Mrs. Brown Character Analysis

Now I’m really confused. I thought we liked El Jefe. His picture hangs in the front entryway with the saying below it: IN THIS HOUSE, TRUJILLO RULES. “But if he’s so bad, why does Mrs. Brown hang his picture in our classroom next to George Washington?”

“We have to do that. Everyone has to do. He’s a dictator.”

I’m not really sure what a dictator does. But this is probably not a good time to ask.

“You know how your parents will sometimes ground your brother or sister? It’s not because they don’t love him or her, now, is it? It’s because they’re concerned and want to make him or her a better person.”

The more I think about it, an embargo sounds an awful lot like the punishment chair at home whenever we misbehave.

“So how has the Dominican Republic misbehaved?” one of the Dominican students wants to know.

But that is a question Mrs. Brown won’t answer.

“I think we’d better have the nurse look at you,” she says, taking my hand.

I don’t resist. I stand and walk with her. As we cross the front of the room, Charlie Price makes a circle motion in the air to Sammy, who grins as if he agrees.

I feel like screaming, I AM NOT CRAZY! But instead, I swallow that scream, and suddenly it’s very quiet inside me.

I guess I finally understand what [Chucha] and Papi meant by wanting me to fly. It was like the metaphors Mrs. Brown was always talking about. To be free inside, like an uncaged bird. Then nothing, not even a dictatorship, can take away your liberty.

Now I’m really confused. I thought we liked El Jefe. His picture hangs in the front entryway with the saying below it: IN THIS HOUSE, TRUJILLO RULES. “But if he’s so bad, why does Mrs. Brown hang his picture in our classroom next to George Washington?”

“We have to do that. Everyone has to do. He’s a dictator.”

I’m not really sure what a dictator does. But this is probably not a good time to ask.

“You know how your parents will sometimes ground your brother or sister? It’s not because they don’t love him or her, now, is it? It’s because they’re concerned and want to make him or her a better person.”

The more I think about it, an embargo sounds an awful lot like the punishment chair at home whenever we misbehave.

“So how has the Dominican Republic misbehaved?” one of the Dominican students wants to know.

But that is a question Mrs. Brown won’t answer.

“I think we’d better have the nurse look at you,” she says, taking my hand.

I don’t resist. I stand and walk with her. As we cross the front of the room, Charlie Price makes a circle motion in the air to Sammy, who grins as if he agrees.

I feel like screaming, I AM NOT CRAZY! But instead, I swallow that scream, and suddenly it’s very quiet inside me.

I guess I finally understand what [Chucha] and Papi meant by wanting me to fly. It was like the metaphors Mrs. Brown was always talking about. To be free inside, like an uncaged bird. Then nothing, not even a dictatorship, can take away your liberty.