Towers Falling

Dèja’s narration opens the novel with a description of her father: “Pop groans. He’s having bad dreams again” (1). She talks about having to quiet her baby sister so that she doesn’t disturb him. The author slips in little hints like these that Pop suffers from some form of post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD), but because Dèja hasn’t put the pieces together, the reader may not either. However, we quickly learn that Dèja resents her father’s mysterious illness because it prevents him from getting a job and caring for his children. Dèja notes the stress it puts on her and her mother, and not until the end of the novel does she realize exactly what Pop has been going through because of the September 11th attacks.

Dèja’s limited perspective illustrates Pop as easily upset, but it’s clear how much he means to her. On his few good days in the book, Dèja lights up at her father’s attention. When he tells her that she must be the most intelligent in her class, she narrates, “I can’t help it. I smile” (43). However, because of this love, she feels terrible when she’s inadvertently responsible for causing one of his panic attacks, as when she mentions off-handedly that her class is studying the Twin Towers.

Pop is protective of Dèja, feeling that she is too young to learn about 9/11. This is partly because of his own trauma because of it, but he tries to go to school with her and talk to her teachers. Ultimately, he is convinced that he needs to explain to her what happened. This is a huge step for him. When he meets her at the subway station and they go home to talk, Dèja notices “Pop’s being kind, but underneath his skin, I sense his stress, a low panic in his muscles and bones. Brave. The word pops inside my head. Pop’s being brave” (205-206). He struggles to get through his story for her, but ultimately, it benefits them both. He even suggests to Dèja that they should go to the memorial and museum together. In Dèja’s closing essay, he seems to be managing his PTSD better and has been on medication to help, which signifies that confronting his issues helped him too.

Ben is Dèja’s best friend. He arrives as a new student at the same time she does. Initially, Dèja calls him “uncool,” particularly because of his cowboy boots. However, he reminds her of her brother, “just nice in a dumb kind of way” (8). He and Sabeen frequently help Dèja when she struggles, without needing to draw attention to it. When she’s having a hard time with math, he offers to help. She thinks that he’s going to say it’s easy, but he acknowledges that it’s difficult, making her feel less stupid. Ben is also the one who tells Dèja more about what happened on September 11th.

Dèja feels protective of Ben, which leads to a snafu in which she thinks that the class is making fun of him for his boots when they mention New York’s naked cowboy. At first, as with Sabeen, she doesn’t understand that Ben has his own struggles because he seems to have so much more than she does. However, as she learns more about his parents’ divorce, she thinks, “Ben isn’t poor, but I still feel sad for him. I’m not used to feeling sad for folks who have stuff” (83). He challenges her not to have assumptions about him, just as Dèja challenges him not to make assumptions about her because of her housing situation.

Ultimately, Dèja listens to Ben and helps him navigate some of his struggles with his father not being present. Like her father, Ben’s dad seems to suffer from PTSD. His PTSD stems from being in Afghanistan as part of the war on terror, an indirect connection to 9/11. When they decide to skip school to go see the 9/11 memorial, Dèja wonders if “maybe Ben has a reason too? Not just for me, but for him, too?” (173). This alludes to his father and wanting to understand more about the conflict that had such an impact on him. On their journey, Dèja realizes what a good friend Ben has been, “know[ing], without question, Ben is my best friend” (199). Ben’s dad comes to visit, as we learn in Dèja’s essay at the end, and he plays a huge role in helping Dèja feel like she belongs.

Miss Garcia is Dèja’s homeroom teacher. Dèja describes her as “short, not much bigger than me. Her hair is curly black, her lips bright red, and she wears high heels” (10). She immediately picks up on the fact that Miss Garcia seems to be nervous about the new curriculum, though she isn’t sure why.

Miss Garcia tries to both challenge and support Dèja. She knows that Dèja lives at Avalon, and she offers her the opportunity to draw a different home than her current one to not out this fact to other students. While Dèja says that she’ll draw where she lives now, Miss Garcia at least tries to offer her this as an option. However, she also pushes Dèja to be a better student. Knowing that Dèja didn’t turn in her initial essay, she emphasizes that it’s important to practice her writing. When Dèja agrees but does not seem to mean it, Miss Garcia says, “Don’t say ‘yes, ma’am,’ if you’re just being polite. I’d rather you say, ‘I’m going to work. Be a good student’” (38). The effects of this commitment to helping Dèja seep into her narration when she includes samples from several her of essays, each better than the last.

Miss Garcia, who was in the fifth grade on September 11, 2001, herself struggled with the tragedy. This memory informs her conversation with Pop when he tries to pull Dèja out of Brooklyn Collective Elementary. She and Principal Thompson help him understand why the curriculum is in place and help keep Dèja in a place she enjoys, which contributes to her sense of belonging and her growth.