Starting off reading “New day” by Edward P. Jones, I was instantly taken in by how much I could relate to the narrator telling about her five-year-old life. Some of my fondest memories were of my mom braiding my own and my sisters hair. I remember the smell of hair grease when whipping my hair around to feel my bare scalp catch wind. I remember the smell of hair grease when whipping my hair around in the wind and the pain of trying to sleep with hair barrettes and my edges being pulled so tight that it hurt to blink my eyes. My mom would take me with her when she went to the Human Resources building to fill out papers or to the car dealership to get a new car, or to the hospital when I was sick. She would always carry around with her all the papers that looked like scribbles to me at the time, but now I understand. My mom is also a I’m–going–to–get–it–done–no–matter–what–it–takes mama, and though she respects those who are more educated, she wants what’s best for her daughters and feels that only she knows what’s best.
Jones uses a reflective tone throughout and we later on see that she is a grown woman writing about this experience happening to her. We see a relationship between her and her mom that hee five-year-old-self absolutely was in love with her mother, she wanted to be just like her and admired everything she did. But see see an interaction between the mom and the desk lady in the school that has made the daughter lose some respect for the mother, because she sees that she’s not as powerful as she thought. She can’t read. Reading is something that she probably wasn’t able to learn but when she needs help filling out certain things on the form for her to go to school, we see a switch on how she talks about her mother.