Whenever someone mentions nostalgia, many people immediately think of their childhood. For a lot of people it was a time to be cherished; a time full of fun and adventure. Many people look back fondly on their childhood, remembering watching Saturday morning cartoons and playing pretend in the backyard.
There is a lot of media and other things that can trigger these nostalgic feelings. Recently French Toast Crunch was rereleased with a box whose sole purpose was to trigger nostalgia towards the 90s. VH-1 ran several TV series 100% based on nostalgia, such as I Love the 90s and My Coolest Years.
Bridge to Terabithia is a novel that stirs up nostalgic feelings, though it was not created to in the same way as I Love the 90s. The setting is contemporary to when it was written, but it deals with children and childhood. The book is about a young boy, named Jess, who befriends his new neighbor named Leslie. Together, they discover a hidden part of the forrest and create a whole, imaginary kingdom there. There is no real driving plot to the story; instead it focuses on what it was like to be a kid.
I entire time I was reading Bridge to Terabithia, I kept having one of two thoughts. 1) I wish I was a child again. Or 2) I wish I had a child. I have not consumed media that made me long for my childhood as much as Terabithia. There were so many things that I directly related to that reading the book was a trip down memory lane.
At the school where Jess goes to, the older boys (sixth and seventh graders) would play with the sporting equipment during, while the younger boys would race each other. The girls would play hopscotch and jump rope. The recess at my school was similarly segregated. One way was in basketball. The basket court was essentially saved for fifth and sixth graders. The fifth graders would play against the sixth graders. I was not very good at basketball so I did not play very often; but when I did, it was because I was one of the tallest kids in my grade.
Our soccer field was also separated, though, in a slightly less politically correct way. There was no distinction between age groups or grades; instead it was the white kids against the Mexicans. The only white kid to play on the Mexican team was Spencer Sutherland. I do not know why, but he had a helluva kick.
Another part of the story that reminded me of my childhood was Terabithia itself. Growing up, I did not have an entire made of world like Jess and Leslie did. But I did have a place, our treehouse on the other side of the pasture behind my grandma's house, that I would frequent. I would go out there and play GI Joes with my brother and cousins. We would find sticks and use them as guns. I even had a tree stump that doubled as a motorcycle. We would go back there and play all the time.
But the part that made me reflect the most was when Christmas rolled around. There is this small passage about when Jess got a racing-car set from his dad. It was not working properly and he could tell that his father was not happy with it. Jess knew his dad spent more money on it than he should have so Jess desperately wanted it to work so his dad would be proud he got it.
It made me reflect on all the times I had gotten something for Christmas that I did not particularly like/want but that I did not want to make my parents feel bad for getting it. And after thinking about receiving and giving presents for a while, it made me realize that I had been a ungrateful child. Without going into too much personal detail, those 13 lines made me reflect and rethink Christmas more than anything else ever had.
Bridge to Terabithia brought childhood to life. Reading this book was pure nostalgia. Nothing I have read or seen before had made me wish I was a kid again so bad. I love the 90s is cool and all; but that is superficial and mostly explores pop culture items. Bridge to Terabithia, on the other hand, explores what it is actually like to be a kid.
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