The themes of heritage and cultural identity often become central to literary works. In Everyday Use by Walker (1994), a conflicted story is presented, opposing superficial cultural values to practical ones. The main conflict revolves around Maggie’s and Dee’s desire to own quilts that symbolically represent enduring legacy and family bonds. As the older sister pretends to have a deep connection with national culture, she is foreign to the traditions, unlike her younger sister. This paper offers an alternative scene in the short story from Maggie’s perspective.
When Mama and I expect Dee’s visit, I always get nervous. She moved out long ago as she went to college, and ever since that day, she has grown even more distant from us. With Mama, I have a quiet life here, but Dee’s presence is always a threat to my peace. I’m sure she hates this house just as much as she despised the other one, where the fire happened. Over ten years have passed, but I still have these ugly scars all over my hands and legs. It was the moment when I knew I would never make something of myself. It is Dee who will live the life of a fancy, shiny, and educated woman. I could never be like that.
Sometimes I just accept this thought and my miserable fate. To be honest, I’m alright with the life I have here with Mama. It’s all I can have, after all. Mama, this house, and John Thomas if we marry in the future. Oh, and Grandma Dee’s quilts, as I had thought. It turned out, even this small reminder of something good was too much to ask for. The last time Dee visited, she brought this weird man with gross hands and snooped around the house, praising the things we have from our relatives. She used to hate them so much but suddenly began to admire them and wanted to take them away from us. As I heard her demanding the quilts, my heart sank, and my hands started shaking with anger. I was certain she would have them and was startled when Mama stood up for me. Dee left soon, and it was just the two of us again, Mama and I.
Still amazed and puzzled, I felt like I had to tell Mama something. “There’s something you have to see,” I said. She followed me into my bedroom, and I approached the closet to pull out a quilt I made myself. “I know how to quilt, as I said.” Mama took it and ran her fingers over the pieces of fabric. Her eyes widened as she saw bits of dresses Grandma Dee used to wear. That’s why I said I didn’t need the old quilts to remember her. I had another one containing a reminder of her and made by myself.
“Those are my overalls,” I pointed out to pieces of denim. Mama looked up at me, her eyes glowing with an emotion I had never seen before. Was that… admiration? She exhaled and pulled me into a tight hug. The second one in a day. A warm feeling spread in my heart, and for the first time in a long while, I believed I was safe. Later that day, we had a nice dinner and spent some hours going through other heirlooms found in Mama’s trunk. She told me more of the stories I love, about Grandma Dee, Big Dee, Uncle buddy, and the others. I wasn’t thinking about Dee and how she was. I felt something inside me change like on the night of the fire, but this time, I wasn’t burnt. My heart remembered the feeling of delight. It was the moment I felt good about myself, and I didn’t have to be like Dee for that.
Reference
Walker, A. (1994). Everyday use. Rutgers University Press.