The Window

Clare Kendry is a character with a nearly agonizing desire to be accepted by both African Americans and Whites. Though, she is very frustrating to read about, flustering my attitude towards her, I cannot help but feel pity for the woman. The way in which Clare died represents her entire persona. She was a woman trapped by walls of judgement, need of acceptance, rejection, having a single window be her escape.

The window represented and her overview living; she was living in deep constraints, watching, living, breathing her way of life from a distance. The window was supposed to be her freedom, her way of connecting with Irene and Jack, connecting with passing and acceptance, connecting with black and white. However, she she lived a grey life, not fully living white, not fully living black, envious of Irene's ability accept herself as a "Negro;" deprived of life in its entirety. She was hazardous to herself and others around her because of that state of living.

"But it's true, 'Rene. Can't you realize that I'm not like you a bit? Why, to get the things I want badly enough, I'do anything, hurt anybody, throw anything away: Really, 'Rene, I'm not safe" (124, Kindle).

Standing by the window, Clare in way, had her both worlds connected to her but not to each other. She was at a dance surrounded by the African American race, her husband, though viscous, fully aware of her true identity. Had only her worlds connected with each, accepting each other the way she desired Clare wouldn't have passed on that night. She finally passed into world accepting of her state of being, dead.