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Last Updated: Feb 19th, 2009 - 14:49:11 |
Next Stop: Growing Up Wild-Style in the Bronx, Ivan Sanchez’s coming-of-age memoir, follows the in illustrious tradition of first-person narratives, such as Claude Brown’s Manchild in the Promised Land, in which the book’s protagonist transcends the unholy urban underground to achieve salvation. It’s a classic tale of a young man who goes straight after a life of crime told with a hip-hop backdrop.
In the book, graffiti vandalism and cocaine dealing signify the bloom of rap culture as Sanchez tells the story of his young crew navigating the treacherous Bronx in the 80’s and 90’s. Even though Next Stop shows similarities to classic autobiographies by authors of color, the memoir seems to lack the organization and political acuity to make a singular mark on the genre. Nevertheless, Sanchez’s tales of territorial beefs on Creston, Bailey, and Heath Avenues provide a chilling look at the Bronx’s violent hoods during the rise of hip-hop.
Sanchez, whose mother retreated to Virginia Beach to escape her son’s vehement lifestyle, finds shelter in a drug-financed apartment subsidized by Jamaicans. His connections to the drug trade immerse him in a world of turmoil and tragedy, leading him to witness drug lords, gangsters and a phalanx of young friends die before their time.
In the midst of attending funerals and watching his peers go off to jail, Sanchez finds himself struggling to earn an honest living but succumbs the call of easy money. Sanchez recalls a job he had working at a Korean-owned clothing store where he memorized the alarm code and used it to later burglarize the shop with a bunch of hoodlums. In a confession filled with reflection and remorse, he writes, “I had no business robbing those hard-working Korean people, who made a living working sixteen hour days, and I’m glad I didn’t profit from the robbery.”
Still, Sanchez never really elaborates on his transformation from street life to a legit lifestyle. The current youth advocate and motivational speaker, who holds both an associate degree and a bachelor’s degree, ends his memoir with an offhand tribute to his graffiti days and neglects to mention the defining moments that steered him to the straight and narrow path. There’s a fine line between retelling and glorifying and Next Stop does teeter on the right side, but time will determine the work’s lasting message—and impact.
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