Annie Holland is growing up in the midst of a large Catholic military family, constantly on the move. Inferior Girl chronicles her struggles in the 1950s and ‘60s, dealing with school bullies, childhood fears, adolescent joys and traumas, including one issue her parents refuse to face.
"You're stupid, ugly and inferior. Nobody likes you." Annie heard these words and others like them every single day for the first fifteen years of her life, running through her brain like a mantra. Her older sister knew everything, so it must be true. Growing up in the middle of a large Catholic military family in the 1950's and '60's, Annie learned to disappear swiftly and silently when her older sister said hurtful things or her older brother swung a baseball bat in her direction, inflicting bruises no one would acknowledge. Annie could run fast, and sometimes managed to stay out of trouble. But when she tried to tell her parents what was going on, they scolded her for being so negative. Only positive, uplifting remarks could be made, they declared and branded her a liar. Annie was desperate; who would believe her? Her reputation was being trashed; her parents thought she was a troublemaker.
Then, just when she thought things couldn't get worse -- they did.
Excerpt
1955
Mary climbed onto the bottom rail of the crib and peered over the top rail at her sleeping baby sister. Her shining blonde hair, cut in a short bob, caught the sunlight and made a halo around her face. In her smocked white dress she looked like a little cherub. Only her words were less than angelic.
“Ugly baby,” Mary hissed, angrily. “You are the ugliest baby in the world.” The dark-haired infant just let out a sigh and rubbed her tiny hand against one ear. Mary stuck out her tongue, and reached out one foot to jump down. Her zori caught on the railing and she tumbled to the floor. Fortunately, she landed on a soft mat so there wasn’t a loud thud to give her away. Mother heard something, though.
“Mary, are you keeping an eye on your little sister?”
Mary skipped down the hall, past the big woven straw basket containing baseball bats, sneakers, and assorted odds and ends belonging to her three older brothers, Ed, Charlie and Jim. Fortunately, all three were off at school. That’s why the house was so quiet. Mary liked this quiet morning time. It felt like she was in charge, without the older ones around. School ran from 7:30 to noon; after that it was just too hot. Later, Mother would take them all over to the pool at the Officer’s Club for a nice long swim. Usually they’d stay at the Club all afternoon. There were always plenty of other children to play with, and some of the moms organized games.
Mother was in the little sewing room off the kitchen. The maids, Berenice and Scholastica, were in the kitchen fixing lunch. She could hear them chattering to each other in a local dialect as she ran past. It wasn’t Tagalog; she didn’t recognize any of the words. From the big living room window, she could see three tall airmen striding across the Clark Air Base parade ground, the green grass bright against their drab khaki uniforms. Men were always marching around out there; it looked like fun. Mary saw one man who looked a bit like Dad, but it wasn’t him. Dad was really tall.
Mother was at the little carved wood table that held her sewing machine, running up a new dress. For her, not that useless, ugly baby. Mother was beautiful, Mary thought. Her wavy red-brown hair curled gracefully at the back of her neck, stopping short of the scalloped collar on her sleeveless blue summer dress. When Mother turned to smile at her, Mary could see her sky-blue eyes light up. Her skin was creamy white, her face almost a perfect oval. She looks like that painting of the Madonna in the front hall, Mary thought, only without the long veil. Even Mother’s voice was pretty, soft and clear, like music.
“Mommy, the baby’s still sleeping. Should I wake her up now?”
Mother shook her head and patiently re-threaded the sewing machine needle. “No, sweetie, let her sleep. She was up half the night; I think she has another ear infection. I’ll get her up in a bit. Now, come here and let me see if this pretty new dress will fit you. Do you like the collar?” Mary skipped over eagerly. It was a lovely, gauzy white dress with tiny black polka dots and a lacy collar.
“Mommy it’s so pretty, I like it!” She twirled around to see the skirt flare out around her.
Mother smiled, “I’m glad you like it, Mary. I’m making one just like it for your little sister.” Mary’s smile fell and she turned away. Mother was always thinking about that ugly baby. She was so tiny; she wasn’t good for anything, and she kept Mother up at night. Not like me; Mother always said I was a perfect angel.
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