Sabrina Character Analysis

Listening to these mentors, I feel like I can prove the negative stereotypes about girls like me wrong. That I can and will do more, be more.

But when I leave? It happens again. The shattering.

And this makes me wonder if a black girl’s life is only about being stitched together and coming undone, being stitched together and coming undone.

I wonder if there’s ever a way for a girl like me to feel whole.

“You hanging around all those uppity black women who done forgot where they came from. Maxine know she knows about fried fish. I don’t know one black person who hasn’t been to a fish fry at least once in their life. Where she from?”

Mom won’t stop talking. She goes on and on about Maxine and Sabrina and how they are a different type of black [...]

“You need to talk to whoever is in charge. Have you said anything to anyone?”

I don’t answer.

“They can’t read your mind. I mean, I get what you’re saying—some of that stuff is a little corny, and a lot of it is offensive. But I don’t know; what’s the better option? Stay silent, leave the program, and they never have a chance to do better?”

“All right, all right. I’ll think about it,” I tell Lee Lee. I don’t know why I never considered it before. Here I am, so focused on learning to speak another language, and I barely use the word I already know.

I need to speak up for myself. For what I need, for what I want.

This conversation isn’t as intense as I thought it would be.

Maxine asks, “So what are some things Woman to Woman can do better?”

[...] “Well, I’d like to learn about real-life things—I mean, like you know, how to create a budget and balance a checkbook so I’ll know how much money I can spend and how much to put aside so the lights don’t get turned off,” I tell her.

Listening to these mentors, I feel like I can prove the negative stereotypes about girls like me wrong. That I can and will do more, be more.

But when I leave? It happens again. The shattering.

And this makes me wonder if a black girl’s life is only about being stitched together and coming undone, being stitched together and coming undone.

I wonder if there’s ever a way for a girl like me to feel whole.

“You hanging around all those uppity black women who done forgot where they came from. Maxine know she knows about fried fish. I don’t know one black person who hasn’t been to a fish fry at least once in their life. Where she from?”

Mom won’t stop talking. She goes on and on about Maxine and Sabrina and how they are a different type of black [...]

“You need to talk to whoever is in charge. Have you said anything to anyone?”

I don’t answer.

“They can’t read your mind. I mean, I get what you’re saying—some of that stuff is a little corny, and a lot of it is offensive. But I don’t know; what’s the better option? Stay silent, leave the program, and they never have a chance to do better?”

“All right, all right. I’ll think about it,” I tell Lee Lee. I don’t know why I never considered it before. Here I am, so focused on learning to speak another language, and I barely use the word I already know.

I need to speak up for myself. For what I need, for what I want.

This conversation isn’t as intense as I thought it would be.

Maxine asks, “So what are some things Woman to Woman can do better?”

[...] “Well, I’d like to learn about real-life things—I mean, like you know, how to create a budget and balance a checkbook so I’ll know how much money I can spend and how much to put aside so the lights don’t get turned off,” I tell her.