Brown Girl Dreaming: Part 2 Summary & Analysis

Woodson shows Jacqueline’s early attention to language when she describes the different ways that people refer to her in South Carolina. Jacqueline not only considers how people refer to her in relation to her grandparents, but also the specific sound these names and the speed at which they are said. Jacqueline’s early interest in the sounds of words foreshadows her interest in poetry.

This conversation with Mama makes it clear that Mama’s sense of being at home in South Carolina is waning. Although Jacqueline’s own sense of belonging in South Carolina is tied deeply to the land (she refers again and again to the soil), Mama’s seems more tied to people, and many of Mama’s loved ones have moved North.

In this poem, Woodson links Gunnar’s favorite pastime, gardening, with the history of his family, and, disconcertingly, with the legacy of slavery. She connects his hobby with the fact that his ancestors worked picking cotton, even after slavery had ended. Woodson’s connection between Gunnar’s gardening and the legacy of slavery tempers the positive associations Jacqueline has with dirt. Like the South in general, it is both comfortingly familiar and deeply troubled.

Woodson begins to show the extremely close relationship that Jacqueline has with Gunnar, with whom she shares many personality traits. Gunnar’s singing enraptures Jacqueline, and makes her imagine her aunt listening along. Again, Woodson shows Jacqueline’s attention to sounds and music, and how sounds help to trigger Jacqueline’s imagination.

Again, Woodson shows Jacqueline’s close relationship with Gunnar. Importantly, she does this through language. When Jacqueline and her siblings call Gunnar “daddy,” it suggests a much closer relationship than the average child has to a grandparent. Once again, Jacqueline pays special attention to the depth of feeling that original language can reveal.

Woodson shows how, despite Gunnar’s higher status in his workplace, race still negatively impacts him at his job. His coworkers’ disrespect is revealed through language use— it is the fact that they call him “Gunnar,” not “Mr. Irby,” that shows their racist sentiments, along with the fact that they often don’t listen to his directions. Gunnar’s explanation for this— that the South is changing too fast—shows again that white Southerners’ attitudes towards race are deeply regressive.

Woodson highlights the way that, despite equal job responsibilities in the workplace, social and geographic segregation is rampant in the South. Although they share a workplace, African-Americans and white Americans don’t live in the same places. Jacqueline seems to feel ambivalent about this social segregation— although it is clearly born out of racism, Nicholtown is also a place where she is surrounded by people like her, and where she feels comfortable and welcome.

Jacqueline’s description of Georgiana’s daywork clearly highlights that cleaning for white families is an act of desperation for her grandmother, rather than a choice she happily makes. Although Georgiana says she is not ashamed of the work she must do, her insistence on this fact, and the fact that she dresses so well to go to her job, seems to suggest the opposite— that cleaning up the houses of white families is, in fact, a job that makes her feel lowly. Woodson shows again how race affects the dynamics of work, and how necessity brings Georgiana to take a job that makes her feel racially debased.

Woodson shows the reader how difficult and straining daywork is, and how much daywork pains Georgiana both physically and emotionally. Georgiana’s hope that they will never have to do daywork shows how deeply upsetting she finds the job. Georgiana’s physical discomfort because of her job cleaning for white families shows how racial inequality is a phenomenon that takes a toll, not only emotionally, economically, and socially, but also physically, on the bodies of African-Americans.

Once again, sounds and music fascinate young Jacqueline, and her special attention to them foreshadows her later forays into verse, as poetry is a form of writing that has a particular allegiance to sound and spoken language. The sounds of the South, which she describes as a lullaby, make Jacqueline feel comfortable.

Jacqueline’s fixation on stories and storytelling is clear again in this poem. Rather than simply focusing on sounds and words, though, Woodson shows a slightly older Jacqueline beginning to be excited by more complete forms of storytelling. It is significant that some of Jacqueline’s first excitement over storytelling is linked to religion, as religion becomes an important theme in the memoir. Jacqueline vascillates between embracing and rebelling against religious narratives.

Jacqueline’s descriptions of daily life show how at home she has begun to feel in South Carolina. Odella, meanwhile, begins to become a foil to Jacqueline (meaning her character contrasts emphatically with Jacqueline’s)—Woodson shows Odella reading (a fixation on written language), while Jacqueline becomes more and more fascinated with storytelling (spoken language).

This poem describes Jacqueline’s first attempts at writing. As she learns to write a “j,” the first letter of her name, Jacqueline’s excitement shows her intense desire to express herself through language.

Although Jacqueline feels quite at home in South Carolina, Hope longs for the North, where he spent his early childhood, and for his father. His unhappiness in the South is reflected in his increasingly reserved personality. The family’s pull between the North and South causes Hope pain and discomfort.

Though Jacqueline likes the South, she and her siblings are somewhat isolated from their peers there— in this poem, Jacqueline’s loneliness is palpable. Though Georgiana’s reason for keeping the children apart is ambiguous, it seems to be out of some kind of elitism. The boy with the heart defect asks about the children’s Northern accents, which shows that the children’s language still marks them as outsiders in Greenville.

This poem suggests the complicated relationship between race and language use. Mama insists that her children speak properly, presumably out of a fear that they will be mocked or disrespected by white people if they speak in stereotypically Southern ways. Mama also makes her children promise to never say “ma’am,” because, for her, it represents black subservience. When Mama beats Hope for failing to follow these rules, Woodson shows the intense fear Mama has that her children will be demeaned because of their speech, and how unjust it is that the onus of defying racist stereotypes should be on them.

Woodson again shows the close relationship that Jacqueline has to her grandfather, and her happiness in her life in the South. Later in the memoir, the memory of lemon-chiffon ice cream returns as a reminder of her grandfather’s kindness and the belonging she feels in Greenville.

During their outing to get ice cream, Gunnar’s explanation of the Civil Rights Movement allows the reader to see Jacqueline’s increasing racial awareness. Woodson also shows how racial injustice is embedded into even the most pleasant and unremarkable moments of the children’s lives. It also demonstrates again how the legacy of slavery still affects the present.

As the children witness the sit-ins in Greenville first hand, and Gunnar explains why he supports nonviolent protest, the reader gets a better sense of the tone of and reasoning behind the Civil Rights Movement. Later in the memoir, when Woodson describes the tone of the Black Power movement, the reader can contrast these two senses of social justice. Jacqueline’s reference to the movement as a “war” reflects both the real danger activists in the 60s faced and the importance of the political movement.

Again, Jacqueline, Odella, and Hope’s Northern way of speaking alienates them from their peers and marks their difference from children born in the South. Once again, language keeps Jacqueline from fitting in.

The Civil Rights Movement continues to feature prominently in the children’s lives, as it is frequently discussed and explained by adults. Through Dorothy, Woodson suggests the drawbacks of peaceful protest. Dorothy, who has attended nonviolence training, admits that she would stop being nonviolent in response to certain humiliations. Woodson seems to be implying that the expectation that protestors should endure such degradation and violence without ever reacting is difficult, and perhaps unfair.

This poem serves mostly to forward the plot, as Mama leaves the children with their grandparents to explore the possibility of a life in New York City. It also affirms the sense of belonging Jacqueline has come to feel with her grandparents in South Carolina, as she describes being enveloped in their love as being wrapped in a blanket.

Through the character of Miss Bell, Woodson shows the potential economic repercussions of partaking in the Civil Rights Movement. By protesting, Miss Bell risks losing her job, and Woodson makes clear the bravery and cleverness of Miss Bell’s solution to this predicament when she discusses Miss Bell’s secret meetings at her house.

Jacqueline points out the everyday bigotry that she and her family experience just because of their race.

In this intimate moment, Woodson asserts once again Jacqueline’s love for and deep interest in storytelling, writing, and the possibilities of imagination. As Odella reads aloud, Jacqueline is so overcome by her excitement that she leans in towards her sister, showing how the words attract her. Woodson shows Jacqueline’s rich imagination as she pictures all the events of the story in her mind.

Again, the discussions that Jacqueline recalls from her early childhood are primarily conversations about words and names, reflecting Jacqueline’s interest in language. Gunnar’s parents’ decision to give him a name that “no master could ever take away” reflects the fact that slave owners gave slaves their own last names as a sign of ownership. Through this, Woodson shows naming to be a politically significant act, and self-naming to be an important aspect of self-possession and liberation.

Georgiana’s assertion that the Civil Rights protests are not a new phenomenon reflects Woodson’s interest in portraying African-American history and racial justice not as a series of disconnected events, but as a continual, interconnected stream of history. Georgiana’s belief that everyone dreams of living in a free, equal country connects racial justice with the very foundations of American political thought, showing how the same ideals white Americans valorize are incompatible with a racially segregated society.

Georgiana’s ambiguous metaphor in this section of the poem could be read several different ways. The dog could be a figure for violent protest (think of police dogs in Birmingham turned on Civil Rights protestors), while kittens may represent nonviolent action. The metaphor could also speak to the idea that by asking for big leaps in racial equality, African-Americans will achieve at least some progress (just like asking for a dog leads, at least, to kittens). The ambiguity of the metaphor allows it to carry a variety of possible resonances.

Jacqueline’s description of the fabric store shows the reader what racial equality could look like—uncomplicated everyday experiences. Because of the friendship between Georgiana and the white shop owner, the fabric store is a space where Jacqueline and her family can be “just people,” rather than having their interactions mediated through the lens of race. The observation that the fabric store is a place where they can be “just people” shows also how racist spaces effectively deny the humanity of African-Americans.

Downtown Greenville has been desegregated, but the lettering of “whites only” signs is still visible. This reflects the fact that the legal change has not yet been accompanied by a social one, and the “ghost” of segregation still haunts the town.

Jacqueline observes African-American families migrating North in search of jobs. This foreshadows her own family’s future and supports her father’s assertion (and the sense among the community in Nicholtown) that there are more opportunities for black people in the North than in the South.

This poem serves again to forward the plot, describing Mama’s homecoming and her announcement about their move to New York. The pictures Mama brings offer the children an idealized version of the city. Presumably, these pictures, along with the stories they’ve heard about the economic prosperity there, spark Jacqueline’s imagination of the city.

Mama takes note of the different sensations of the North and the South when she says to Jacqueline that the air seems different. Jacqueline states that she will remember the smells of the Greenville air, showing the reader how, before she even moves, Jacqueline is attempting to gain control of her memory by giving it a narrative. This poem also shows how sensations evoke memory.

Gunnar’s garden marks the change in the seasons as fall arrives and the vegetables are picked. The garden, despite its earlier associations with the history of slavery, is a source of happiness and abundance for the family. This shows the potential of regaining control over fraught aspects of life in order to derive joy from contradictions.

Jacqueline and her siblings, hungry for adult stories and gossip, eavesdrop on their grandmother and her friends. Jacqueline makes use of her highly active imagination and penchant for storytelling, as she often misses parts of the conversation and makes them up later. She mulls the stories over in her head and adds detail, testing her ability to invent and embellish. Through this practice, Jacqueline builds her storytelling skills.

Gunnar’s cough worsens, making Jacqueline anxious. His inability to sing on the way home saddens her, since, with her special love for oral sounds and music, she really loved his voice. Jacqueline refers to the abundance of the garden when she worries that “the earth makes a promise it can never keep.” This suggests that tobacco plants, rather than providing nourishment, are, in fact, very destructive. The presence of tobacco plants—along with the legacy of slavery that they evoke—is another contradiction inherent to the garden.

Gunnar’s coughing disturbs Jacqueline and makes her worry.

As the woodstove symbolizes Jacqueline’s comfort and sense of warmth in the South, she thinks about her weakening connection to the North and her father. When Hope tells her that she is lucky to not remember their parents fighting, he implies that he associates those memories with pain. Memory, for Hope, is a source of hurt rather than comfort. Jacqueline’s lack of memory is a blessing, but her sense that she will remember her mother’s second departure suggests that she will not be exempt from sad memories in the future.

As Mama leaves again for New York, she tells the children they are only “halfway home,” which reflects the larger sense in the book that Jacqueline and her siblings are always caught between the North and the South, and suspended between two different homes.

Woodson, who was not present for the events she describes in this poem, is clearly either inventing them or describing her mother’s memories. Again, Woodson tests the limits of memory and of memoir by using other people’s memories and not just her own.

Jacqueline and her siblings have the sense that their lives are about to change drastically. When the children release the fireflies, Jacqueline imagines that the three of them think that if they let the fireflies go, they will be allowed to stay in Greenville. She effectively imagines a narrative in which she can control and stabilize her life, and it comforts her.

Again, in this poem, the reader sees Jacqueline imagining a narrative that provides her with comfort, one in which Greenville, and her connection to it, don’t change. Jacqueline explores how, by providing herself with narratives that comfort her, she can soothe the sense of displacement she often feels. Jacqueline also increasingly harnesses control of her memory—as her grandmother brushes her hair, she recognizes it as a memory-in-the-making, willing it into memory in the process.

Racial violence inserts itself again into Jacqueline’s life when the family finds out that the high school that Mama attended as a teenager was burned down in retaliation for Civil Rights protests. This moment shows racial violence not only as a hateful act in itself, but as one with rippling repercussions. As a result of the arson, the lower school must accept the displaced students and provide them with resources, straining their ability to provide for the younger students, and lowering the quality of education for all the students. Still, Jacqueline ends on a hopeful note, believing that hateful violence will not, in the end, defeat racial justice.

Without Mama to keep Georgiana’s fervent beliefs at bay, religion becomes a bigger part of Jacqueline’s life. Jacqueline, however, doesn’t really understand her religion in a meaningful way. Woodson seems to be suggesting that religion without genuine religious feeling lacks real significance, and that forcing religion upon people is ineffective.

Jacqueline shows that she is susceptible to believing fantasies during this poem. It is Jacqueline’s own wild imagination, which so often comforts her, that leads her to believe Cora’s superstition in this instance. The superstition is linked to religion, as Cora evokes the idea of the devil—this shows the negativity that can be tied up in religion and spirituality.

Again, religion features in this poem as a negative aspect of Jacqueline’s life, one that prevents her from enjoying the outdoors. Rather than inspiring awe or devotion, religion seems to be an annoying obligation for Jacqueline.

This poem serves as a reminder that Mama is far away in the North, and that the children miss her. While Jacqueline is still enjoying Greenville, she is pulled between her life there and her desire to be with Mama.

Jacqueline, as she lists her weekly schedule, shows the reader the enormous amount of time that she and her siblings spend in religious environments or studying religious texts. Again, Jacqueline does not describe her immersion in Jehovah’s Witness theology as a positive influence or a particularly spiritually meaningful experience. In this poem, it seems to structure her life practically rather than morally. This makes Jacqueline’s evangelizing come across as ironic— at her grandmother’s urging, Jacqueline walks around town trying to convert people, despite the fact that she shows little faith in the religion she peddles. In exposing the hypocrisy of this paradox, Woodson indicates her skepticism towards forcing religion upon children.

Like with the list of her weekly schedule, the intensity and strictness of Jacqueline’s routine is daunting. When considered with the preceding poem, Woodson seems to be drawing a parallel between the religion that structures Jacqueline’s life and the ribbons she must wear every day: both, for Jacqueline, are things that style and control her life without carrying important personal meaning.

Jacqueline again confronts her vexed relationship with religion when she contemplates Gunnar’s lifestyle and illness, as well as his apparent condemnation by the church. Thinking through this problem, Jacqueline does not find herself wanting to convert her grandfather—instead, she begins to doubt the morality of her religion. She does not understand the idea of a God who would punish Gunnar, and cannot stomach the possibility of a paradise without him. Essentially, Woodson shows religion to be a force that Jacqueline confronts, rather than embraces. It’s a set of rules that seem unfair but that, as a child, she cannot change or remove herself from.

Gunnar’s insistence that his own individual morality is sufficient and that he does not need organized religion offers Jacqueline a different perspective on religion from the one that her grandmother drills into her. Woodson shows Jacqueline struggling between these two very different conceptions of morality and religion.

Mama uses her lush descriptions of the city to try to instill in the children an excitement about their move to New York . Instead, Jacqueline and Odella focus on their dolls, pretending to be mothers to them that, unlike their own mother, will never leave. Woodson again shows Jacqueline’s life as torn between the South, where she lives, and the North, where her mother is.

Woodson describes the ideas that people in Greenville have about New York, and this confirms Jacqueline’s sense that economic prosperity is practically inevitable there. These stories appeal to Jacqueline, but later, once she moves to New York, they turn out to be false.

Again, being a Jehovah’s Witness seems like a burden to Jacqueline rather than a benefit.

The children fail to grasp the significance of their religious study and they do not understand the way that Georgiana and other Jehovah’s Witnesses imagine God to work. Despite their lack of genuine belief in their religion, they abstractly believe Georgiana and Kingdom Hall when they promise paradise and eternity in return for devotion.

The title of this poem, “sometimes, no words are needed,” suggests that Jacqueline is experimenting not only with effusive narration, but also with the power of silence. Sometimes, she understands, silences can be appropriate and productive, and language can sometimes be unnecessary or insufficient to describe feeling.

This poem serves primarily to forward the memoir’s plot, as the big change Jacqueline anticipated is finally going to happen: the family is officially moving to New York. Likewise, the news of Mama’s pregnancy marks a big change in Jacqueline’s life. The fact that the news is delivered in the form of a letter, rather than a phone call, perhaps foreshadows the fact that, in the third part of the memoir, it’s writing (rather than speaking) that will take precedence as Jacqueline’s primary mode of storytelling.

Jacqueline begins to use her skills as a storyteller, not only to bring herself comfort, but also to comfort others. Here, Woodson shows Jacqueline successfully comforting her grandfather in his illness by distracting him with stories of her own invention, which marks her progress as a storyteller over the course of the book.

Jacqueline struggles with the idea of her role in the family changing, which challenges her identity as the youngest child. Not only will Jacqueline be moving to the North, but she will also have a slightly different role in the family; the title of the poem suggests that Jacqueline connects the two changes.

When Mama arrives in Greenville at last, Jacqueline takes in some of her last breaths of Greenville air, which represents the South to her. Jacqueline, though comforted to be back with her mother, clearly worries about the impending move. When Mama tells them they have a new home in New York, Jacqueline wants to reply that Greenville is their home—this shows Jacqueline’s deep ties to Greenville.

Jacqueline, feeling that her role in the family is threatened, resents Roman and pinches him. Given Jacqueline’s earlier sense that Roman is a “new york baby,” Jacqueline seems to be taking out her anxiety, both about her familial role and about the move North, on Roman.