{"id":1877,"date":"2023-04-21T00:00:00","date_gmt":"2023-04-21T07:00:00","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/dornsife.usc.edu\/palaver\/?p=1877"},"modified":"2023-06-28T17:56:50","modified_gmt":"2023-06-29T00:56:50","slug":"like-brother-like-son","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/dornsife.usc.edu\/palaver\/spring-2023\/like-brother-like-son\/","title":{"rendered":"Like Brother, Like Son"},"content":{"rendered":"\n\n\n\n\n \n \n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n
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Like Brother, Like Son<\/h1>\n\n\n<\/div>\n \n \n By<\/span>Eli Holloway<\/strong>\n \n April 21, 2023<\/span>\n <\/div>\n<\/div>\n\n\n <\/div><\/div>\n\n \n \n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n
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Seth had been eating breakfast at his kitchen counter when the apartment intercom buzzed, a crackling whine piercing through the stale apartment air. He sighed, abandoning his Fruit Loops and approaching the intercom. The system was as old as the building, which probably predated the dinosaurs, so he could only try to guess who it was based on the tinny voice that garbled through the speakers.<\/p>\n

\u201cUm, I\u2019m looking for Sara Sennhauer?\u201d<\/p>\n

Seth grimaced, pressing his forehead against the wall. What a way to start the morning.<\/p>\n

\u201cWho is this?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cIt\u2019s, um, Matthew. I\u2019m her brother.\u201d<\/p>\n

He paused, stunned. Should he say hello? Should he apologize? Should he pretend he wasn\u2019t here? Unable to decide, Seth instead resigned himself to whatever horrific (or at the very least uncomfortable) fate awaited him, buzzing Matthew in.<\/p>\n

\u201cCome on up.\u201d<\/p>\n

By the time there was a knock at his apartment door, Seth had finished his Fruit Loops and added his dirty bowl to the pile of dishes slowly accumulating in the sink\u2013dinosaurs didn\u2019t have dishwashers, and Seth didn\u2019t have time to wash them by hand. He opened the door to a lanky young man looking down at him. It was silent as they stared at each other, and Seth noticed a pale purple bruise blossoming across Matthew\u2019s left cheek, just under his eye. Then he noticed the overstuffed backpack on his shoulders and the carry-on at his side, and everything clicked.<\/p>\n

\u201cYou grew,\u201d Seth managed, backing up to welcome Matthew in. Last time he\u2019d seen him, he was 4\u20194\u201d and starting braces. Now he towered over Seth, and\u2026he couldn\u2019t see his teeth right now but he could only assume they were ramrod straight.<\/p>\n

\u201cYeah,\u201d Matthew mumbled, still staring at him. Seth could feel him trying to figure it out. He could always tell when someone was trying to figure it out.<\/p>\n

\u201cSo. Long time no see. How the hell\u2019d you find me?\u201d Seth asked, voice lilting, nudging his brother to move on. Matthew seemed to snap out of it, looking away to idly examine the apartment.<\/p>\n

\u201cWhen you\u2026I don\u2019t know if you remember. When you left, you left me a note with your new address. I didn\u2019t\u2013I was hoping it was still correct.\u201d<\/p>\n

Seth felt guilt wrack his chest, a machine excavator carving into his ribs. Nine years ago, he wrote a letter to a little boy. And nine years later, Matthew followed it to him with a bruise on his cheek.<\/p>\n

\u201cI mean. I did try to find you on social media. I\u2019m not, like, ancient. And I figured out that you were here, in New York, but obviously you never posted your actual address anywhere, \u2018cause that\u2019s\u2013uh. Stupid.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cRight.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cAnd I tried to, y\u2019know, DM you. But you didn\u2019t respond.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cOh. Shit, my bad. I\u2019m sorr\u2013\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cNo, it\u2019s not\u2013I just mean\u2013I was kind of in a hurry, it\u2019s not your fault. I sent it like two hours before I got here. I was already on the plane. So. I mean\u2013I\u2019m just saying I didn\u2019t only use the letter, that\u2019s\u2013that would be dumb,\u201d Matthew stammered, avoiding Seth\u2019s eyes.<\/p>\n

\u201cYeah, no, I get it,\u201d Seth offered, reaching out and patting Matthew\u2019s arm awkwardly. \u201cIt\u2019s a good thing I never moved out, huh?\u201d<\/p>\n

Matthew blinked at him, and Seth burned with the misstep. Nine years of distance had really done a number on them, and it was all Seth\u2019s fault.<\/p>\n

\u201cYeah,\u201d Matthew smiled lopsidedly, and Seth glimpsed perfectly straight pearly whites before his eyes were drawn back to the bruised side of Matthew\u2019s face, which could only twitch upwards. Seth cleared his throat.<\/p>\n

\u201cYeah, this was s\u2019posed to be kind of a\u2026in-between place. Just like a, y\u2019know, \u2018until I get back on my feet\u2019 sorta thing. Famous last words, right?\u201d He laughed nervously.<\/p>\n

\u201cI think it\u2019s nice,\u201d Matthew said softly. As if on cue, a gnat flew into Matthew\u2019s face and he batted at it.<\/p>\n

\u201cThanks,\u201d Seth said quietly, watching him. Broad shoulders, angular jaw, long arms and legs. Tall, probably used to looking down, leaning over, bending his knees, ducking under cabinets. The funny thing is that Matthew actually resembled their mother, albeit a little ganglier\u2013Seth looked like a shorter version of their dad. He wondered if they went outside together, if strangers would think they looked like brothers.<\/p>\n

\u201cSo, look, I know this is really, uh, rude of me. I just\u2013I was in a hurry, I didn\u2019t\u2013I kind of just left on impulse. But\u2013I mean, I was hoping I could\u2026stay here. For\u2013I don\u2019t know. Just for some time, I guess. Until\u2013until I\u2013\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cUntil you get back on your feet?\u201d Seth asked. Matthew grimaced.<\/p>\n

\u201cI didn\u2019t want to say it like that,\u201d he mumbled. Seth was suddenly thrown back to when he was eighteen, sleeping on the couch, the third wheel to an understanding lesbian couple while he figured out how to get a job, all of his worldly possessions packed into a duffel bag and his mom\u2019s hand-me-down suitcase. Sarita and Mel have since moved out, but Seth remains, still chugging along. Matthew avoided his eyes.<\/p>\n

\u201cIf that\u2019s not\u2013you don\u2019t want to, or you can\u2019t, I can totally\u2013\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYou don\u2019t have a backup plan.\u201d<\/p>\n

It wasn\u2019t a question. Matthew shook his head.<\/p>\n

\u201cI figured. You, uh, you weren\u2019t supposed to take after me<\/em>, y\u2019know.\u201d<\/p>\n

Seth smiled at Matthew in a way he hoped was comforting. Matthew\u2019s mouth twitched again, but he continued to stare at the floor.<\/p>\n

\u201cDid you leave anything behind?\u201d He asked quietly. Matthew shook his head.<\/p>\n

\u201cNothing I need, I don\u2019t think. I mean\u2013I don\u2019t really remember.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWell, that\u2019s fine. We can figure it out. You\u2019re cool to crash here for a while, but if you\u2019re planning to stay, I\u2019m charging rent,\u201d Seth said matter-of-factly, only half joking.<\/p>\n

\u201cThanks.\u201d<\/p>\n

Matthew looked up, still smiling with only the right side of his face. Seth wanted to hug him, to talk to him and assure him that everything was going to be okay, but he wasn\u2019t sure he\u2019d be able to come up with the right words. So instead, he grabbed a bag of frozen peas from his fridge and held it out. Right now, they just needed to bring down the swelling.<\/p>\n

After Matthew fell asleep on Seth\u2019s couch, a bag of peas resting on his face, Seth took the opportunity to do some cleaning up and mentally rehearse the inevitable Conversation. While washing the dishes, he thought about natural and respectful segues. While scrubbing down the bathroom, he thought about how to fill in their nine-year gap of time. While clearing the coffee table to make room for Matthew\u2019s sparse belongings, he thought about how to bring up the bruise on his face, the person who put it there. Every time, he came up empty, awkward, stilted. There was really no way to say it without somebody getting hurt.<\/p>\n

Matthew woke up about an hour later, the bag of peas falling into his lap as he sat up on the couch. Seth was no closer to a painless solution, but his kitchen counters were getting a nice shine.<\/p>\n

\u201cLong trip?\u201d Seth asked.<\/p>\n

\u201cEarly flight. Only like two hours though,\u201d Matthew yawned, blinking. He reached up to rub his left eye, before thinking better of it.<\/p>\n

\u201cNeed something to eat?\u201d<\/p>\n

Matthew held up the bag of peas. Seth snorted, taking the bag from Matthew and placing it back in the freezer.<\/p>\n

\u201cAbsolutely not, that\u2019s not a meal. Besides, those are my designated Injury Peas.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat\u2019s an injury pea?\u201d Matthew asked, standing and stretching. Seth shrugged.<\/p>\n

\u201cLike literally, I only keep them in the freezer for injuries. I don\u2019t eat them.\u201d<\/p>\n

Matthew narrowed his eyes.<\/p>\n

\u201cBuy an ice pack, dude.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThose aren\u2019t as pliable as Injury Peas. They\u2019re like a solid block. Imagine trying to fit that over your cheek. Pain in the ass, right?\u201d Seth argued. Matthew seemed to consider it, tilting his head. \u201cLook, let\u2019s go out and grab you something. My treat.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYou sure?\u201d Matthew asked.<\/p>\n

\u201cIt\u2019s the least I can do. You can unpack when you get back.\u201d<\/p>\n

He avoided Seth\u2019s eyes again, but nodded. After their treacherous journey down four flights of slightly moldy stairs and through the primitive re-creation of an apartment lobby, Seth and Matthew escaped into the fresh New York City air, in all its tangy, noisy, smoky, chaotic glory. Matthew seemed immediately overwhelmed by the energy, the way it swamped every sense, how everything around them demanded attention. Seth still wasn\u2019t quite used to it, if he was being honest, though he pretended to be a local for Matthew\u2019s sake.<\/p>\n

\u201cC\u2019mon, I know a quiet place nearby.\u201d<\/p>\n

He wondered if he should have offered his hand, but Matthew naturally fell into step next to him. To Seth\u2019s chagrin, Matthew\u2019s longer legs made it so he had to slow down so Seth could lead the way. As they walked, he could feel it again\u2014Matthew was trying to figure him out. A lot had changed in nine years in both directions, but this was a pretty low priority (on Seth\u2019s list, at least).<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat\u2019s\u2014so what, uh, what do I\u2014what’s your pronouns?\u201d Matthew stammered. Seth almost rolled his eyes at the awkwardness, before remembering where Matthew was coming from\u2014literally, bumfuck nowhere out in the Midwest. Any of the etiquette he\u2019d picked up could only have come from the Internet, and even then only from whatever corners he was brave enough to explore knowing his searches were tracked. Seth remembered when he dared to look up the Trevor Project for a high school research paper and was locked out of the school computer and sent to the principal\u2019s office. In short, maybe Matthew deserved a little grace.<\/p>\n

\u201cHe, him.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cOkay. That\u2019s cool. So I\u2019ll\u2026I\u2019ll use those. And your\u2014do you have the same name?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cNo. I go by Seth.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cLike. Rogen?\u201d<\/p>\n

Seth paused, frowning.<\/p>\n

\u201cSorry.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cNo, yeah, you\u2019re right, I just. I like to forget he exists.\u201d<\/p>\n

Matthew laughed. They reached the diner shortly, a greasy hole-in-the-wall place that could barely fit ten people in it, staff included. But nobody was there, save for the ever-cheerful line cook Tabitha. She waved at Seth as they entered, her already bright expression glowing like a swarm of fireflies, or a heavy-duty flashlight. It was impossible to hang out with her when he was hungover.<\/p>\n

\u201cBeen a while! I didn\u2019t get a chance to tell you right after the show but you were great!\u201d She beamed. Seth chuckled.<\/p>\n

\u201cYeah, sorry I haven\u2019t been in. The usual for me, but give this guy a minute to order,\u201d Seth jabbed his thumb at Matthew, who was staring up at the cluttered menu boards dangling on the wall.<\/p>\n

\u201cThey have funnel cakes?\u201d Matthew asked quietly, gaping. Seth nodded. \u201cThey have candy apples?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThey got whatever\u2019s up there, dude.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cBut that\u2019s like. Fair food,\u201d Matthew breathed, seemingly floored by the information that fair food could exist outside of fairs. Seth snorted.<\/p>\n

\u201cIt\u2019s actually not that hard to do funnel cakes and candy apples without the big fair carts! Sure, the kitchen isn\u2019t customized to only make funnel cakes, but they still turn out decent!\u201d Tabitha piped up, watching them. Matthew turned to face Seth, stars of hope in his eyes.<\/p>\n

\u201cLook, man, I\u2019m not in charge of you, get a fuckin\u2019 funnel cake if you want,\u201d Seth laughed. Matthew nodded towards Tabitha, and she gave him a proud thumbs-up.<\/p>\n

\u201cOn it!\u201d She chirped. After a brief pause, Seth realized that while he wasn\u2019t Matthew\u2019s legal ward, he still probably had an obligation as his older brother to keep him somewhat on track, given his sudden lack of parental guidance.<\/p>\n

\u201cHey, Tab. Can you make him some eggs, too?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cFor sure!\u201d Tabitha called from the kitchen. Matthew chuckled nervously.<\/p>\n

\u201cSorry. I got carried away,\u201d he said quietly. Seth shook his head.<\/p>\n

\u201cYou\u2019re good. Just gotta make sure you get some protein or whatever the fuck in you, too. Eat healthy or something.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThanks. That\u2019s real responsible,\u201d Matthew mumbled, and Seth didn\u2019t realize it was meant to be a dig at him until they\u2019d sat down at a small table. He took a deep breath. It was as good a time as any to air out their dirty laundry, all nine years of it.<\/p>\n

\u201c\u2026alright. We gettin\u2019 into it, then?\u201d<\/p>\n

Matthew shook his head, face red.<\/p>\n

\u201cNo, I\u2019m sorry, I didn\u2019t mean\u2014I was just\u2014I wasn\u2019t thinking.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cNo, we probably need to. If we\u2019re going to live together, even for a bit, we should figure all this out,\u201d Seth argued. Matthew grimaced, staring down at the table. He didn\u2019t seem to like looking up much. Must be his height, Seth thought dryly.<\/p>\n

\u201cThere\u2019s nothing to figure out. I\u2019m\u2014I don\u2019t have any right to be angry.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cDoesn\u2019t really matter if you\u2019ve got a right or not. \u2018Cause you are angry, aren\u2019t you?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cOf course I am!\u201d Matthew said sharply, as if offended that Seth even had to ask. He paused, taking a deep breath and calming down. \u201cI mean, when you left, I was nine. I woke up one morning and you were gone. You left me a note and that\u2019s it. You were just gone, forever. That\u2013that\u2019s gonna fuck up a nine-year-old.\u201d<\/p>\n

Seth with long hair in a flowery dress, smiling awkwardly for the Easter brunch photo, his father\u2019s hand on his shoulder. He changed out of it as soon as the photo was taken, his father shaking his head.<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat happened to my beautiful baby girl? You used to love dresses.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cMy legs get cold,\u201d Seth shrugged.<\/p>\n

Seth stuffing all his shit into a bag at one in the morning, leaving the dresses to hang in the closet, breathing hard, tapping at his piggy bank with a hammer in the dark. Scribbling on scratch paper, words bleeding over each other, crowding together, but he made sure the address was clear as day. Leaving it in the hidey-hole that only he and Matthew knew about, the loose tile in the bathroom that, if positioned correctly, looked perfectly in place.<\/p>\n

\u201cAnd of course I understand why you left. I know you couldn\u2019t stay there. And I also know you couldn\u2019t take me with you. I get it. I think, back then, even if you\u2019d asked, I probably wouldn\u2019t have gone.\u201d<\/p>\n

Seth looking up the Trevor Project in sophomore year of high school to \u201cwrite a research paper\u201d for the one teacher that everyone else hated. The one teacher that complimented him when he chopped off all his hair, that dared to argue that human beings held equal value, that believed people were allowed to change. Seth in the principal\u2019s office, avoiding the eyes of the one teacher who gave him a phone number, who told him, quietly, that maybe it would help him with what he was going through. But he\u2019d forgotten the number. He\u2019d needed to look it up again. The teacher told nobody the truth, and was dismissed shortly after.<\/p>\n

Seth hopping on a Greyhound bus, a stranger\u2019s phone number in his contact list, someone he met online in a forum he never should\u2019ve been able to access, but he\u2019d gotten sneakier after the Trevor Project Incident. He called it, panicked whispering, head against the window. A woman\u2019s voice on the end of the line, soothing him. He\u2019d have a place to stay when he got there. She and her girlfriend would meet him at the station.<\/p>\n

\u201cAnd nobody would have predicted it would get\u2026worse. The world was like, making progress, right? And I thought we\u2019d keep up with it.\u201d<\/p>\n

Seth kissing a girl behind the high school track. The rumor spreading like the flu in the fall, vitriol spewing from the lips of his classmates in the hallway, nausea on their faces as he passed. His father pretending he didn\u2019t exist. That was his way of showing mercy\u2014most parents probably would\u2019ve killed their heretical children with their own two hands. Fixing their mistakes. Though mercy probably wasn\u2019t the right word\u2013it\u2019s more like he was just waiting for Seth to die on his own, to sink into shame and self-hatred, to give up.<\/p>\n

He didn\u2019t.<\/p>\n

\u201cSo I stayed. And as I got older, I thought I would be fine with staying. But I also can\u2019t help but feel like I was\u2026left behind. I know that\u2019s unfair, but I was nine when you left, and it hurt<\/em>. My s\u2014my sibling leaving me behind out of nowhere, no intention of coming back, not for me, not for anything. I stayed, alone.\u201d<\/p>\n

Seth in New York, working pizza delivery to eke out a living, biking furiously through the city, writing standup comedy routines in his free time. Seth going to underground gay clubs, drag bars, everywhere Mel and Sarita felt like taking him. Seth drinking too much and then swearing it off and then drinking too much again. Seth at an open mic, utterly mediocre but having a blast. Seth starting T, slowly getting over his fear of needles, Sarita mimicking his newly crunchy voice. Seth trying to forget where he came from because he didn\u2019t want to carry it with him anymore. Seth, alone.<\/p>\n

\u201cAnd I mean, you were the test case, the warning. But after nine years, I\u2026forgot. And I thought\u2014like I said, I thought things had gotten better. Y\u2019know, gay marriage and stuff. But I mean, he never brought you up. He got rid of all your pictures. He made me play soccer, run cross country, took me out hunting. And honestly, I didn\u2019t, like, have a problem with it. Because I didn\u2019t get it\u2013like, why he was doing it. It had been nine years since I\u2019d seen you, and I forgot why<\/em>. Why you left.\u201d<\/p>\n

Matthew paused, reaching up to touch the bruise on his cheek. He snorted derisively, shaking his head.<\/p>\n

\u201cThat\u2019s why I got carried away.\u201d<\/p>\n

Matthew trying out for the basketball team, not making it but deciding to be a manager because the captain begged him and he couldn\u2019t refuse. The captain looking after him more than the other way around\u2013more like looking up at him. Oliver was shorter than he was, but he could jump like there were trampolines attached to his worn-out thrift store tennis shoes. Matthew signing up for Intro to Comp Sci because Oliver said he was taking it next semester, Oliver staying after school to help him with his coding assignments. The dusty library in the winter, spiders skittering along bookshelves, broken heater, Oliver and Matthew squished together, sharing a chair, breath visible in pale streams through the air, saying nothing but understanding everything.<\/p>\n

Matthew in his room on a summer night, recently graduated, listless, Oliver knocking at his window like he\u2019d seen so many times in romantic comedies, dancing lightly on his carpeted floor, his father hearing noise and opening the door, caught red-handed because good boys don\u2019t dance like they do, holding hands, standing close. Oliver escorted out silently, because Matthew\u2019s dad owned a gun but he wasn\u2019t going to use it, not on the star of the East Meridian high school basketball team. Matthew taking a blow to the face so fast he didn\u2019t see it coming, still silent, stumbling but staring down at his father, his father staring up at him, saying nothing but understanding everything. His father had no children. There would be no more photos on the wall.<\/p>\n

Matthew stuffing all his shit into a bag at one in the morning, grabbing the stash of bills he kept hidden under his bookshelf, finding the letter Seth had written to him almost a decade ago stashed in his desk drawer, that he\u2019d kept out of some bitter sentimentality. Matthew pausing, staring at the letter, transfixed by a memory of someone taller than him and kinder than his father. Matthew praying to a god he wasn\u2019t sure he believed in and booking a flight to New York.<\/p>\n

When Matthew spoke, it was dry, matter-of-fact, at most maybe a little frustrated. Like he\u2019d already done all of his grieving on that two-hour flight.<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019m sorry.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cIt\u2019s not your fault. And I know that. I\u2019m just\u2026I wish it hadn\u2019t ended up like this. I wish we<\/em> hadn\u2019t ended up like this.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat are the odds, right?\u201d Seth said quietly. He reached out and held Matthew\u2019s hand on top of the table.<\/p>\n

\u201cI know\u2026I haven\u2019t been there for you. And I regret it. Even if I couldn\u2019t come back, I should\u2019ve kept in touch. I should have tried<\/em>, at least. I didn\u2019t. But I promise, I\u2019m here now. Whatever you need, I\u2019ll be here to help you, and we\u2019ll figure it out together. I won\u2019t leave you alone again. You\u2019re gonna be fine. We\u2019re both gonna be fine.\u201d<\/p>\n

Matthew managed a weak grin. Seth ruffled his hair, the same way he used to nine years ago, though now he had to reach up instead of down.<\/p>\n

\u201cNow let\u2019s get some fuckin\u2019 food in ya, okay?\u201d<\/p>\n

Almost as if on cue, Tabitha scurried out of the kitchen holding their plates. She silently set them down on the table before darting back to the kitchen. Seth narrowed his eyes.<\/p>\n

\u201cTab.\u201d<\/p>\n

She peeked her head out over the counter, saying nothing.<\/p>\n

\u201cHow long have you been waiting with the food?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201c\u2026it seemed like you guys were having an important conversation and I didn\u2019t want to interrupt. Don\u2019t worry, I kept everything on the griddle so it\u2019s still warm!\u201d<\/p>\n

Seth snorted. Matthew looked mortified.<\/p>\n

\u201cI guess that\u2019s my bad for getting into it right after we ordered,\u201d Seth shrugged, watching Matthew silently devour his plate of eggs and funnel cake. It was funny\u2014you couldn\u2019t tell from his demeanor that he was hungry, but the food was rapidly disappearing in front of Seth\u2019s eyes. Thankfully, the rest of the meal went smoothly, just because they were both too busy eating to talk. He knew a confessional conversation and some diner food didn\u2019t even begin to make up for the nine years of absence, of distance, of forgetting. But it was a start, maybe. A restart? A reunion, or a revival of something that had been not-quite-dead, but long asleep.<\/p>\n

Their eyes met briefly, and Seth realized the swelling had gone down.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<\/div>\n\n\n <\/div><\/div>\n\n\n\n\n \n \n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n

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Eli Holloway<\/strong> is a junior majoring in Creative Writing, and is also minoring in 2D Studies and Theater, if that tells you anything about them. When not occupied with writing one thing or another, they can be found scootering through campus with reckless abandon or trying to make themselves sound more interesting in author biographies.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<\/div>\n\n\n <\/div><\/div>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"","protected":false},"author":288,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_acf_changed":false,"footnotes":""},"categories":[48],"tags":[52],"class_list":["post-1877","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-spring-2023","tag-prose"],"acf":[],"yoast_head":"\nLike Brother, Like Son<\/title>\n<meta name=\"robots\" content=\"index, follow, max-snippet:-1, max-image-preview:large, max-video-preview:-1\" \/>\n<link rel=\"canonical\" href=\"https:\/\/dornsife.usc.edu\/palaver\/spring-2023\/like-brother-like-son\/\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:locale\" content=\"en_US\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:type\" content=\"article\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:title\" content=\"Like Brother, Like Son - 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