Ribbons

As Robin grows alongside the adults in her life, she consistently encounters generational differences. She struggles to relate to Grandmother, for instance, and notices that their relationship suffers in turn. However, when Robin considers her elders with empathy, she’s better able to understand their perspective and to forge a lasting bond.

Robin and Grandmother’s relationship gets off to a rough start: Grandmother ignores Robin’s affectionate greeting, criticizes her American fashion, and overtly favors Ian. The most serious incident occurs when Grandmother, glimpsing Robin’s feet, exclaims that Robin “mustn’t dance” (97) and draws Mom and Dad to her side. At this point in the novel, Robin is admittedly “self-absorbed” (122), and she predictably struggles to interpret Grandmother’s motivations. For instance, Robin criticizes Grandmother as “ignorant,” imagining that she disapproves of her “half American and half Chinese” heritage (93). Similarly, when Grandmother discourages Robin from dancing, Robin assumes that she “wanted war” (101) and complains that “[Grandmother’s] so mean to [her]” (103). In characterizing Grandmother from such a limited point of view, Robin misunderstands her as malicious. Without a more nuanced approach, Robin threatens to derail any chance of connection.

Ultimately, however, Robin approaches her relationship with Grandmother with a new tool: empathy. After realizing that Grandmother is a victim of footbinding, Robin interprets her actions in an entirely new, more favorable light: “I was beginning to understand,” Robin admits. “When she had seen my curled toes and tape, she had leapt to the wrong conclusions” (111). She realizes, too, that Grandmother’s aloofness stems from self-consciousness, or an anxiety that Robin might laugh at her like “the rich girls back home in China” (117). Here, as Robin empathetically considers Grandmother’s position, she revises her previous characterization. Instead of a standoffish conniver, Grandmother is suddenly a scared, wounded survivor who only wants the best for her granddaughter. Robin applies this new empathetic thinking to Mom, too: Though Robin has often resented Mom for her severity, their honest moments compel Robin to sympathize with her difficult position. For instance, as Mom shudders to explain footbinding, Robin realizes her burden and likens her to a “small child,” not unlike herself (113). Just like Grandmother, Robin reinterprets Mom as a complex but well-meaning individual.

Each of these moments, with both Grandmother and Mom, marks a powerful transformation; in demonstrating the power of empathy, Yep completely recharacterizes the novel’s central relationships. Going forward, Robin and Grandmother enjoy a special connection: They indulge in soap operas, educate each other on cultural norms, and even watch Robin’s recital tape. In a telling moment, Grandmother similarly approaches Robin with empathy, as she seeks to understand “why [Robin] like[s] to dance” (123). Robin and Mom, too, enter into a new kind of respect, and Robin avoids pestering Mom about returning to her lessons. In the novel’s beginning, intergenerational relationships may have been especially fraught, but here, they emerge as beacons of love and understanding, strengthened by empathy. The novel’s ending cements this theme with a powerful image: Robin, Mom, and Grandmother sew ribbons on Robin’s shoes, emphasizing the continuity of their new, deep bond.