Never-Ending List of Expectations

As a college student that grew up in a Mexican household, I am all too familiar with the clash between my studies and what is expected of me as a woman. I have had the good luck that my family is a lot more progressive than other families and encourages me to pursue what I wish. However, whether they mean to or not, I’ve noticed that, aside from my schooling, they still expect me to follow more traditional female roles.. When I compare the standards my parents hold my brother to to that of my own, I realize that there is a distinct disparity between the two.  Despite being the younger of the two, they have come to expect me to be able to juggle more responsibilities and often rely on me more to take care of any favors. Throughout my life, I have been taught how to “seamlessly” integrate these habits into my everyday life. My mother taught me what a woman is meant to know and what she is meant to be able to do. This teaching was seen to be separate from my academic education–something that had to be added on top of everything else I was supposed to do.

This interminable list of expectations is what made Jamaica Kincaid’s “Girl” stand out to me, a story about a girl being taught about what is expected of her. Making a one-sentence story feels like something that shouldn’t work, but Kincaid skillful manipulation of pacing and rhythm invokes how it feels to have one thing piled onto you after the other, extremely similar to the experience I describe above. Kincaid simulates the overwhelming and unrealistic workload society places on women through the continual use of the semicolon, imperative direct address, and shifting between two narrators. 

As stated before, this story has the unique structure of being just one sentence and yet, it is 681 words long. How is this possible? Aren’t run-on sentences frowned upon? To accomplish this feat, Kincaid utilizes semicolons to continue adding sentence clauses as the story goes on. Since each sentence is directly related to the one before but are still complete sentences, her grammar is technically correct, but why does she do this? Why doesn’t she keep each sentence separate? Using a semicolon has the unique effect of making the pacing faster. Periods–aptly named full stops–cause the reader to pause momentarily before going onto the next sentence. Even if the succeeding sentences are related to the previous one, the period adds a sense of finality that mentally isolates each sentence clause.

The semicolon, on the other hand, offers a much shorter pause as the reader remains on standby to see how the following clause is related to the first. The reader knows that the argument they are reading is not yet complete so whatever is read after the semicolon is viewed as additional material to the first clause. Kincaid takes advantage of this mental process to begin creating a sense of overwhelm. Semicolons are usually used for two to five independent clauses so the mental accumulation isn’t too burdensome. However, fifty-one sentences is liable to overwhelm anyone’s mental backlog. The types of sentence structures she uses vary in complexity as well, preventing it from feeling repetitive and forcing the reader to try to register all the information that is being thrown at them. 

Another method Kincaid uses for reproducing how women feel pressured into following the relentless amount of obligations given to them is her use of imperative sentences. Almost every independent clause that the narrator says is an imperative sentence–a command. Such commands as “[…] don’t walk bare-head in the hot sun; cook pumpkin fritters in very hot sweet oil; soak your little cloths right after you take them off…,” have the implied direct pronoun of “you.” The commands the narrator delivers slowly morph into a long list of “this is how you should [X].” Despite the use of the word “should,” the directions given are no less obligatory than the previous ones. When someone is being told to do something, especially things as inane as some of the things listed in the story, there is an instinctual response to resist the order. However, as the narrator soldiers on, the reader can do nothing but try to take in everything that is being said to them while also trying to emotionally respond at the same time. This uneasy mix of emotions is something that is all too familiar for women.

Since women are often expected to multitask to a higher degree than men, they can be easily overworked, leaving little room for them to process their emotional state as they undertake these tasks. This creates an inner turmoil that funnels into the general feeling of overwhelm. This is something that I have keenly experienced. Since so much is expected of me, I often prioritize what I have to do over my own well-being. Similarly, there are moments of time where I haven’t mentally checked in on myself, leaving me to question why I feel burnt out or emotionally uneasy. I have to make a conscious effort to take a step back and fulfill my needs before meeting the needs of others. Women are often conditioned by society to follow this peculiar lifestyle and it takes considerable practice to undo these practices. 

The only instances in which the narrator is not giving a command is when they berate the girl they are speaking to for doing something outside the accepted realm of female roles. One such moment is when they ask, “[…] is it true that you sing benna in Sunday school?” This unfounded accusation elicits a response from the girl–noted by italics–as she rebukes the claim. Here, we are given a brief glimpse into the person who is being addressed. Now that we know that the girl can speak back, it makes the other narrator’s presence all the more overwhelming. The girl is only given two sentences out of the 51 total in the story, showcasing how one narrative voice overpowers the other.

The second time the girl speaks, she makes an innocent question, “[…] but what if the baker won’t let me feel the bread?” It’s a legitimate question from a girl who has limited experience with how the world works, especially since it’s reasonable to assume that bakers may not want customers to “squeeze” the bread as the narrator suggests. However, the question draws out a disproportionate response from the narrator. Instead of reassuring the girl, the narrator accuses them of being the “[…] kind of woman who the baker won’t let near the bread?” The girl was looking to understand the world around her but was instead scolded for questioning what she was told. The narrator seems to believe that, should the girl follow the previous order to a T, then there is no reasonable situation in which a baker would bar someone from touching the bread. These interactions show how the baseline expectation for women when they fall short of what society demands of them is that they are morally flawed. Kincaid includes the girl’s perspective to highlight the thin line that women have to toe whenever they’re out in society unless they want to be accused of being something they are not. 

Kincaid’s avant-garde story gives readers a glimpse into the mind and upbringing of women. Her grammatical prowess lends itself to an emotionally charged narrative, making for a unique example of literature. Nowadays, these struggles are a lot more public than before, but these internalized beliefs are often passed down from one generation to the next. In order to begin undoing these perceptions, people have to realize that women’s perceptions of themselves are often taught and are often a reflection of the society around them.

Works Cited:

Kincaid, Jamaica. “Girl.” The New Yorker, The New Yorker, 19 June 1978, www.newyorker.com/magazine/1978/06/26/girl.