48 pages • 1 hour read
Kate MessnerA modern alternative to SparkNotes and CliffsNotes, SuperSummary offers high-quality Study Guides with detailed chapter summaries and analysis of major themes, characters, and more.
Through its use of multiple formats and perspectives, the novel portrays the way racism, bias, and privilege, both implicit and overt, can create harm for individuals and communities. In the beginning of the novel, Nora’s letters to future Wolf Creek residents convey her privilege. As a lifelong resident and daughter of the prison superintendent, she is given automatic respect; because she has grown up in a place where most people look like her and have had similar experiences, her only knowledge of prejudice and discrimination is academic. In school, she has been taught about the heroes of civil disobedience but not that they went to jail for their convictions, and in conversations with Elidee, she reveals how her upbringing has sheltered her from knowing about issues of police brutality and given her preconceived notions of the Bronx as full “gangs roaming the streets” like a “Spike Lee movie” (286). In this way, the novel shows how privilege can even create harm for those who benefit from it, by keeping them ignorant of other perspectives.
Wolf Creek’s residents, who are nearly all white, enjoy the privileges of living in a town that benefits economically from prison without thinking much about its inmates. In the early days of the search, “everyone—from prison employees to curious youngsters—is talking about the search” (71), but they do so in a way that conceives the escape as a game, as practice journalism, or as a way to profit. Martha who runs Joe’s Mountain Market! hopes things will stretch on a little longer because of how much business has increased. Martha also demonstrates how such privilege breeds racism and bias when she suddenly decides to enforce a policy that people must leave their bags at the counter when shopping, which Nora and Elidee recognize is because Elidee is with them. Lizzie’s assumption that “people who know my grandma got arrested have decided I’m a criminal, too” (322) is notable here because she assumes she is Martha’s focus and doesn’t even consider that race could be a factor; the novel uses irony to show how privilege prevents some people from recognizing racism when they see it.
Elidee’s perspective highlights these ideas: “Before we came to Wolf Creek, Mama explained that […] it’s pretty white here—at least outside the prison. Mama says that’s why some people in this town are so ignorant” (218). Elidee experiences the consequences of this ignorance firsthand when Cole and Walker treat her like an object of fascination because her brother is an inmate and when they stereotype and degrade her by making racist jokes about how easily she outperforms Nora in a run. When Walker tries to excuse his racism by saying their other Black classmate is “one of our best friends” (167), he demonstrates how his white privilege makes him assume he has the moral high ground, even when he is showing blatant prejudice. The novel uses Nora’s faltering efforts to defend Elidee to further develop the negative impact of racism and bias on individuals. Though Nora and Elidee are equal participants in the discussion and Nora attempts to defend Elidee by taking the blame, Mrs. Roy’s insistence that “we just don’t put up with that kind of attitude here” (169) shows her implicit bias against Elidee by assuming she is the aggressor in the situation.
In Elidee and her mother’s responses to this bias, the novel shows how people of color feel forced to ignore such prejudices and hide their feelings. Nora observes that “Elidee took a deep breath. She held it so long I thought she might explode. Then she apologized, all calm and quiet. Like she’d practiced it a thousand times” (174). Elidee’s poem about the ham supper, written from her mother’s point of view, reinforces this idea: “It’s all about community, child, you gotta show up/But if I gotta smile much longer I’ma blow up” (201). The use of “explode” and “blow up” emphasizes the difficulty of keeping these feelings inside and how toxic that can become, especially for a child. By presenting contrasting perspectives in the rap battles Elidee writes between herself, her mother, and other residents, the novel shows Elidee’s efforts to cope with this injustice and hypocrisy.
Elidee’s poems and letters to Troy counter the town’s racism by humanizing him. While others refer to him as an “inmate,” her letters emphasize the boy he was before he went to prison and the beloved brother he still is: a person who sold lemonade and loves Starburst, who “lived seven years with a/ big strong hand on [his] shoulder,” (140) before their father died, and who misses him. When Elidee writes, “Sometimes I want to shout, / He has a name, you know. / Troy. / Troy!” (222), she is imploring people to look beyond racism, biases, and labels to recognize people as individuals. The novel suggests that by not considering people like Troy as part of the town’s population and judging Elidee and others on the basis of race, the residents of Wolf Creek are perpetuating a harmful system, unaware of how much damage it causes for them as well as the people against whom they discriminate.
The press conferences and ensuing news coverage of the breakout highlight this theme as different individuals use tone, word choice, and selected details to convey differing perspectives on the same events. The first news report, written to appear like an objective summary of facts, characterizing Wolf Creek as “a sleepy town […] where conversation is usually about moose sightings and macaroni salad” (71), conveys the patronizing tone out-of-town reporters take toward small towns and their residents. This sets the stage for the reporter to dramatize the escape and contrasting the supposedly dangerous criminals with the innocent villagers, thereby sensationalizing the story rather than reporting on it faithfully.
By presenting media coverage from different sources, Breakout elaborates on the subtle ways news reports reveal bias. By providing a transcript of the dry and business-like comments made by the governor and prison officials at the first press conference followed by three different reports, the novel illustrates how a reporter’s perspective can create shades of meaning that get passed on to readers. Nora takes the sincerity of the efforts at face value, focusing on “around the clock” efforts that the state will support “one hundred percent” (103). Lizzie mocks the absurdity of the promise to search “under every rock” in a parody in which one officer comments that “all I found is a lot of ants and one really fast beetle” (104). Elizabeth Carter Wood adopts a scathing tone that calls the escape “an unprecedented lapse in security,” noting that Bill Tucker “refused to talk about who’s to blame” (105).
Breakout highlights the ethics of reporting by focusing on Wood’s purposeful manipulation of Nora in this first report; the professional reporter tells her young admirer they can “compare notes on the big story and you can sort of be an assistant reporter for CNN this week” (102), then betrays her by using her innocent comments to suggest Bill Tucker isn’t effectively doing his job. Through Wood, the novel depicts the danger of reporters manipulating sources and taking information out of context. Wood’s tendency to take a superior tone toward her subjects is emphasized in Nora’s dismay when Wood calls her and Lizzie “curious youngsters” when they are taking better notes than Wood. Because of her interaction with Wood, Nora learns that “there’s a fine line between being a journalist and being a jerk” (118). However, this still doesn’t prevent Nora from asking pointed questions of Elidee at lunch, suggesting she is still influenced by rumors and motivated by the same desire for a story as Wood.
Kate Messner continues to ask pointed questions about the purpose of journalism and how bias can influence the way reporters should treat their subjects. Two side-by-side reports in the Wolf Creek Free Press written by the same staff writer illustrate how media quickly moves to tell one side of a story, dividing people into categories of villain and hero, casting Priscilla Wadsworth as a criminal for supplying brownies before praising the locals who provided the ham supper. The role of bias in shaping perception is then emphasized by an article published in a Manhattan newspaper, where Priscilla is mocked as a “North Country Nana” and a quote from an inmate suggests her habit of “always bringing them brownies and all” (229) was part of a sinister plot. By emphasizing the different tones the reporters take, Messner encourages readers to think critically about whose story is being told, who gets to tell it, and why.
The tone of Lizzie’s parody criticizing Bill Tucker illustrates her own bias, but also emphasizes the way news stories can harm individuals: The news reports have hurt Lizzie and her family, and Lizzie’s parody hurts her friendship with Nora in turn. However, Nora’s examination of credibility and bias prompts her to include the parody with the note that “journalists look at all sides of an issue and try to be fair and inclusive. Even when that includes sharing parodies that say mean things about their dads” (234). Nora’s further insistence that all documents and perspectives she has gathered must be part of the time capsule illustrate that she has learned the importance of this lesson; it demonstrates the theme of Young People’s Ability to Confront Social Issues, including the very timely issue of media’s role in shaping perception.
In many of their letters to future Wolf Creek residents, all three main characters wonder whether things will be different in the town 50 years later, indicating their hope that things will change for the better. Often, though, they conclude these musings with the assumption that little will change because so little has changed already. The adults in the novel frequently represent an inability to recognize or unwillingness to confront racism, bias, and privilege; through them, the novel shows that there are varying degrees to which people accept and perpetuate these problems. Mrs. Jablonski is the kind of person unwilling to consider another perspective, as her views are rooted deeply in racism and bias toward anyone she labels as different. Elidee’s mother’s response to Mrs. Jablonski, that “that woman’s got a heart full of fear and that’s her own problem” (217), shows a recognition of the issue but also her sense that confronting it won’t do any good. Bill Tucker, as prison superintendent, represents another version of this unwillingness to confront problems when he says, “there was no room for personal beliefs in my job. […] I did the best I could” (426). If the whole system is broken, as Sean says, then Bill Tucker views himself as just one small piece that can’t make much difference. While the adults look at history as an excuse for not confronting these issues, the younger characters examine it through the lens of learning what worked and what they can do differently. The Tucker parents’ resistance to discussing systemic racism when the issue is raised at dinner, followed by Lizzie and Nora’s growing interest in the subject, emphasizes this contrast between the two generations.
Throughout the novel, the main characters demonstrate a willingness to look at problems and solve them in new ways. Their creativity in uncovering the inmates’ use of cow shoes while the adults settle into a routine of check points and locked doors is just one example of this. As the girls are forced to confront the problem of injustice, they do so from different perspectives and each in their own way. Troy’s arrest and incarceration, along with the racism Elidee faces, contribute to her perspective. She recognizes that the system is unfair and questions the proportionality of the punishment given to her brother in the lines, “One choice. One mistake. One day. / Your sentence: 15 years” (87). However, she also advises Nora in a written rap battle that she “know[s] a thing or two about choosing battles” (326) and that Nora shouldn’t waste her time on trying to change things. Though Elidee expresses a greater skepticism than Nora that things will ever change, her experiences give her unexpected reason to hope. She scoffs at the students’ petition to reinstate Field Day but shows her simultaneous faith in the power of words in a letter to Troy:
Sometimes you can write whatever you want and it doesn’t matter. I hope that won’t be the situation with your appeal, but I know it might be. You should keep working on it anyway. I’ve decided that I’m going to start working on something, too (257).
As she learns more about injustice because of her friendship with Elidee and the prejudices the breakout reveals in her town, Nora develops her own perspective. Like Elidee, she wavers between hope and despair but doesn’t give up. She demonstrates a willingness to think about and fight back against the attitudes that have allowed these injustices to happen but still wonders “if that kind of attitude is new, since the inmates broke out, or if it was always here, just sort of hiding” (277). When Nora stands up to Cole and Walker in gym class, when she writes a letter to Mr. Simmons about journalistic responsibility, and when she explores the meaning of civil disobedience, she conveys the belief that individuals can and should make a difference. Though Nora’s efforts to defend or understand these issues don’t always work out perfectly, the novel makes the point that at least she has tried. By illustrating the tension that arises during these efforts, the author conveys that hope for change lies in the ability of younger generations to confront these tensions openly, as Nora recognizes that “[i]t’s harder, but I think I’d rather be the kind of person who does,” and hopes that in 50 years, the people reading their perspectives in the time capsule will “have figured some of it out” (430).
Throughout the novel, the inmates and other outsiders are portrayed as villains while the police and other community members trying to catch them are portrayed as heroes. Nora makes the villainization of the inmates explicit after observing the fears of those around her, including her younger brother Owen, when she compares them to the Harry Potter villain Voldemort. They’re also compared to ghosts, and in one of Lizzie’s reflections are “like Bigfoot or the Loch Ness Monster—some weird, scary thing that people love to whisper about but nobody ever sees, so nobody knows for certain if they’re out there or not” (318). Owen’s sketches contribute to the basic premise of good versus bad, as he depicts things like the “[i]nmates’ evil plan” (111) to break into the house and the thank-you he will get “for [his] brave work capturing these bad guys!” (113). Because the inmates are, like mythical monsters, never actually seen by anyone in the novel, they reinforce the idea that people are quick to fear an “other” they do not know or understand.
By extension, anyone trying to catch the inmates becomes a hero. While many of the authority figures in the novel are community leaders like the police, teachers, and firefighters, the theme explores the dangers of unquestioningly assigning a heroic label to someone just because they belong to one of these groups. As Nora concludes, “We like to talk about good guys and bad guys around here. But even good guys do bad things sometimes. And I think people who do bad things—no matter how bad—have to be more than the awful things they did” (427).
Freedom and imprisonment are important aspects of this theme. The Wolf Creek Correctional facility and its giant wall immediately create a distinction between those who are free and those who are not: “Despite the prison wall that looms over Main Street, Wolf Creek is a quaint, small town where safety is usually taken for granted. But not anymore” (71). The reporter’s blithe “not anymore” emphasizes the way the breakout has put the community on alert; as residents begin immediately locking their doors, they become imprisoned by their fear. The way people’s fears and biases create prisons for themselves and others becomes gradually more apparent, as kids are pulled inside, events are canceled, and Mr. Washington and Elidee become targets for suspicion. Elidee even feels jealous of Troy’s literal prison “because even though you’re in there, at least you’re around some other people who look like you” (325). In prison, being an “other” is the norm, which shows how unwelcoming the town is to anyone—not only prisoners—who represents difference.
By Kate Messner