Why Iggie’s House by Judy Blume is Still Relevant When it Comes to Discussions About Race
I’ll let you in on a little secret- I love Judy Blume’s books. She’s one of my favorite authors, and she’s the reason why I began writing in the first place. Some of my favorite books by her are Are You There, God? It’s Me, Margaret, Then Again, Maybe I Won’t, the Fudge series, Deenie, Here’s to You, Rachel Robinson, and Iggie’s House. I have to give Judy Blume a whole lot of credit for addressing real, pressing, social issues in her young adult books even though most of them were written and published in the 1970s and 1980s. Because they were written in that time, some of the messages can be a bit outdated, but they still have important messages readers from the present can still learn from.
There is, however, one book of hers that I think still clicks with readers and what’s been going on in our world to this day. That book is Iggie’s House. Iggie’s House, for those who don’t know, follows the main character Winifred “Winnie” Bates Barringer as she tries to combat racism by befriending the black neighbors, Glenn, Herbie, and Tina Garber, who have moved into her friend Iggie’s old house. The Garbers obviously have to deal with racism from neighbors such as Mrs. Landon and her daughter Clarice. It’s pretty obvious this book was written and published in 1970 because the characters, the white ones at least, use the terms “Negro” and “colored” when describing black people. Also, Winnie has to wear a swimming cap when she goes to the swimming pool with her aunt; I’ve never had this rule applied to me or any other girl when I went to the swimming pool in the 2000s. Other than that, this book and its message are pretty timeless. Let’s analyze why Iggie’s House is still relevant when it comes to discussions about race.
The story starts with Winnie moping in her room, watching to see who is going to move into her friend Iggie’s old house. When her mom tells her to get out of her room and stop moping around, Winnie goes outside and rides up to Iggie’s house. When a family eventually does drive up to the house, Winnie’s surprised to see that the family is black. Keep in mind that this book was published all the way back in 1970, so it does used some dated language. Anyways, here’s the scene right after Winnie sees the new family.
As soon as the new people unlocked the red front door and stepped into Iggie’s house, Winnie took off like a rocket. She didn’t stop until she was almost home. Then she remembered her bike. She practically flew back to Iggie’s, jumped on her bike and pedaled furiously down the block. She collapsed on the back stoop and yelled, “Mom… HEY MOM!”
Her mother rushed to the door, wiping her hands on her aprons. “My goodness, Winnie, what happened to you? Are you all right?”
“Fine Mom, fine.”
“But you’re all covered with mud! Don’t you dare come into the house like that.”
Winnie shook her head impatiently. “Mom, never mind about the mud. I saw them, Mom. I saw the new people. And guess what Mom? They’re Negro! All of them. The kids and the parents. The whole family’s Negro!”
Now, you’re probably wondering what’s so special about some black people moving into the neighborhood. Well, let me remind you that again, this book was published in 1970, and Winnie, being a white protagonist, probably didn’t know a whole lot of people of color or had any interactions with them. It’s quite evident with this line.
Anyway, there were no Negro families living in their end of town. And only a very few in the other end. So her folks had nothing to say on the subject. Besides, they liked to pretend everyone was just like they were. But Winnie read the papers and she had seen plenty on T.V. And just last spring her teacher had assigned the whole class to do a paper on “What I Can Do to Improve Racial Relationships.” That was pretty funny, she had said to Iggie’s family. What could she possibly do when she hardly knew anybody of another race?
Winnie closed her eyes and tried to think of all the Negro people she knew. There weren’t many. None in her class. There was a kid in third grade but Winnie didn’t know him. She knew Bert, the mailman. She knew Irma, who helped her mother spring clean every year. But she didn’t know any Negro kids her own age.
This is still quite true to this day. I went to school with a good amount of black and Hispanic people, but the only people I know who live on my street had just moved right across the street from me this year. Yes, this year. I think a black family lived on another street next to mine, and the other street next to mine has a Hispanic family, I think an Asian family, and there used to be a black family. But that’s about it. The schools may be more integrated nowadays, but the neighborhoods still really aren’t.
Anyways, let’s fast forward to when Winnie meets the Garbers. She meets Glenn, who’s the same age and in the same grade as her. She also meets the youngest member Tina, who’s only eight. And then she meets Herbie, whom she thinks is a “girl hater”. Let me inform you that, much like today, feminism was also a huge topic back in the 1970s. So, after meeting the Garbers and inviting them to go to the park with her, Winnie says this to them-
“Say! Are you from Africa?”
Herbie turned away from Winnie, dropping his stick. He pounded his fist into his left hand and mumbled, “Man! Oh man!”
“What made you think we were from Africa?” Glenn asked.
“Man! I’ll tell you what gave her that idea,” Herbie said, facing Winnie. “It’s because we’re black! That’s why. She probably thinks everybody with black skin comes from Africa. Man! I just knew this would happen.”
“That is not why I asked,” Winnie insisted. But she wondered why on earth she had asked in the first place. “I just figured that maybe Iggie’s folks sold their house to people from another country. That’s all.”
“And you just happened to think of Africa!” Herbie said, accusingly.
“Look, Winnie explained. “Iggie’s father travels all over the world and he has friends in lots of different countries… and that’s all I meant.” She hesitated before asking, “Where are you from anyway?”
“Detroit,” Glenn said. “Did you ever hear of Detroit?”
I’m pretty sure a lot of people of color get this question hurled at them a lot. Isn’t that right, Asian people? And of course, it’s understandable that the Garbers, especially Herbie, would not like being accused of being from Africa by some white girl. But why on earth did Winnie ask that? She wasn’t trying to be racist on purpose, and Iggie’s family did know a lot of people from around the world. Iggie’s family moved to Tokyo before the story begins. So what was up with the question? My theory is that, since Winnie didn’t really know any people of color, she really did think the Garbers were foreigners. And she was probably so excited about them because she had never seen anyone who didn’t look like her before. That’s my theory, anyway.
So, they all go to the park to play some baseball (except for Tina because she’s a girl, and girls can’t play baseball). As soon as they get there, Tina asks Winnie-
“Aren’t there any black kids around here?” Tina asked.
“Oh sure there are!” Winnie lied. “Just not today.” She didn’t know how she was going to get out of that one because when school started they’d find out the truth. But school was still two weeks away.
The Garbers must’ve known they were living in a white-majority neighborhood, so it’s a good reason why Tina asks that question. So, why would Winnie lie like that? Maybe she doesn’t want the Garbers to realize that her neighborhood may be a little more racist than she thought, though that may be a bit far-fetched for me. And this question does get brought up again later on in the book with Herbie’s response.
“Where are they?” Tina asked.
“Where are what?” Winnie answered.
“The black people.”
Oh no! Tina was going to start that again! Winnie thought. “They aren’t here today,” Winnie told her. Why did Tina have to go and spoil things? Just when everything was going great!
“That’s what you said the last time,” Tina said.
“Tina, you dope!” Herbie shook his sister by the shoulders. “Don’t you know by now? There just aren’t any black people around here!”
“That’s not true!” Winnie said. “There are some. And anyway, what’s the difference?”
“The difference is…” Herbie let go of Tina and faced Winnie. “How would you like it if you lived in a place where everybody was black?”
“I don’t know.”
Come off it, Winnie!” Herbie looked around and lowered his voice. “You know all right. You know!”
This is a good point Herbie makes. How would Winnie feel if she lived in a place where everybody was black? How would she feel if there were no people who looked like her living in her neighborhood? How would you feel if there were no people who looked like you living in your neighborhood? You would feel like a fish out of water, wouldn’t you? I probably would.
Actually, Herbie makes a lot of good points about being black in a white-majority neighborhood and Winnie’s own white privilege. Yes, she means well, but does she really understand what the Garbers have been going through? Here’s an example of what I’m talking about.
“Your father’s not mad?” Winnie asked.
“Mad!” Glenn slammed the cabinet door. “This is more than just getting mad. I don’t think you understand.”
Understand? What did he think anyway? Hadn’t she been understanding right from the start. Wasn’t she the one who wanted to be a good neighbor!
She heard somebody run down the stairs and tear through the hallway into the kitchen. It was Herbie. He looked awful. His eyes were red and swollen. He had a blue terry bathrobe wrapped around him. He was barefoot. Winnie hoped he wasn’t going to throw up again. That was something she couldn’t stand.
“Oh… it’s you!” Herbie looked at her, then turned away.
“Come off it, Herbie,” Glenn said. “There’s no point in taking it out on Winnie.”
“Good old Winnie! Herbie slapped her on the back and made her cough. “Miss Do-Gooder Herself!”
Who did he think he was? Here she was trying to help… trying to do her best for them and this is where it got her. “Do you have to be so nasty all the time?” she asked Herbie. “What’d I ever do to you?”
Herbie dropped to his knees, pretending to pray. “Lord… oh Lord! Thank you Lord for sending the Garber family this Do-Gooder, Winifred. Now that she’s discovered us, she’s going to save us, Lord. All by herself! And after we’re gone, Lord… then she’ll be able to tell everyone how she’s had black friends. Now isn’t that wonderful! I ask you Lord… isn’t that just too…”
Winnie jumped to her feet. “SHUT UP!” she yelled. “Just shut up.” She smacked Herbie across the face, as hard as she could. “YOU CREEP!” she screamed. “You rotten, lousy creep!”
Herbie grabbed her by the arm. “Shut up yourself!” he hollered back.
Glenn stepped between Herbie and Winnie, forcing them apart. “Cut it out… both of you!”
“You know what I think, Herbie Garber,” Winnie cried. “I think you’re as bad as Mrs. Landon. I used to think you picked on me ’cause I’m a girl. But I just found out the truth. You hate everybody who’s white! I feel sorry for you!” She stormed out of the kitchen before the tears came. They tasted hot and salty.
Glenn caught her at the front door. Hey, take it easy Winnie.”
“Easy? Ha! Did I start it? Did I?”
“Look, all Herbie means is he doesn’t think you’d be so interested in us if we weren’t black. He doesn’t want to be used by somebody who thinks it’s groovy to have black friends.”
“Doesn’t want to be used! Well, I don’t know what that’s supposed to mean! I just don’t seem to understand anything anymore!” She was crying hard now and she didn’t care who knew it.
She ran home sobbing. Whatever made her think they were so special. They were just ordinary. That’s all! Plain, old ordinary! And no matter how much she wanted to be friends… no matter how hard she tried… that Herbie Garber was hard to take! He was more than hard to take… he was IMPOSSIBLE.
This is a pretty good point to take when it comes to white privilege and white ignorance. Yes, Winnie has good intentions, but would she have been as interested in the Garbers if they had been white instead of black? My guess is no. Again, Winnie didn’t know many people of color before she met the Garbers, so if they had been white, she probably would’ve assumed they were gonna be just like her… just like all the other white people in her neighborhood. I can see why Herbie would be skeptical about Winnie being friends with them because he doesn’t want to be used as a prop by some white savior, and that’s kind of how Winnie has been with them up to that point. Really, she was just like Mrs. Landon, the antagonist. Don’t know who Mrs. Landon is? Well, here’s why I call her the antagonist.
“Well, did you tell them, Winifred?” Mrs. Landon asked, turning on the smile.
“Tell us what?” Mrs. Barringer looked at Winnie.
“I don’t know Mom,” Winnie said.
“What you were doing at the pool!” Mrs. Landon said sharply.
Mr. and Mrs. Barringer looked at their daughter.
Winnie said nothing.
“Well, if you don’t tell them, I will! About your questionnaire,” Mrs. Landon said.
“Oh that!” Winnie said weakly. “No, I didn’t tell them about it. Not yet.”
“Will somebody please tell me what is going on around here!” Mrs. Barringer demanded.
“I guess I’ll have to be the one to tell you,” Mrs. Landon began, before Winnie had a chance to say a word. “Your daughter- this child standing right here-” she stood up and started to tap Winnie on the head with her handbag but Winnie ducked and moved away. “Your daughter brought a questionnaire to the pool today. And… and… she asked me to fill it out. Can you imagine!” Winnie had the feeling that Mrs. Landon was about to explode.
“What kind of questionnaire, Winnie?” Mr. Barringer asked.
“Wait a second and I’ll get it Dad,” Winnie said, dashing up the stairs.
She took the paper carefully out of her red pocketbook and smoothed it out. It had only one signature on it. Mr. Berger’s. She carried it downstairs and presented it to her father, glancing sideways at Germs, Incorporated. She really wanted to stick out her tongue but her parents were watching.
Winnie’s dad read the questionnaire, smiled and handed it to his wife. She read it and put it down on the coffee table, but did not smile.
“Well, she’s not your child, Dorothy,” Mr. Barringer said firmly, “and we don’t need any help or advice in her handling her. As for this questionnaire… I don’t see any difference between it and your petition. Except of course you represent different opinions. But Winnie is as much entitled to an opinion as you are.”
Winnie could hardly believe her ears. He was on her side! Her father was on her side! He didn’t like Mrs. Landon any more than she did!
“Well… well…” Mrs. Landon fumed, her face turning purple. “I have news for you, Paul Barringer, that may make you change your mind. It just so happens that late this afternoon we had a real estate representative pay us a visit. He’s going to do us a favor and buy our house. Of course we won’t get as much as we should- because of THEM- but we feel fortunate in being able to get rid of it at any price. Now this gentleman is going to be calling on all of Grove Street very soon, offering to buy your homes quickly, while there still time. And if you’re smart you’ll sell fast. Just as we did. Sell fast and get out of this neighborhood before it’s too late! Before they take over!”
In case you’re wondering, yes, Mrs. Landon did make a petition telling the Garbers to move out of the neighborhood. Yes, Mrs. Landon hates black people. So, what makes Winnie and Mrs. Landon alike? They both have causes they strongly stand for. Winnie thinks the Garbers should be allowed to stay in the neighborhood and hang out with the other white people while Mrs. Landon wants the Garbers to move so that the neighborhood can stay white.
And what about the other neighbors? What about Winnie’s parents and Mrs. Landon’s daughter Clarice? Unfortunately, they’re nowhere near as involved in this as hoped, especially Winnie’s parents.
“So that’s why Iggie’s family was so secretive about who bought their house. They didn’t want any trouble around here before they moved away,” Dad said.
“Some news, isn’t it?” Mom asked, sarcastically. “Colored people on Grove Street!”
Winnie had heard enough. She ran upstairs and into her room, slamming the door behind her. She flopped down on the bed, then rolled over and stared up at the ceiling. Her parents never discussed important things with her. Anyway, there were no Negro families in their end of town. And only a very few in the other end. So her folks had nothing to say on the subject. Besides, they liked to pretend everyone was just like they were. But Winnie read the papers and she had seen plenty on T.V. And just last spring her teacher had assigned the whole class to do a paper on “What I Can Do to Improve Racial Relationships.” That was pretty funny, she had said to Iggie’s family. What could she possibly do when she hardly knew anybody of another race?
That night, after dinner, Winnie and her parents settled down in the den, in front of the T.V. After a while, Mr. Barringer put down the sports magazine he was reading and said, “We thought you’d want to know we’re not moving.”
“We’re not?” Winnie asked. She had been so sure her mother would get her own way.
“No. We decided this afternoon,” her father said.
“Great!” Winnie jumped off the couch. “Then maybe we can have the Garbers over for dinner or something.”
Mrs. Barringer put down the dress she was working on. It was Winnie’s last year’s plaid cotton and the hem had to be let down. “Now look Winnie… just because we aren’t moving away right now doesn’t mean that we’re going to be best friends with the Garbers. After all, Iggie’s family lived in that house for three years and Daddy and I never saw them socially.”
“Oh.” Winnie pushed her hair away from her face. “I thought you changed your mind.”
Mrs. Barringer threaded her needle. “Changed my mind about what?”
“Well, we’re not moving so I thought you changed your mind about… you know…”
“Moving is just too much trouble,” Mrs. Barringer sighed. She put the thread in her mouth and bit it off.
So, Winnie wouldn’t be going to Tokyo after all! She was half disappointed. All those plans… down the drain. But if they weren’t moving there wasn’t any reason to run away! Winnie watched her mother sew the new hem. Then she looked at her father. He had fallen asleep in his chair. His mouth was half open and he was snoring. Winnie looked back at her mother… then back at her father… they didn’t even notice.
They just don’t care, Winnie thought. They don’t care enough one way or the other… about anything! Too much trouble… that’s what her mother said. It was too much trouble! They really took the easy way out.
I can make the argument that Winnie’s parents are grown adults with a child and occupations, so that means they’re probably too tired to think a whole lot about politics and human rights. But my mother used to work at the water department where I’m from, and she still cares about politics and human rights. And Winnie’s only eleven years old, and look how much she cares! And Mrs. Landon, too! In fact, Mrs. Landon cares so much about her beliefs that she enforces them on her own daughter Clarice!
“Who’s that?” Tina asked. “She’s pretty.”
Winnie whispered. “That’s Clarice Landon and she’s awful. So’s her mother. I can’t stand them.”
Winnie was used to the way Clarice looked all right. Only she didn’t call it pretty. Immaculate! Mrs. Barringer said. Naturally Clarice was always a big hit with mothers and teachers, in her starched dresses and ribbonded hair. Yick!
Winnie started to pull the wagon again, but before she got past the Landon’s house Clarice put down her paper dolls and skipped down the front walk.
“Hi, Winnie.”
Winnie muttered, “Hi, Clarice. This is Glenn, Herbie and Tina. They just moved into Iggie’s house.”
“I know,” Clarice said. “I know all about them from my mother.” She grinned sheepishly at Winnie while stealing a glance at the Garbers.
Winnie couldn’t help making a face at the mention of Mrs. Landon. There was something about that woman… something underneath the soft voice and sweet smile. Maybe it was that all the grownups on the block thought she was the greatest… including the Barringers! Winnie had heard her father say dozens of times: “Dorothy Landon is a sensible woman. She has a real had on her shoulders.” And Mrs. Barringer agreed. “I don’t know how she does it! All those meetings and still the best housekeeper I know.” Yick! No matter what her parents thought, Winnie knew for sure that Mrs. Landon was an old busybody. Just last month her mother forced her to go to Clarice’s birthday party (and in a new dress too!) Mrs. Landon had flashed her phony smile and said, “What a perfectly lovely dress, Winifred. It looks so expensive. Was it?” Now that was plain old “nosey.” And there was that rainy day when Mrs. Landon had driven her home from the bus stop. “I saw so many cars at your house Saturday night, Winifred. Did you parents have a party?” And when Winnie told her, yes, they had, Mrs. Landon said, “How nice! Anyone there I know?” Well, that was “nosey” too! Even if Winnie’s mom thought Mrs. Landon was just being sociable and making conversation. Winnie knew better. And Mr. Landon! He was always saying: “Yes dear. Of course dear. Whatever you say dear.” Yick! It was sickening. Princess Clarice was supposed to be on the lookout for germs all the time. She wasn’t supposed to eat or drink anything at other people’s houses. Oh, Winnie knew all about them all right! Little Miss Germ-Head and her mother, Germs, Incorporated!
But did Tina take her advice? No! She went right on talking to Clarice. “Want to come over to play?” Tina asked.
Clarice answered so softly no one understood her.
Tina continued. “It doesn’t have to be today. How ‘bout tomorrow?”
This time there was no mistaking Little Miss Germ-Head’s reply. “My mother says I can’t play with any colored kids.” Clarice ran back up the front walk, to her rocking chair and paper dolls.
Winnie felt sick. How could anybody say a thing like that?
Well, we all know where Clarice learned that behavior from. Mrs. Dorothy Landon herself, aka Germs, Incorporated. Sadly, a lot of children learn bad ideologies from their parents; racism is no exception. I know I’ve learned a lot of toxic things from my parents. And sadly, a lot of those children end up parroting what their parents have said right into adulthood even though they never really knew better as children.
Winnie groaned, as she turned toward the voice. Mrs. Landon and Clarice. Yick! Winnie heard that they recently joined the pool. “I can’t stand her,” Winnie confessed to Mr. Berger. “And that itsy-bitsy precious-wecious little princess of hers!”
“I can understand how you feel about Mrs. Landon, Winnie. But try not to take it out on Clarice. It isn’t easy to go through life with a mother like that. Why don’t you talk to Clarice? Giver her another point of view. The way Iggie did for you.”
“I can’t Mr. Berger. I just can’t!” Winnie insisted.
“Well, think about it Winnie. I’ve got to give a lesson now. Keep your chin up!” Winnie nodded and watched Mr. Berger walk away.
She folded her questionnaire and tucked it into her pocketbook. Mr. Berger was right… you can’t expect people to answer a question like that with a simple check mark. There had to be another way.
Clarice was floating inside a tube. She twirled around and around but didn’t get her face wet. At that moment Winnie felt sorry for her. Having a mother like Germs, Inc. was pretty bad. Mr. Berger was right. It really wasn’t Clarice’s fault that she was the way she was. Maybe when she got older she’d change. Maybe, but probably not, Winnie decided.
Have you ever the quote “The apple doesn’t fall very far from the tree.”? That quote is true in a lot of cases. People who grew up in right-wing homes tend to be right-wing while people who grew up in left-wing homes tend to be left-wing. But that’s not the case all the time! Take Winnie and her parents. Winnie’s a regular activist while her parents don’t really seem to care what’s going on in the world. Maybe it’s not her parents who have influenced her the most but instead Iggie’s parents. After all, Iggie’s parents were world travelers, so they’ve probably met people from various backgrounds. And I think that’s a good way of learning about other people. Listening and trying to understand where others are coming from.
So, yeah. This is my more-than-4000-words essay on why a children’s book published in 1970 still holds up to today’s standards when comes to talking about racism against black people. If I have to give this book a rating like a traditional book review, I would give Iggie’s House a 10/10. It’s that good, and it’s worth a good read.
