"Wait Till Next Year" Shares Charming Stories from Everyday Life

     The memoir genre is one that continually impresses. Far richer in content than a mere autobiography, they tell the truer, richer story of the individual. We often tend to think that riveting tales are limited to those we read in fiction or see on the big screen, and that the "mundane" of everyday life is barely worth sharing. Defying these assumptions however is the memoir genre, and in particular, Doris Kearns Goodwin's Wait Till Next Year. Even those who, like me, are unfamiliar with Goodwin's career as a renown American historian are sure to take interest in her story. 

     Set in Long Island, New York in the midst of the 1950s, Goodwin fondly recalls some of the most memorable years of her childhood as they coincided with the roller-coaster journey of her favorite baseball team, the Brooklyn Dodgers. Her adventures with neighborhood friends and deep fondness for the game of baseball are reminiscent of other great American tales like the Sandlot. In describing her childhood Goodwin creates in readers a longing for the innocent freedoms and endless joys that are to be found in a safe and loving childhood. 

     

     While Wait Til Next Year certainly is a sweet and heartwarming memoir, some portions of the book can at times be difficult to follow, especially if one does not know much about the sport of baseball. Goodwin often dives into detailed accounts of baseball-related memories, in which she drops names and terms that only avid lovers of the game could understand. As someone who never watches baseball and hardly understands its rules, I often found myself extremely confused while reading these sections.

     

     In many ways Goodwin's story paints an overly-romanticized picture of the "ideal American life". She occasionally acknowledges her privilege, and does briefly address a few of the inequalities in existence during the time period, but in many ways hers is still a very one-sided portrayal of America in the 50's (granted it is her memoir, so she is allowed to write about the realities of her experience). 

     Nevertheless, while reading I often found myself thinking about the individuals and groups who have never been able to realize the "American Dream" that was so easily achieved by Goodwin's family and those that shared their complexion. None of this is Goodwin's fault of course, but in this age of reckoning with systemic racism one can't help but think that her memoir is the textbook example of white privilege in action. 

    

     Ultimately Goodwin's tale is uplifting, and shows to readers how beautiful stories and rich memories can be made in even the most seemingly banal contexts. In Wait Til Next Year not only does Goodwin masterfully draw readers into her childhood utopia, but also proves herself to be quite a fine storyteller. More importantly her tale proves that we all have a story worth sharing, that most certainly deserves to be heard.