of the drawing in the book that had a word bubble saying, "Tried to start a Reservation Shakespeare theater company" next to a drawing of Mr. P (Alexie 29). When he moves to the reservation however, he teaches mathematics. This change is supported when Junior sees Mr. P walk into the classroom carrying a load of math textbooks. "I was sitting in a freshman classroom a Wellpinit High School when Mr. P strolled in with a box full of geometry textbooks" (Alexie 28).
In my story, a drunk driver kills Mr. P's wife, Spencer, as she is crossing the street. Having Mrs. P be killed by a drunk driver is very realistic because many people on the reservation are killed due to being drunk. Junior finds this out when his grandmother is murdered by a drunk driver too. "I mean, the thing is, plenty of Indians died because they were drunk. And plenty of drunken Indians have killed other drunken Indians" (Alexie 158).
Mr. P is always tired and some people call him lazy, but he actually is just deprived of sleep. He has problems with arriving to his job on time because of his sleep deprivation, and Arnold telling the weirdest thing about his geometry teacher supports this. "But no matter how weird he looks, the absolutely weirdest thing about Mr. P is that sometimes he forgets to come to school" (Alexie 28).
Arnold reminding Mr. P of his wife is realistic because they both threw a book at him. "Of course, I was suspended from school after I smashed Mr. P in the face" (Alexie 32). In my story, Mrs. P throws a book at Mr. P because she was upset with him for being racist against Indian, and Arnold throws his book at Mr. P because he was fed up with the whole school system on the reservation. However, Mr. P being an understanding person forgave both his wife and Arnold because he knew he deserved both hits.
Some lines from my story that capture the whole essence of The Absolutely True Diary of a Part-Time Indian are, "Don't lose your hope like I did. Don't wait your entire life to realize that hope is everlasting. It can't be taken unless you give it up yourself." These lines from Mr. P to Arnold reflect the general idea that anyone can succeed if they have hope. Even though both Mr. P and Arnold have suffered in the past, they can still further their futures as long as they keep their hope. Success isn't based on whether someone is White or Indian; it's based on the amount of hope they have.