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De’Naiza Watson 11/22/2024 Pahomov College English

After Harding had stopped his rant, it became quiet. Eerily quiet. Almost as if a pin could drop and even the Big Nurse could hear it from wherever she was.

Then McMurphy spoke, softer than normal,

“ Are you guys bullshitting me?’, then it got louder.

“Are you guys bullshitting me!”, then it got quiet again.

Then he paced, up and down, back and forth, before he came and stopped near me. I felt his presence before I saw him. My back turned away from everyone else. My back was turned, but I was listening.

I was waiting for it, anticipating it.

I listened as he went on. Speaking, shouting, outraged.

“ You Billy – you must be committed for Christakes!”

“No”, I answered, still not facing the group.

“ You oughta be out running around in a convertible, bird doggin girls. Why do you stand for it?”

He quickly moved on from me. I was no longer interested in the machinery before me, with my back turnt, I listened.

“You could get along outside if you had the guts”, Murphy said aloud again, throughout his entire rant that is the moment that struck me, that’s what stood out.

Guts, if I had the guts. In that moment I can’t recall if I had felt angry, or if I had afterall been sad. Before I even realized, I turned around.

“ Sure!”, I yell the first time. The words came out louder than I had anticipated.

“ Sure” I shout a second.

That’s it, I remember now, I remember how I’d felt. I was angry. Not just at McMurphy, but at myself. If I had the guts. I wouldn’t be here. If I had the guts, who knows what I’d be doing right now.

“If we had the g-guts! I could go outside t-today, if I had the guts. My m-m-mother is a good friend of M-Miss Ratched, and I could get an AMA signed this afternoon, if I had the guts!”

Then I remember I got really angry. I got up and grabbed my shirt, I wanted to leave right now. I could show McMurphy I had guts. But then, I turned around again.

“You think I wuh-wuh-wuh-want to stay in here? You think I wouldn’t like a con-con-vertible and a guh-guh-girl friend? But did you ever have people l-l-laughing at you? No, because you’re so b-big and so tough! Well, I’m not big and tough. Neither is Harding. Neither is F-Fredrickson. Neither is Suh-Sefelt. Oh - oh, you - you t-talk like we stayed in here because we liked it! Oh - it’s n-no use …”

I wanted to keep going, I wanted to keep talking, but then my anger turned to sadness. I went, turned to run, then I don’t really remember much of what happened after that.

It’s silly to me, because on paper I’m normal. As I sit and write to you. You’d have no idea what was wrong with me.I aint deaf like Broom, I dont got any weird thoughts in my head.I envy McMurphy, not for the reason everyone else thinks. He’s got a confidence about him that separates him from us. Maybe if I had the guts, nobody would know what’s wrong with me.

If I had the guts.

Reflection: The stylistic choice I chose to make during my writing was to have Billy Bibbit narrate a scene where he got emotional. I chose to focus on Billy intellectually instead of Billy socially. There’s nothing serious that separates Billy from a normal person besides his stutter, and his childlike appearance. He’s consciously thinking, and he’s consciously making choices and decisions like an adult would. He’s not behind. In those scenes, having it narrated from Bromden’s perspective doesn’t help show a lot of the big emotions that can come with the scenario. Especially in Billys case. Billy has a severe stutter, and as someone with a stutter, it’s something I could relate to on a personal level. People working through stutters or having them doesn’t make them lesser in the brain department and that’s a point I wanted to get across by Billy breaking down scenarios in order to better understand between character and reader.

De’Naiza Watson 11/22/2024 Pahomov College English

After Harding had stopped his rant, it became quiet. Eerily quiet. Almost as if a pin could drop and even the Big Nurse could hear it from wherever she was.

Then McMurphy spoke, softer than normal,

“ Are you guys bullshitting me?’, then it got louder.

“Are you guys bullshitting me!”, then it got quiet again.

Then he paced, up and down, back and forth, before he came and stopped near me. I felt his presence before I saw him. My back turned away from everyone else. My back was turned, but I was listening.

I was waiting for it, anticipating it.

I listened as he went on. Speaking, shouting, outraged.

“ You Billy – you must be committed for Christakes!”

“No”, I answered, still not facing the group.

“ You oughta be out running around in a convertible, bird doggin girls. Why do you stand for it?”

He quickly moved on from me. I was no longer interested in the machinery before me, with my back turnt, I listened.

“You could get along outside if you had the guts”, Murphy said aloud again, throughout his entire rant that is the moment that struck me, that’s what stood out.

Guts, if I had the guts. In that moment I can’t recall if I had felt angry, or if I had afterall been sad. Before I even realized, I turned around.

“ Sure!”, I yell the first time. The words came out louder than I had anticipated.

“ Sure” I shout a second.

That’s it, I remember now, I remember how I’d felt. I was angry. Not just at McMurphy, but at myself. If I had the guts. I wouldn’t be here. If I had the guts, who knows what I’d be doing right now.

“If we had the g-guts! I could go outside t-today, if I had the guts. My m-m-mother is a good friend of M-Miss Ratched, and I could get an AMA signed this afternoon, if I had the guts!”

Then I remember I got really angry. I got up and grabbed my shirt, I wanted to leave right now. I could show McMurphy I had guts. But then, I turned around again.

“You think I wuh-wuh-wuh-want to stay in here? You think I wouldn’t like a con-con-vertible and a guh-guh-girl friend? But did you ever have people l-l-laughing at you? No, because you’re so b-big and so tough! Well, I’m not big and tough. Neither is Harding. Neither is F-Fredrickson. Neither is Suh-Sefelt. Oh - oh, you - you t-talk like we stayed in here because we liked it! Oh - it’s n-no use …”

I wanted to keep going, I wanted to keep talking, but then my anger turned to sadness. I went, turned to run, then I don’t really remember much of what happened after that.

It’s silly to me, because on paper I’m normal. As I sit and write to you. You’d have no idea what was wrong with me.I aint deaf like Broom, I dont got any weird thoughts in my head.I envy McMurphy, not for the reason everyone else thinks. He’s got a confidence about him that separates him from us. Maybe if I had the guts, nobody would know what’s wrong with me.

If I had the guts.

Reflection: The stylistic choice I chose to make during my writing was to have Billy Bibbit narrate a scene where he got emotional. I chose to focus on Billy intellectually instead of Billy socially. There’s nothing serious that separates Billy from a normal person besides his stutter, and his childlike appearance. He’s consciously thinking, and he’s consciously making choices and decisions like an adult would. He’s not behind. In those scenes, having it narrated from Bromden’s perspective doesn’t help show a lot of the big emotions that can come with the scenario. Especially in Billys case. Billy has a severe stutter, and as someone with a stutter, it’s something I could relate to on a personal level. People working through stutters or having them doesn’t make them lesser in the brain department and that’s a point I wanted to get across by Billy breaking down scenarios in order to better understand between character and reader.

The Mind Space

The mind is a complex universe within us, something that only we can understand, from ever fragment, every core, the thoughts that we have, the inner voice that helps us create the decisions that we make, but if we’re fortunate enough to find our person to understand, we’re usually left alone to deal with our mind. What makes the mind different from others? How is handling your mind and your perception of the world different from everyone else? A good example of this would be this quote, “There’s a shipment of frozen parts come in downstairs– hearts and kidneys and brain the like. I can hear them rumble into cold storage down the coal chute. A guy sitting in the room someplace I can’t see is talking about a guy up on Disturbed killing himself. Old Rawler. Cut both nuts off and bled to death, sitting right on the can in the latrine, half a dozen people in there with him didn’t know it till he fell off to the floor, dead.” — In the book, One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest, main character Chief Bromden is often someone who is stuck in his thoughts. These thoughts can be very disturbing or very intriguing depending how you look at it. The quote above is an example of his mindset, his mind is so spiral, he thinks of gruesome things, he even thinks of the uncomfortable, but that is what makes the mind– a mind. Throughout the book Bromden’s thoughts deepen and switch between his past and his present, sometimes while reading, the reader’s mind can become fogged as if the fog machine is present in their head, like Bromden’s. Meaning that, the reader becomes confused, intrigued, and their thoughts become more intune with the book. Thinking like Bromden in a way. As for me, reading this book has definitely opened my eyes to how people in Asylum’s could be. Of course with previous knowledge, I already knew a lot, but you never can see the inside of a patient’s mind. You never can have the same experience as them– until you’re them. While reading this book my thoughts varied back and forth, even though Bromden’s thoughts were what people would say were weird, I couldn’t help but relate to him. My mind runs a thousand miles per hour, endless thoughts trembling throughout my mind, thoughts that I wish I didn’t have. These would be called intrusive thoughts, where you think about things that are depicted as “abnormal” for example– a constant thought I used to have that I hated was hurting animals. Of course I would never do such, I love animals, so why was this thought in my brain? For nights I stressed myself out about this. The more I dug that shovel deep into that one thought, the more that thought exploded into gruesome thoughts that transpired into something worse. I would overthink so much about this that my head would start to burn from stress. While this turned into an everyday occurrence for years, I felt at a disadvantage. I didn’t know what to do. Back to the book, there isn’t really anything for the patients to do. Like Bromden, he can’t do anything but think. I feel like me and many others, when it comes to delusion, overthinking, intrusive thoughts, just for saying the wrong thing to someone you can be put inside of a Mental Asylum. Relating to the book, for me, it still confuses me as to why Bromden was in there in the first place. This makes me think about when I was almost taken to an Asylum, all because I said an intrusive thought that bothered me. Feeding into your delusions can be dangerous; it’s like liking a boy but he doesn’t like you back, but you believe that he’ll like you back one day so you sit and just hold onto the possibility of him liking you. You change his contact in your phone to something romantic, you daydream while looking at his pictures, then you try again and ask him out and you’re surprised when he denies you. Being delusional can get your heart broken, can mess up your brain, it can create issues for you that you created for yourself. With Bromden, his thoughts are all over the place which confuses the reader. Even me, I was confused, and offended by his constant comments about Black people. The frequent use of “negro”. But all in all, I relate to Bromden, his mind just runs and runs and never stops, and so does mine, and I wish that it wasn’t like that.

On Friday we sit down for another community meeting forced upon us by Nurse Ratched. I look around at the other men slumped over, and muttering to themselves. These poor useless men guarantee that I’m the only one in here in the right mind. Nah I’m really the craziest of them all and old Ratched knows it. I remember that I’m gonna need them all today, so I put on my very best behavior. I raise my hand and politely request if we could reassess the topic of TV time. Then the goddamn woman informs me that this is therapy and my grievance is too petty to discuss. I don’t take that type of disrespect so naturally I keep speaking my ideas. Then the woman interrupted me again and the next thing she said just drove me mad. She suggests that I’m imposing my personal desires on the other gentlemen in the ward, which I’m sure as hell not. Then she has the audacity to suggest the others would be happier with me gone. I keep it interesting around here, and she knows it. One of the guys speaks up though, and tells old Ratched to give me a chance. They bicker for a while and finally she lets me propose my ideas to the group. I tell them I want a revote on TV in the afternoon and the nurse tells me again that there’s more important things to do, but she eventually gives in. I made a quick joke, and consequently she suggests my removal from this ward again. Clearly this woman, if you can even call her a woman, is invincible to my charm.

I decided that a show of hands is the right path forward, and I’m the first to confidently stick my hand in the air. Lucky for me and my dignity, the men raise their hands, one by one. Soon enough, all twenty of the men they call Acutes are raising their hands. I knew they agreed with me, the poor fellas were just scared. Everyones dead silent and even old Ratched is stunned. Then that goddamn woman informs me that there are forty patients in the ward and I need the majority to make a change. At that point I was done with the niceties. I stood up and just about yelled in that woman’s face. I told her off about how ridiculous it is to require those old birds to vote, to change anything around her. Then she and the doctor went on about the constitution of the place. It was such bullshit and I just about lost it. Then the damn woman tells the doctor to write it down like I’m some case study. Before they can stop me I go over and do everything I can to convince those chronic men to flap their wing just a little bit. I go from one to the next begging them. First Ruckly, then Ellis, Pete, Gabriel, and George. I only manage to get a blank stare or a mumble of gibberish in response. Finally I get to Chief Bromden. The man can’t hear or talk so I have little hope at this point. The Big Nurse announces that the meeting is adjourned, but miraculously The Chief raises his hand. I jump up and down whooping, and give him a good hard pat on the back. I cheer and announce to the group that we’ve reached majority. The Acutes gather around me in celebration, and the Nurse walks away with a fake smile across her face.

Later in the day, we see her behind the glass with the same strange smile. I don’t pay her much attention as I scour the baseboard. I check the clock and see that it’s about game time, so I leave my rags on the ground. I walk by Old Ratchet and who’s red faced and glaring at me. I give that woman my best grin and a wink for her troubles. This only makes her angrier though, but I know she likes me. I go get my favorite armchair and I bring it over to the TV. All the other guys glance at me but they’re too chicken to stop working. I turn the tv on, put my feet up, and light up. The only thing that would make me happier is an ice cold beer. I see the nurse staring at me. I knew she couldn’t resist me. Then she turns off the damn tv, so I lean way back, and take another puff. I always win.

Authors Note:

I wrote this scene from the perspective of Mcmurphy. I decided to write in a lot of short snappy sentences with casual and not very descriptive narration. He speaks in a colloquial way in comparison to the way Bromden narrates and Nurse Ratched speaks. He also curses a lot and is often exasperated which I express through his narration. He’s also very manipulative so I made it clear through his thoughts that he’s strategizing how to get everyone to cooperate with what he wants. He objectifies and flirts with Nurse Ratched a lot so I also included that in his thoughts.

On Friday we sit down for another community meeting forced upon us by Nurse Ratched. I look around at the other men slumped over, and muttering to themselves. These poor useless men guarantee that I’m the only one in here in the right mind. Nah I’m really the craziest of them all and old Ratched knows it. I remember that I’m gonna need them all today, so I put on my very best behavior. I raise my hand and politely request if we could reassess the topic of TV time. Then the goddamn woman informs me that this is therapy and my grievance is too petty to discuss. I don’t take that type of disrespect so naturally I keep speaking my ideas. Then the woman interrupted me again and the next thing she said just drove me mad. She suggests that I’m imposing my personal desires on the other gentlemen in the ward, which I’m sure as hell not. Then she has the audacity to suggest the others would be happier with me gone. I keep it interesting around here, and she knows it. One of the guys speaks up though, and tells old Ratched to give me a chance. They bicker for a while and finally she lets me propose my ideas to the group. I tell them I want a revote on TV in the afternoon and the nurse tells me again that there’s more important things to do, but she eventually gives in. I made a quick joke, and consequently she suggests my removal from this ward again. Clearly this woman, if you can even call her a woman, is invincible to my charm.

I decided that a show of hands is the right path forward, and I’m the first to confidently stick my hand in the air. Lucky for me and my dignity, the men raise their hands, one by one. Soon enough, all twenty of the men they call Acutes are raising their hands. I knew they agreed with me, the poor fellas were just scared. Everyones dead silent and even old Ratched is stunned. Then that goddamn woman informs me that there are forty patients in the ward and I need the majority to make a change. At that point I was done with the niceties. I stood up and just about yelled in that woman’s face. I told her off about how ridiculous it is to require those old birds to vote, to change anything around her. Then she and the doctor went on about the constitution of the place. It was such bullshit and I just about lost it. Then the damn woman tells the doctor to write it down like I’m some case study. Before they can stop me I go over and do everything I can to convince those chronic men to flap their wing just a little bit. I go from one to the next begging them. First Ruckly, then Ellis, Pete, Gabriel, and George. I only manage to get a blank stare or a mumble of gibberish in response. Finally I get to Chief Bromden. The man can’t hear or talk so I have little hope at this point. The Big Nurse announces that the meeting is adjourned, but miraculously The Chief raises his hand. I jump up and down whooping, and give him a good hard pat on the back. I cheer and announce to the group that we’ve reached majority. The Acutes gather around me in celebration, and the Nurse walks away with a fake smile across her face.

Later in the day, we see her behind the glass with the same strange smile. I don’t pay her much attention as I scour the baseboard. I check the clock and see that it’s about game time, so I leave my rags on the ground. I walk by Old Ratchet and who’s red faced and glaring at me. I give that woman my best grin and a wink for her troubles. This only makes her angrier though, but I know she likes me. I go get my favorite armchair and I bring it over to the TV. All the other guys glance at me but they’re too chicken to stop working. I turn the tv on, put my feet up, and light up. The only thing that would make me happier is an ice cold beer. I see the nurse staring at me. I knew she couldn’t resist me. Then she turns off the damn tv, so I lean way back, and take another puff. I always win.

Authors Note:

I wrote this scene from the perspective of Mcmurphy. I decided to write in a lot of short snappy sentences with casual and not very descriptive narration. He speaks in a colloquial way in comparison to the way Bromden narrates and Nurse Ratched speaks. He also curses a lot and is often exasperated which I express through his narration. He’s also very manipulative so I made it clear through his thoughts that he’s strategizing how to get everyone to cooperate with what he wants. He objectifies and flirts with Nurse Ratched a lot so I also included that in his thoughts.

Authority is “the power or right to give orders, make decisions, and enforce obedience.” I’ve experienced many forms of authority throughout my life, from many different people, that all fall under the umbrella of being adults. As children, we are told that adults should be met with respect and have the right to exercise their authority over us when the situation calls for it. My experience with authority has been very mixed throughout my seventeen years of living, I usually fall into line when met with most forms of authority. The book, One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest, has various alternate perspectives on how to adapt to authority.

Throughout the book Nurse Ratched serves as the leading authority over the ward, seeming to have connections to the supervisor, a sense of control over everyone, and the power to do as she pleases. The two characters that embody the responses to authority are McMurphy and Harding, who often conflict with each other due to having different views. McMurphy is against leading authority while Harding fully accepts and supports it, both disgusting their viewpoints on her authority in long detail. On page 54 Harding states, “Our dear Miss Rached? Our sweet, smiling, tender angel of mercy, Mother Ratched, a ball cutter? Why, My friend, that’s most unlikely.” To me, this sounds like what I remember from my mother being like a parental authority that made me feel safe. That safety she gave off was why following her authority was easy because I knew that following someone I trusted wouldn’t hurt me or have any consequences. The quote is also interesting to me because I know that others don’t feel the same way about her. Submitting due to fear of her, which also connects me back to my parents. How it wasn’t a fear of them but a fear of what could happen to me, fear of being punished, a fear of negative consequences.

McMurphy has played a very significant role since his introduction, almost always being the cause of something interesting happening in the ward. At first, he seemed rather carefree and joyful about being in the ward, disrupting the hierarchy of control. Although he changed once he learned that the nurse could extend his time even further he started behaving. On page 164, he confronts Harding and others by asking, “It’s interesting to me that you bums didn’t tell me what a risk I was running into…” This reminds me of the education system, how there’s always something a teacher can say or do to enforce their authority. An example of this would be when a parent is called, or detention is threatened. I’ve never been a fan of consequences, more so any punishment that takes things away from me. The act of something being taken from you that you have no power to get back is why authority through fear is so powerful. I’ve gotten many things taken from me growing up and they’ve all been things I could get back, items that give me joy. When I look at McMurphy’s situation he could point to his sentence which is time he can never get back, therefore his incentive to behave would be much greater.

Respecting authority has alway been a choice, everyone makes it every day when we decide to obey the law. In the Ward the characters have very limited options which causes them to often go the easy way out, as Harding chooses to do, obey the authority and keep it moving. I’ve never truly thought to defy authority because I have no reason too, but through looking at the resident ward members I understand why defiance would strike out in some, mostly McMurphy. On page 176, McMurphy snaps and breaks the window with his bare fist, blood trickling down his hand while he speaks with Nurse Ratched. This symbolizes that everyone has a breaking point when it comes to authority. I remember getting in trouble with my father and giving all my energy worrying about what he’ll do or what he’ll take away, all of a sudden I don’t care anymore. It gets to the point where they’ve taken so much from you that there’s no real fear of consequence anymore because you have nothing left. I fear that eventually due how cornered every patient is at the ward it’ll eventually cause anarchy anarchy among the ward.

One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest, Has opened my eyes to a new view on authority, I’ve been fortunate enough to have a kind nurturing authority growing up, one that I felt comfortable submitting too. This book made me question how far is too far? When is it alright to defy authority? And, What is the appropriate way to combat toxic authority? I would never anything as extreme as in the book but I know one day authority and I will bud heads, and that makes me worried about the consequences.

Throughout Ken Kesey’s book “One Flew Over The Cuckoo’s Nest,” Chief Bromden is an unreliable but insightful narrator. His detailed descriptions of life inside the mental institution often show a slight drift on the lines between delusion and reality, compelling readers to examine their perceptions and memories. One moment I found particularly interesting was when Bromden describes the “Combine,” which reveals a metaphorical interpretation of societal control that he perceives as a machine designed to suppress individuality. This concept reflects Bromden’s struggles and invites readers to reflect on our minds and how societal expectations shape our identities. Bromden’s portrayal of the “Combine” as a mechanical resource resonates with me as a reader. He describes it as an oppressive entity that manipulates individuals while also stripping them of their autonomy. This imagery is an insightful reminder of how societal norms can constrain our identities. Throughout my own life, I often find myself trying to conform to certain standards, whether it’s through my academics or social interactions. For example, the expectation to achieve high grades can sometimes make me feel like just another tool, rather than an individual with unique interests and talents. Bromden’s experiences help to highlight the struggle between individuality and conformity, allowing me to question how much of my own identity is shaped by external pressures. One of the lower moments in Bromden’s narrative is when he reflects on his childhood memories, particularly the loss of his mother and the impact of his Native American heritage. He describes these memories with a sense of distortion and pain like no other, illustrating how the past can come back to haunt us and influence our present. Bromden recalls how his mother’s struggles with her identity affected him deeply, causing him to feel disconnected from his roots. This reflection was crucial for me because it resonates with some of my own experiences grappling with family expectations and cultural identity. Often I find myself torn between following my family’s traditions and creating my own path.

Bromden’s struggle with his memories encourages me to confront how I let my past influence my present choices and perceptions. More to that, Bromden’s narration highlights the theme of delusion and its role in coping with reality as he often retreats into a world where he feels invisible and safe from the oppressive environment that the ward imposes on him. The desire to escape speaks to a universal experience that many humans face in the world, needing to find refuge from overwhelming emotions or situations. I have experienced similar moments of escapism, more specifically through daydreaming or submerging myself in books and movies. I use these tools as a way to provide temporary relief, but they also raise questions about the importance of being willing to face reality. Bromden’s journey challenges me as the reader to reflect upon the balance between engagement and escapism. How do I navigate my desires to escape while also confronting life challenges? His perspective as a patient in a mental institution allows readers to see his world through a lens that is often treated as if it’s insignificant. His unique viewpoint forces us as readers to consider the ways mental illness is frequently misunderstood and often stigmatized to where it isn’t represented correctly. This aspect of his narrative allows me to develop a better understanding of mental health as I’ve come to realize the ways society views mental illness and how that can distort our perceptions of those who struggle with it. Bromden’s voice serves as a reminder to approach these sensitive topics with empathy and understanding rather than judgment. This insight encourages me to be more compassionate towards others and recognize the complexity of their experiences. Bromden’s has a complex relationship with memory and can sometimes have man features. He often revisits the traumatic events from his past, shaping his view of the present. For example, his memories of being treated as less than a human in the institution reflect his fear of losing parts of his identity. His connection between memory and perception challenges me to consider how my memories influence my current mindset. I often notice that particular memories, especially those tied to failure or disappointment can cloud my judgment and affect my self-esteem. Bromden’s struggle with recollection prompts me to confront how I allow my past experiences to make the choices for me in my current place, urging me to have a more balanced understanding of my experiences.

“ The clock hands hang at two minutes to three and she’s liable to let them hang there until we rust…. The old Chronic next to me has been dead six days, and he’s rotting to the chair.” - (68-69) My Nana believes she sees visions—a calling of some sort from God, her ancestors, or a higher being—it doesn’t matter. There are patterns in her visions. They manifest themselves through dreams, the deceased she once knew speaking softly to her in deliberate, painted imagery—a pricked finger with a small needle, a child in bed with a fever, a burning house in the pouring rain. Nana was taking care of me when I was little and both my parents were away on family business. She went to sleep in the guest bedroom exhausted from a long day of babysitting but her sleep was cut short, a message overlapping horrid imagery of smokey hallways and an uncontrollable inferno. “Would you really let my great-grandbaby die so soon?” Nana recalled hearing. She swiftly snatched me from my cradle and sprinted out of the house calling the fire department. She called them without any real piece of information to justify them coming out but reluctantly they did and searched the house. They found a gas leak that was coming from the gas stove in the kitchen that filled the entire house. This only solidified to Nana that she and I had just narrowly escaped death.
I used to believe that these visions were just another thing that grandparents talk about to trick their grandchildren into doing or believing something– I know for a fact that when I reach that age, I’ll be making up all sorts of stories for my grandchildren– however, when you’re young sometimes it’s hard to feel empathy or know what it’s like trying to understand others. This is why kids are usually taught empathy early on in their lives to make sure that they don’t become selfish or closed off to the rest of the world. There is a philosophical idea people develop instinctually which could be reinforced later in a person’s life leading to not just apathetic behavior but behavior that other people deem as “psychotic” or “crazy”. “Solipsism” is the philosophical concept that states “the only real mind that exists is your own.” Everything someone sees, hears, and feels in life is all in your head. A lot of times it boils down to the core value of distrust and questioning. I can never truly prove that my Nana has these visions, the only thing that I can say is that I don’t have those visions meaning that in my mind they mustn’t exist. This is what I fear will escalate into a smooth ease into isolation and distrust. It’s something that I fear for most people. My Nana had visions like these come true often enough to question what I thought was real. However, the doubt can never be expelled from the back of my mind that Nana is living in her crazy fantasy world where things like prophetical visions could be true. The term “crazy” in and of itself is rooted in Solipsism. This label comes from the lack of understanding of another person simply because of the difference in how they perceive the world. I’m guilty of this as well, treating others in a more distant way because of the psychological differences between them and me. Our worlds are of different colors, shapes, imagery, and memory. It’s wrong to deny this reality because it’s present in everyone’s subconscious. Is Nana crazy for having these visions? Or am I crazy for denying the existence of visions in the first place? Is it crazy or weird for Bromden to perceive Nurse Ratched as someone who can slow down or speed up time? For him, that’s just the reality that he lives in. It’s something that McMurphy, Harding, or Billy Bibbet wouldn’t understand, they aren’t Bromden. It’s an underlying issue that Bromden acknowledges when talking about the Combine. Every patient in the psych ward is there because they are deemed as “crazy”, or “damaged machinery” in the words of Bromden. Whether I support or denounce the factuality of Nana’s visions doesn’t matter, life will continue on. Whether the Combine thinks patients in the psych ward like Bromden or McMurphy are crazy or not they will continue to live on in their heads with their own perspectives, just like how I live in my own understanding of Nana’s visions.

(Prompt 4 - pg. 45-49)

I’m tired.

Tired of living. Tired of insults. Tired of bein’ dead.

Born dead. I was born dead.

But I still hang around. Like a ghost, or some kinda cloth they forgot to took off the hanging line, after the wind an’ rain torn it to pieces.

Tired doesn’t cut it. I’m… f’there was a word for it, I’d say it. So much more than tired. ’S in my bones, my head, eyes… every part of me. Like they put a old ball-chain on all my cells.

Fifty-five years. The same every day.

Holes in my head. Like a train track got too hot an’ grew into itself so much it broke.

They keep dragging me out, put me on the railroad. Then they drag me out to some other room, people I can hardly remember, all yelling and screaming about terrible things. Every day a big insult. They go walking around, got it so damn easy, don’t even know how hard it is to stand up.

Wanna say so much, but I only get out one word: tired. I tell ‘em every day but they just have people pat me till I stop.

Don’t wanna take it anymore, but can’t even step a foot out the line. Can hardly think enough to talk, but I’ been trying to remind ‘em, let the staff know. They never listen. Said it so many times but they don’t care.

It’s so loud. Can’t hear anything. More tired now, tired of everything. Maybe if I talk loud, they’ll listen. Maybe not. But I have to say something.

I’m tired, I tell ‘em loud. My head starts shaking, moving sideways..

Then it all stops. Their heads turn on me, train lights on my face. Or was it always like that? Hard to remember.

Then I realize I’m standing, no more chair cushion to empty me out.

I think I should feel strong. I think I should be brave. But I still feel dead.

Actually, a lotta deadness, but I look again and… something new. Feels hot and bright, like the lights on the ceiling.

Big lady turns around, looks at me. Can’t tell if her face is good or bad, looks like she’s fighting something. She says something, and more people go on top of me. Hands on my shoulders. Every hand keeps me here, on my feet and in my shaking head. I say it again: tired. Tired.

FIfty-five years. Feels different, for once.

I keep pushing till a guy walks over pulling me on the arm. He says I gotta go back to the room.

It hurts. Arm shakes. Not my control but it gets his fingers down. Good. I’m tired. Don’t wanna move. Don’t wanna go back.

Tired, I tell him again. Don’t like his hand on me.

He pulls harder, talks again. The lights in me get brighter, the world gets brighter. My eyes go big, bigger than they ever did.

Everyone watching.

Feels like I was getting bigger, like I was less dead. Then I feel it, really feel it.

I hate him. I hate big lady. I hate being tired. They got it so easy. They’re all alive. I’m dead, always been dead. Takes everything I got to stay stood up. Not fair. I feel mad, but I feel… real.

My hand’s moving, going up like a birdy, like a bug in the air. Keeps going, through the sky and up and up, to the clouds and the blue.

I was gonna keep going but I hit his face.

The guy’s arm got off me and he hit the wall.

Big lady sends two more but I got my hands ready, feels like they’re gonna start flying up again any time. So mad I could burn ‘em up with my eyes if I wanted.

Then I start thinking. My brain starts to move. I can see clearly. Gotta make them see, what it’s like. What I gotta deal with, every day. Not fair, it’s all crazy, like…

You see, I say. It’s a lotta baloney.

Baloney, that’s it.

Big lady is saying something, telling me to calm down. I remember her name. Ratched.

The lights start flickering, going dark and turning on me again. Don’t have much time, gonna lose it all…

That’s all it is, nothin’ but a lotta baloney, I tell ‘em. I can’t help it, I say. I was born dead.

They look up at me. They don’t get it. I look at ‘em, lights going down. I lost it, can’t say anything. Tears on my face, but I gotta try.

Can’t help it, I say. Born a miscarriage, so many insults I died. Life was hard, I’m tired out talking and standing up. It’s no point.

Then it’s on me. Legs, arms, needle grabbing me, dragging me back. Try to hold on to the lights. First time I’ve felt something other than dead.

I’m dying.

The floor in front of my face, my head swinging again, my eyes on fire, but I’m cold.

I say it one more time. Tired, awful tired. They don’t get it.

Someone goes up to me, then…

Then…

Gone.

I’m gone.

I let go, let ‘em sit me back down.

No point anymore. None of them got it. Gave everything I had for nothing.

I’m dead.

They killed me, the insults the tongs the ward.

I died fifty-five years ago.

Stylistic Explanation

My story was written from the perspective of old Pete who, during a moment of clarity, stood up and fought the nurse’s aides, speaking to everyone before collapsing down again, a return to being “dead.” I felt that the character and his sections stood out from the plot with McMurphy and Bromden due to the emotions that flew out of his unassuming exterior. THe majority of the narration is an extension of Pete’s own words from his rant, paired with Bromden’s descriptions. For example, Bromden mentions that Pete, due to malpractice during his birth, is “simple to where it took all his straining effort and concentration and will power just to do the tasks that came easy to a kid of six” (46). Due to this, I chose to limit the vocabulary from his perspective, using contractions and incorrect grammar to make him appear to have a younger mind. I also used Pete’s work with the railroad as a basis for some of his analogies and descriptions. Finally, the story is broken up into many small paragraphs because of his mental limitations—I didn’t feel he would have the capacity to easily go on detailed tangents in his mind—and because I felt that they more clearly articulated the ideas he wanted to convey with his speech.

While reading One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s it made me question The role of the individual within a position of power and one that is the opposite is a theme heavily expressed throughout the course of the book with the constant defiance from McMurphy and the pressuring authority of the Big Nurse. Reading these different scenes within the text it brought up the question of how much power does authority really have and what can one without it do against it? My own personal connection to this has always been that authority has its reasons and job for existing the same as any other person though it’s what a person in that position does with it that makes it so special.
One scene that I thought encapsulated this idea of the use of power is how the Big Nurse manipulates the clock within the ward. “The Big Nurse is able to set the clock wall at whatever speed she wants by just turning one of those dials in the steel door.” (68) I had always thought that within the ward the Big Nurse was simply doing her job and as one of the few women there she had to be a bit more aggressive and demanding for the patients to listen. This scene though changed that fact as what reason would she have to be changing the clock like this other than to manipulate and control the patients within the ward. Broomden even says that she eases off the throttle when the patients can’t handle it. This I think really made me realize that people within positions of authority, even ones that are to support and protect people don’t always have the best intentions.
McMurphy is the perfect antithesis to the character of the Big Nurse as he is the rebellion to her authority. He’s the kind of character that really shows that even with authority constantly fighting for control there will always be someone that tries to fight against it. One scene that shows this well is when the patients are talking about putting the TV up and watching the World Series. “Who the hell says so Jesus I haven’t missed a world series in years. Even when I was in the cooler one September they let us bring in a TV and watch the series; they’d had a riot on their hands if they hadn’t.” (107) McMurphy is one of those characters that knows what they want and will fight until he has it. His constant defiance is interesting and I think shows how authority figures are viewed by those without that same amount of power. With McMurphy being one of those people who will fight tooth and nail against them as they believe something is wrong with how that figure is leading the people.
Then with two extremes there is always the one in the middle, Chief Bromden. I believe that he represents the bystanders or middle ground within the world of authority. He’s almost like the eyes that sit and watch, never trying to involve themselves other than just to watch, hence why he pretends to be deaf and mute. One scene that I think is able to explain the bystander effect and how authority puts fear into people is when Bromden is wondering what might happen if the nurses find out that he can hear. “The staff always let me clean the room because they didn’t think I could hear but now that they saw me lift my hand when McMurphy told me to, won’t they know I can hear?”( 129) With this scene I thought of how we see the bystander effect today as well as the consequences that come with it. In many cases you see people not say anything or not speak out because of the presence of other people. I think Bromden saying at the end “won’t they know I can hear?” really shows how authority can put a fear into someone or at least make them second guess about speaking out or doing something that might defy that authority.
Throughout this story and as I continue reading it seems like this story will continue these themes of the fight against authority and how each character deals with them. It really made me relook at how each side will deal with or around a situation. Specifically in this story the Big Nurse is controlling her patients, then McMurphy rebelling against this authority and rid the Big Nurse of her control, then Bromden who really has no affiliation with either party is just simply a bystander trying to get by. I think that this fully resembles the complexities of real life and how authority works in our world. As even within the Psyche ward there is no right or wrong, good or bad, just different views on how authority should work.

For this Lit Log, I created a visual representation for pages 130-132 of One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest. During this section, Chief Bromden enters the ward’s staff room to begin cleaning while the staff prepares for their meeting.

The scene starts with Bromden on his way to the staff room, water bucket and sponge in hand. The Big Nurse suddenly zooms past him to wait beyond the door. Out in the hallway, he notices “how clear it is–no fog any place [p.130].” As often as Bromden’s fog reoccurs, there was no reason to include it in this particular visual.

Bromden walks up to the staff room door and looks through the peephole, which is why I decided to use a fisheye perspective for this visual and is part of where I got the artwork title from. Although there’s no peephole present when Bromden actually starts to clean the room, I figured the unique perspective would be a neat call back to what happened right beforehand.

For the colors used, the staff room is described as having a “green seepage,” and that “it’ll be all over the walls and windows by the time the meeting is halfway through [p.130].” On top of the green background, I also gave the drawing a dingy look with subtle stain textures. Bromden himself is inverted from the green color, which was mainly just so he could stand out but also because of his uniqueness in this situation. The room is filled with staff members, and Bromden is the only patient there.

That brings us to the Big Nurse, Nurse Ratched, who is staring at Bromden skeptically for raising his hand with McMurphy earlier and indirectly suggesting that he isn’t actually deaf. This is also a part of where I got the artwork title from. During his wall scrubbing, Bromden tells us that he can “still feel [Nurse Ratched] standing at the door and drilling into [his] skull till in a minute she’s going to break through, till [he’s] just about to give up and yell and tell them everything if she don’t take those eyes off [him] [p.131].” To communicate this, I decided to have the nurse’s eyes glow sharply while giving Bromden a nervous facial expression in front of her.

After a few moments of watching Bromden clean, the nurse “realizes that she’s being stared at too–by all the rest of the staff [p.132].” Some of them sit in the background with their coffee and cigarettes, impatiently waiting to get the meeting rolling.

A miscellaneous detail regarding the visual is that Bromden lifts his sponge “up above [his] head so everybody in the room can see how it’s covered with green slime and how hard [he’s] working [p.132].” There was also a film of this book (that I forgot about over the years), so I based Bromden’s and Big Nurse’s designs loosely on those of the actors.

Some things that I would have liked to include in this visual are the patients who “materialized in the flesh [p.131],” as well as the strained table legs and knotted chairs that Bromden describes, but because they don’t necessarily happen in this particular staff meeting, I decided to include different things instead.

In conclusion, the nurse’s stare and Bromden’s discomfort of being singled out are the two things that are portrayed most in this scene. This is significant because we later witness Bromden actually use his voice with McMurphy, proving that he was never deaf. It makes the nurse’s skepticism all the more meaningful, considering we now have other people that can spoil Bromden’s secret.

In One Flew Over The Cuckoo’s Nest, Ken Kesey’s main character, Chief Bromden, exists as a mostly-mute mental patient in a psych ward. As readers, we don’t really know if what Chief Bromden is saying is the truth or not. Bromden also keeps at us a distance, and Kesey reveals information about Bromden’s past slowly. Chief Bromden is a deeply guarded character. I think that Kesey wrote him this way so we could learn more about the psych ward through the lens of someone who doesn’t share that much about himself. This is important because too much personal information about Bromden too soon might taint our opinion of him and of the environment he exists in.

Chief Bromden lies to himself repeatedly. One instance of him doing this was when R. P. McMurphy was trying to get other patients in the psych ward to raise their hands to vote for their TV time to match up with when the World Series was happening. Chief Bromden raises his hand, but before, he tells the readers all the way that McMurphy has programmed him to raise his hand. Chief reasons, “McMurphy did something to [my arm] that first day, put some kind of hex on it with his hand so it won’t act like I order it” (pg. 123). Chief continues, referencing two large motifs in One Flew Over The Cuckoo’s Nest, wires and fog, “McMurphy’s got hidden wires hooked to it, lifting it slow just to get me out of the fog and into the open where I’m fair game” (123). Finally, Chief Bromden gives in to the honest truth, “That’s not the truth. I lifted [my arm] myself” (123). In this scene, we see Bromden start lying to himself and to us, but then corrects himself and tells the reader what actually happened. Lying to yourself is a habit that everyone experiences. I think of lying to myself as both self sabotaging and self protecting.

The times that I’ve lied to myself, I’ve done it semi-knowingly. Recently, my childhood dog died. I knew Angus from the time I was five to the time I was seventeen. He was, for all intents and purposes, my best friend. When he died, I told myself that I would be fine. Hours after he was euthanized, I drove myself to choir rehearsal. The next day, I performed a four-bar solo in a choir concert. The only reason I was able to do this was because I lied to myself. I told myself that he was only a dog, that he hadn’t been himself for a while, that I could just get a new dog. I told myself this so I could function. It was a measure of pure self preservation.

Another lie I tell myself is to soothe my driving anxiety. I have to drive upwards of two times a week, and every time I get in the driver’s side of the car, I have to tell myself that car accidents happen when drivers are drunk or distracted. If I promise myself that I won’t be intoxicated or on my phone, then I will never hurt myself or anyone else on the road. While this statistic has some truth to it, it’s nowhere near a complete analysis of causes for car accidents. I tell myself this so I am able to drive anywhere, but it might actually do more harm than good. Telling myself this could give me a sense of false confidence. Lying to myself can be both good and bad for myself.

When reading One Flew Over The Cuckoo’s Nest and reflecting on Chief Bromden’s journey of self-deception and the illusions created by his mind and the environment he’s in, I recognize the parallel struggles in my own brain. Just like Chief Bromden, I struggle with denial when it comes to coping with grief and things that scare me. His moments of clarity—where he confronts the truth of his actions and experiences—serve as a reminder of the importance of self awareness. Reading One Flew Over The Cuckoo’s Nest has made me realize that I lie to myself a lot more than I think I do, and that my self deception isn’t purely positive or negative. While I can recognize that lying to myself isn’t a terrible act, I still think that the most important step I can take is understanding when I’m doing it, and being responsible for my actions.

In One Flew Over The Cuckoo’s Nest, the Nurse Ratched (Big Nurse) holds the highest level of authority and has jurisdiction over everything in the ward. The chronics and acutes are expected to follow the rules of the ward regardless of whether they want to or not. One acute in particular, McMurphy, makes his best effort to change some of these rules to benefit the acutes, chonics, and himself. Although his requests are reasonable, they’re often shut down by the Big Nurse because they inherently violate ward policy, intended to keep the patient’s best interest in mind. It can be easy to see the Big Nurse as a villain because it might seem like she intentionally trying to make life in the ward less enjoyable for patients. However, it’s important to remind ourselves that the Big Nurse is committed to her job, and being a strict enforcer of ward policy is a by-product of that. Ken Kesey’s novel has encouraged me to put myself in the shoes of authority figures and not instantly view them in a negative light. The Big Nurse may seem like a villainous character, but in reality, she’s just an employee of the ward doing her job. On the contrary, I sometimes get frustrated at my parents who may seem like they are being harsh on me and want to restrict my freedom, but in reality, have my best interest at heart and only want what’s good for me.  In middle school, arguments with my parents became frequent as I wanted to become more independent. I remember getting angry at my parents whenever they’d say I couldn’t hang out with friends or had to come home at an earlier time. One Friday, my middle school buddies and I decided to hang out at one of our houses. We initially planned to just hang out for a couple hours, but as time passed we all thought it would be smart to ask if we could hang out for a bit longer. One by one each of us asked our parents if we could stay a few more hours. I called my mom and asked for a sleepover but was met with a stern, no. Frustrated, I pleaded with my mom telling her that I’d only stay a few more hours. She responded by telling me that our car was in the shop so I would need to get home via public transportation, which she refused because the neighborhood my friends and I were in wasn’t very safe. Caught in my emotions, I wasn’t able to understand why she said no and immediately got sour. However, when I put myself in my mom’s shoes I can see that there’s no good reason to be frustrated at my mom because all she wanted was for her son to be safe.   Similarly, the Big Nurse holds jurisdiction over McMurphy who often challenges her judgment. On page 125, McMurphy turns on the TV in the ward to watch the World Series game. Knowing that this violates the ward schedule he continues to watch TV along with other acutes and chronics. Nurse Ratched comes over to the TV and exclaims to McMurphy, “You are supposed to be working during these hours… Mr. McMurphy, I’m warning you!”(125). This line of dialogue from Nurse Ratched sheds a bad light on her because she’s objecting to a leisure pastime for the ward members that isn’t causing any harm. In addition to this, her manner in responding to McMurphy is aggressive, which can further solidify the idea that she has a negative persona. However, knowing that McMurphy should be following the ward schedule instead of watching TV puts him in the wrong. The Big Nurse may seem like the antagonist, but her stern personality is only present to reinforce the ward policy and maintain order. One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest has encouraged me to sympathize more with authority figures by putting myself in their shoes. It’s easy to let emotions get in the way of understanding why you can’t get what you want, no matter how reasonable it may be. In the past, this often caused me to hold onto negative feelings, which did nothing good. But taking a step back to understand the context and reasoning behind why you’re being denied can help you make better decisions and improve relationships with authority figures. Even though it might seem like my mom and Nurse Ratched are being harsh, they only want the best for who they have authority over. 

My artwork shown above is the equal representation of how controlling the “Big Nurse” treats and controls the other patients in the ward. The wires show a depiction of control that the Big Nurse has over the patients in the ward. My artwork shows the Big Nurse using wires to control the patients as puppets. The nurse lifts up her wooden cross (marionette controller) and down the wooden cross is a bunch of wires. The nurse holds it in a menacing way, and has a huge smirk on her face. The Big Nurse from the book is depicted as a cold hearted human. She clearly has more importance of her reputation and the control, and power she has over her patients rather than the actual health of the patients.

The nurse has wires wrapped around her head forming a nurse cap. She stands over the patients as she takes the wires and is a puppeteer. The patients have a sorrowful look on their faces as the nurse wraps the wires around them and controls them as puppets. We, as readers, know that the patients that are in the ward can undergo very harsh and unfair treatments by the nurses, and the people in higher positions in the ward.

We also know that the nurse “Nurse Ratched” or better known as “Big Nurse” has the tendency to control the patients. “I see her sit in the center of this web of wires like a watchful robot, tend her network with mechanical insect skill, know every second which wire runs where and just what current to send up to get the results she wants. (pgs. 25-26) The wires use a figurative expression showing that the nurse controls the patients with wires, using them like a restraint and a sign of being controlled. Almost how a puppeteer controls their puppet with the string and wooden cross.

In my artwork I wanted to depict this as a form of deep meaning and metaphorical art. The strings are wires symbolizing the control and how chained down the patients are in the ward. Just like the quote explained how the nurse was almost like a robot, always knowing what to do and what she wanted to do at any second, but not only that the wires that represented a sense of control towards the patients.

I wanted to incorporate the metaphor of the puppeteer because it can correlate with the actual scene from the story. Not only that, but I also wanted to create a correlation between the nurse and the patients. How the patients feel around the Nurse, and how the nurse feels about the patients. In my artwork the patients are being controlled, and tied up, silenced. Just like in the book, many of the patients see Nurse Ratched as a “Big” and “Scary” nurse. They do not see her as a nurse that is cheerful nor nice to them. I wanted to make sure those who see my art can make a significant connection with the “Big Nurse” and how she treats her patients. I also hope that people can see the metaphor when it comes to the puppeteer and the “Big Nurse” controlling these people in the ward.

For my drawings I wanted to portray the meetings that are mentioned in the book. For my drawing I split the page to show how the meetings changed before and after McMurphy started speaking up. On the before side, Nurse Ratched aka Big Nurse and the doctors are facing the patients. Nurse Ratched is drawn the biggest and the doctor slightly smaller. I drew them bigger because when I read the scene about the meetings I always saw her as the biggest person in the room because she ran the whole thing and voiced her opinions the most. I also did that because in the meetings and overall in the ward they had the most power. Power over how stuff ran and over the patients. In the book, one of the first meetings that we heard of, Nurse Ratched and the doctor did most of the talke. The doctor explains to McMurphy what they are for and Nurse Ratched did everything else. In that meeting none of the patients were speaking up and then Nurse Ractched started talking. The book states, “ That triggered something, some acoustic device in the walls, rigged to turn on at just the sound of those words coming from her mouth. The Acutes stiffened. Their mouths opened in unison. Her sweeping eyes stopped on the first man along the wall,” (pg 45). Then they went on to admit things that they did that were wrong or against the law. The Nurse seemed to scare them and she could get them to do anything she wanted. She had power to control how they acted. However, that did not stay the same throughout the book. On the after side, the patients are drawn bigger than Nurse Ratched and the doctor. I did this to represent the power shift that happens after McMurphy starts speaking up. The patients started doing things they would have never before because it goes against Nurse Ratched and the rules she set up. In the book Mcmurphy is unhappy about being the ward and the rules it has to follow so he starts trying to change it. One of the times he does that is in the meetings. In his second meeting he got the doctor to stand up for his idea of having a game room and then he started talking about random things almost like he was making fun of the meetings. He said, “Saaay, Doctor, what I been dyin’ to know is what did this dream I dreamt the other night mean” (pg 99). He took over the whole meeting and they did not talk about what they were supposed to talk about at all. The narrator of the book goes on to say, “One by one the patients are sneaking looks at her to see how she’s taking the way McMurphy is dominating the meeting, and they see the same thing,” (pg 100). Before McMurphy started speaking up, Nurse Ratched could control what was talked about and that was gone. It also did not stop with just McMurphy. In the book it says, “And that afternoon in the meeting when Cheswick said that everybody’d agreed that there should be some kind of showdown on the cigarette situation…” (pg 149). The patients would have never had the courage to stand up before and that is because Nurse Ratched was slowly starting to lose her power. The patients also started going against what Nurse Ratched said when it came to the fishing trip that McMurphy requested. This shows that the power in the ward is slowly changing from Nurse Ractched to the patients and that is what I tried to show in my drawing.

Page 123, when Bromden raises his hand for the baseball game Written from the perspective of McMurphy

Twenty chronics. I just need one of them to get this damn game on.

“Fffffffuck da wife”, says Ruckly, the youngest of the chronics.

Nineteen chronics.

Eighteen chronics.

I keep going. With every non-response I get, I feel Nurse Ratched’s smile get wider and wider. I feel her presence tower over me more and more. I can’t let this happen. I was already humiliated when I proposed this the first time at the last meeting. I have to win that gamble.

Two chronics. No clue what his name is, but he’s so unresponsive I don’t even bother asking him.

And that leaves Chief Broom. Bromden, I think his real name is? Something like that. But he’s deaf, so what’s it worth? It won’t hurt to try at this point, what have I to lose? That damned nurse ain’t letting me off the hook either way after this.

“Chief, you’re our last bet.” The Indian stares blankly into my face. Please, for the love of God, give me some damn miracle Chief.

“The meeting is adjourned, then”, says Miss Ratched. Fuck her. “And I’d like to see the staff down in the staff room in about an hour. So if there is nothing el-”

Everything stops. I saw it out of the corner of my eye. Chief Broom’s hand twitched. The same hand that spends every day sweeping the floor might actually be of some use for me today. He starts to raise it. I don’t know how, but my miracle has come. That hand goes up, and it’s not coming down. It just happened. The World Series is coming to the ward.

I immediately pull the Chief out of his chair and slap him on the back.

“Twenty-one! The Chief’s vote makes it twenty-one! And by God if that ain’t a majority I’ll eat my hat!”. The Acutes and I are whooping, and in the corner of the room, I see the Nurse. That lady’s been oppressing the people of this ward for ages, and we finally got her back. Now I just need her to lose her temper so that I can win that bet.

She’s still smiling. I know that dirty bitch doesn’t want to admit defeat. The Big Nurse walks out of the day room, and that confirms it, we just won the vote.

I look back at the Chief. His eyes meet mine. I want to find his secret out, if the Indian is really deaf or not. What if he’s been faking it this entire time? I could bet a whole pack of cigs the entire room is thinking about that right now.

I was right. The curiosity of an entire room of Acutes has now piqued, and we’re all taking turns trying to talk to Chief Broom. “Can you hear us Chief?” “How’d you know to raise your hand?” I could bet another pack that the Nurse would like to ask the same questions as well.

But the Indian doesn’t respond. That means one of two things. Either he is indeed faking it, like we all suppose, but he’s still trying to play that damned charade of his. Or, he is actually deaf, and by some miracle, some miracle that could win my bet and push the Big Nurse over the top, he raised his hand the moment I looked at him, not knowing what it’d be for. Either way, he gets my utmost respect for it. Whether it is to break a secret just for the sake of us twenty watching the World Series, or his ability to recognize how much we needed his hand raised, he clearly supports me in some way.

Maybe I’ll find a way to pay Chief Broom back. He doesn’t play cards with us, obviously being (or pretending to be) deaf, so it’s not like I can give him a favorable bet. I don’t really know what he likes, what he wants, or who he even is, really. All I know is that he’s the guy who sweeps, and the guy that just made the tie-breaking vote.

Author’s Note:

With this version of the story being from the perspective of McMurphy, I wanted to highlight three specific aspects of his character: his gambling addiction, his hatred for the Big Nurse, and his determination towards his goals. The first is simple, as McMurphy continuously mentions the bet he made with the other ward members, as well as makes other gambling references. Second, I wrote aggressive language as McMurphy describes the Nurse, building off the actions she made in the actual book. Third, the man’s determination was shown at the beginning of this piece, as I write his internal monologue as he desperately tries to get the World Series game on, and his excitement when he succeeds. Lastly, I use more simple and colloquial language, assuming that that would be the type of thoughts going through the head of McMurphy.