“‘I had never heard of chewing gum, so she went out and got me a whole pack. I pulled out a stick, took off the white paper and the shiny silver foil under it, and studied the powdery, putty-colored gum. I put it in my mouth and was stunned by the sharp sweetness. 'It's really good!' I said...When Mom wanted to know what it was the doctors and nurses were doing that was so nice, I told her about the chewing gum. 'Ugh,' she said. She disapproved of chewing gum, she went on. It was a disgusting low-class behavior’” (Walls 12).
Within the chapter Walls recalls a time when she ended up in the hospital after getting burned cooking hot dogs. She was merely three years old, and when the doctors questioned what she was doing cooking hotdogs, she did not find her behavior unusual. She was simply cooking for herself, “It wasn’t like there was some complicated recipe” (Walls 11). Throughout her stay in the hospital, she was exposed to new experiences and she “liked it” (Walls 11). She was even given chewing gum by a nurse; Walls “had never heard of chewing gum” and when she tried it she thought it was “really good!” When she tells her Mom about the chewing gum, she disapproves, calling it “disgusting low-class behavior.” The significance the passage holds is in how it presents a contrast between Walls’ opinion, and her Mom’s. She did not understand what the doctors found strange about her cooking hot dogs at age three, and she did not understand why chewing gum was vulgar behavior. It is clear that Walls’ views are not just based on experience, but her parents' influence. She does not find cooking for herself unsafe, because her Mom trusts her to do it; as soon as she gets back from the hospital she goes right back to making hot dogs. When given the gum she gets a chance to form her own opinion, and it does not match her Moms. She likes the hospital, and she likes chewing gum, but her Mom disapproves. Creating conflict for young Walls’ individual views compared to her Moms.
“Once I got my breath back, I crawled along the railroad embankment to the road and sat down to wait for Mom and Dad to come back. My whole body felt sore. The sun was small and white and broiling-hot. A wind had come up, and it was roiling in the dust along the roadside. I waited for what seemed like a long time before I decided it was possible Mom and Dad might not come back for me. They might not notice I was missing. They might decide that it wasn’t worth the drive back to retrieve me; that like Quixote the cat, I was a bother and a burden they could do without” (Walls 30).
This passage occurs after Walls falls out of the family car. They had recently left their initial trailer park and had Walls’ Dad throw their cat, Quixote, out the car window for not liking the car. Walls cried at first, but after telling her “Don’t be so sentimental,” and that “we could always get another cat,” her parents got her to forget about Quixote (Walls 18). When Walls herself tumbles out she fears that “like Quixote the cat, [she] was a bother and a burden they could do without.” Walls’ sudden shift in tone provides a very different way she viewed her family. Previously from a young age, she had been proud of her family, sharing their stories with the reader. She explained how her sister, Mary Charlene, had died (which her mom was never upset about), and her father's dream of building a “Glass Castle” for all of them to live in. When she gets thrown out, she applies her family’s words about Quixote to herself and is able to logically believe that they will not be coming back for her. Their lack of sentimentality over Quixote, and Mary Charlene fuels Walls’ convinces her “[she] was a bother and a burden they could do without.” Rather than being infatuated with her family's life of instability and adventure she fears it. The purpose of the text is to show how Walls’ parent's behaviors affect her. She knows they mean what they say, and though she loves them for what they believe, she fears it will lead to her being left behind.
“I wondered if the fire had been out to get me. I wondered if all fire was related, like Dad said all humans were related if the fire that had burned me that day while I cooked hot dogs was somehow connected to the fire I had flushed down the toilet and the fire burning the hotel. I didn’t have the answers to those questions, but what I did know was that I lived in a world that at any moment could erupt into fire. It was the sort of knowledge that kept you on your toes” (Walls 34).
Walls recalls her memories with fire. The novel began with the day she was burned cooking hot dogs, and since that incident, she’s been playing with fire; melting her Tinkerbell doll, and most recently she flushed fire down a toilet. Her parents encouraged her interest, telling her, “You can’t live in fear of something as basic as fire” and teaching her to pass her finger through a candle flame (Walls 16). Having been burned does not strike fear, but fascination. While she watches the burning hotel, she wonders if all fires are connected. She expects the fire to follow her around, becoming one of the few familiar aspects of her life. Walls uses fire to symbolize the nature of her family. Even though she keeps testing fire, she doesn't know what or when to expect it, it keeps her on her toes. Just like her life on the road with her family, something she’s certain of is that “[She] lived in a world that at any moment could erupt into fire.” Even with a life of uncertainty, Walls has found consistency in exactly that. No matter how badly she gets burned she can not live in fear.
“From the time the Joshua tree was a tiny sapling, it had been so beaten down by the whipping wind that, rather than trying to grow skyward, it had grown in the direction that the wind pushed it. It existed now in a permanent state of windblown ness, leaning over so far that it seemed ready to topple, although, in fact, its roots held firmly in place. I thought the Joshua tree was ugly. It looked scraggly and freakish, permanently stuck in its twisted, tortured position, and it made me think of how some adults tell you not to make weird faces because your features could freeze. Mom, however, thought it was one of the most beautiful trees she had ever seen. She told us she had to paint it” (Walls 35).
While driving Rosemary Walls spots and becomes captivated by an ancient Joshua tree. The passage details what the tree looks like: it has faced so much wind, that it no longer grows in the right direction, but despite this, its roots will not allow it to fall. Despite the tree's crooked state, Rosemary Walls believes it is the most beautiful tree she had ever seen. Later on, Rosemary explains “It’s the Joshua tree’s struggle that gives it its beauty” (Walls 45). The Joshua tree symbolizes Rosemary’s methodology for raising her children. She strongly believes in self-sufficiency, disapproves of rules, and lets her children learn from their mistakes. It is their struggles, whether it be getting burned, or falling out of a moving vehicle, that makes them who they are. Forcing her children to suffer alone, when Jeanette tells her Uncle Stanley touched her inappropriately Rosemary claimed she imagined it and sympathized with Stanley. The only empathy she offered Jeannette was the idealized advice “that sexual assault was a crime of perception, if you don’t think you are hurt you aren’t” (Walls 184). Rosemary Walls insists her children learn to be self-reliant and strong, just like the Joshua tree. They can not rely on doctors, society, or their parents for help, it was her policy. Jeanette did end up like the Joshua tree; though she has been “beaten down” and grows in the direction society pushes her, her roots hold her firmly in place.
‘“I want that one,” I said. Dad grinned. “That’s Venus,” he said. Venus was only a planet, he went on, and pretty dinky compared to real stars. She looked bigger and brighter because she was much closer than the stars. Poor old Venus didn’t even make her own light, Dad said. She shone only from reflected light. He explained to me that planets glowed because reflected light was constant, and stars twinkled because their light pulsed. “I like it anyway,” I said. I had admired Venus even before that Christmas. You could see it in the early evening, glowing on the western horizon, and if you got up early, you could still see it in the morning, after all the stars had disappeared. “What the hell,” Dad said. “It’s Christman. You can have a planet if you want”’ (Walls 40).
The passage above is a memory of a Christmas when once again, Rex Walls had lost his job. Since they could not afford toys, the children each got a star as a present. The unconventional give symbolizes Rex Walls’ views on life, which can be considered unconventional. Compared to a toy, a star should not be too much for a five-year-old. But the Walls family laughed at the kids who got nothing but cheap plastic toys. Rex told his children that “Years from now, when all the junk they got is broken and long forgotten…you’ll still have your stars,” (Walls 41). The stars symbolize Rex Walls’ beliefs, that, for a long time, his children shared. They really believed all his crazy ideologies and dreams for the future. He wanted to be their father figure and give them everything, but his alcoholism lead to them being disappointed over and over again. Those fantastic dreams and ideas made up for his imperfections. He gave Jeanette the planet of love, and she treasured it until after he died. Jeanette did lose faith in her father, but “as awful as he could be, [she] always knew he loved [her] in a way no one else ever had” (Walls 279).
‘“Lori’s and Brian’s teachers also put them in gifted reading groups. Brian hated it because the other kids were older and he was the littlest guy in the class, but Lori and I were secretly thrilled to be called special. Instead of letting on that we felt that way, however, we made light of it. When we told Mom and Dad about our reading groups, we paused before the word “gifted,” clasping our hands beneath our chins, fluttering our eyelids, and pretending to look angelic. “Don’t make a mockery of it,” Dad said. “Course you’re special. Haven’t I always told you that?”’
The family has just moved to the house on North Third Street and the Walls kids just entered a new school. When the kids were placed in gifted reading groups, Walls admits that both she and Lori were secretly thrilled. When they told their parents, they mocked the groups by “pretending to look angelic.” Rex Walls’ response told them to stop making a mockery of their achievement. He exclaimed “Course you’re special. Haven’t I always told you that?” The text emphasizes Rex Walls’ genuine love for his children. He refuses to submit to any form of authority, so he did not need a gifted program to believe his children are special. If you look over his irresponsible nature, Rex Walls is an excellent father, and his affection toward his children is genuine.