Brown Girl Dreaming

Woodson and her siblings return to New York City. Their youngest brother Roman is better, but still frail. When he and their mother greet them at the bus terminal, Woodson notes that Roman still has a hospital band on his wrist. In “family,” she perceives that “[w]e are not all finally and safely / home” (207).

Roman eventually returns home. His time in the hospital has transformed him, but Woodson and her siblings are relieved to have their baby brother back. Another source of comfort in Woodson’s life is her “new best friend” (209), a Spanish girl named Maria. Maria is Woodson’s neighbor, and the two of them see one another every day. In “trading places,” Maria teaches Woodson Spanish, and they trade meals that their parents have made for them: “Sometimes / we sit side by side on her stoop, our traded plates / in our laps” (216).

In “writing 1,” Woodson continues to love stories and writing, but also struggles with spelling and sounding out words: “[…] as I bend over my composition notebook, / only my name / comes quickly” (217). In “writing 2,” as a strategy to cope with her dyslexia, she learns how to memorize songs, books, and TV commercials: “songs and stories and whole new worlds / tucking themselves into / my memory” (232). She also finds solace in a children’s picture book called “Stevie,” about a Black family like her own. In “stevie and me,” she reflects that had she been pressured to read more mature books, she might “never have believed / that someone who looked like me / could be in the pages of a book” (228).

The Woodson children return to Greenville, South Carolina, during their summer vacation. Their grandfather’s health has deteriorated, and he no longer gets out of bed. In “daddy this time,” Woodson cares for him while her siblings play outside, shy of their grandfather’s illness: “His room smells, my sister says / But I don’t smell anything except the lotion / I rub into my grandfather’s hands” (235).

Upon their return to New York City, Woodson reunites with Maria. She also begins to earn recognition for her storytelling and memorizing skills. In “the selfish giant,” after reciting the Oscar Wilde story “The Selfish Giant” to her fourth grade class from memory, she receives praise by both her teacher and classmates: “But I just shrug, not knowing what to say. / How can I explain to anyone that stories / are like air to me” (247).

In “far rockaway,” Woodson becomes aware that her uncle Robert might be involved in illegal activities. One night, policemen knock on her family’s door looking for Robert; on another night, Woodson overhears her mother imploring Robert to “stay safe / […] Don’t get into trouble out there, Robert” (241). Robert is eventually arrested, and calls Woodson’s mother one night from Riker’s Island prison. He is transferred from Riker’s Island to Dannemora, a prison upstate, and Woodson and her family go to visit him there. In “on the bus to dannemora,” Woodson falls asleep on the way to the prison and dreams about “a whole train filled / with love and […] the people on it / aren’t in prison but are free to dance” (267). She wakes from the dream and begins to compose a song.

In “not robert,” Woodson is shocked by how prison life has changed Robert. His head has been shaved, and he has lost weight: “Even when he smiles / […] the bit I catch of it […] is a half smile” (272) On the bus ride back home to the city, she continues to work on her song. The song is inspired by the mountainous landscape that she sees outside the bus windows, which she describes in “mountain song” as an elegy for “everything that feels far behind me now, everything / that is going // or already gone” (274).

Once home, Woodson and her family receive news that Woodson’s grandfather is about to die. In “daddy”, they fly to Greenville, South Carolina; it is Woodson’s first plane ride, and she wishes that she could tell her grandfather about it: “But / my grandfather is sleeping when we come to his bedside / opens his eyes only to smile” (276-77). He dies that evening, and Woodson and her family bury him shortly afterwards. Woodson also describes in “daddy” how the funeral involves a procession through the streets of Nicholtown with all of the mourners dressed in white: “This is how we bury our dead—a silent parade / through the streets, showing the world our sadness, others / who knew my grandfather joining in on the walk” (277). 

After Gunnar’s death, Woodson’s grandmother moves into their New York City apartment. She moves into the downstairs bedroom, surrounded by furniture and mementos from her old life. In “what’s left behind,” Woodson and her grandmother both take solace in how much Woodson resembles Gunnar: “I got my grandfather’s easy way. Maybe / I know this when I’m laughing” (288).

Woodson begins to think about questions of fate and belief. In “fate & faith & reasons,” while her mother is not an observant Jehovah’s Witness, she tells Woodson that she does believe in God and destiny: “No accidents, my mother says. Just fate and faith / and reasons” (294). Woodson and her friend Maria also speculate about how, if their lives had gone a little differently, they might never have met and become friends. Their speculation in the poem “what if…?” reaches far into the past: “What if no one had ever walked the grassy fields / that are now Madison Street and said / Let’s put some houses here” (295).

In her classroom, Woodson learns about the history of her Bushwick neighborhood. She addresses this fact in “bushwick history lesson.” She learns, for instance, that her neighborhood was partially settled by “Franciscus the Negro, a former slave / who bought his own freedom” (297). The history gives her a sense of her own inevitability and destiny, and frees her up to write: “I keep writing, knowing now / that I was a long time coming” (298).

From her mother and Uncle Robert, Woodson learns about the Black Panther movement. Robert has been freed from prison, and has converted to Islam while there. In “the promised land,” his new faith serves to further broaden Woodson’s world and to give her a sense of new perspectives and stories: “And even though we know / we Witnesses are the chosen ones, we listen / to the stories he tells” (300). In “the revolution,” Robert tells Woodson, “Don’t wait for your school to teach you / […] about the revolution. It’s happening in the streets” (308).

Woodson’s sense of social justice fuels her writing, as does her growing sense of the wider world. In “what i believe,” she sees writing as a way to make sense of her many identities and the complexity of her family history: “I believe in God and evolution / I believe in the Bible and the Qur’an / I believe in Christmas and the New World” (317). She also realizes that writing is a way to make herself heard and to effect change in the world. After she reads a poem that she has written out loud to her fifth grade class, her teacher tells her that she is a writer. In “each world,” Woodson holds on to this praise, and continues to dream of becoming a writer, free to visit “many worlds / you can choose the one / you walk into each day” (319).