Small Great Things

Barnes is the baby born with severe birth defects and takes on symbolic meaning in the novel, as a sort of opposite of the concept of original sin. Original sin, in the Christian tradition, is the idea that all humans are born with some measure of sinfulness or imperfection, marred by sin from the moment of birth, rather than being born a perfect being who later might sin. In the case of Ian Michael Barnes, however, Ruth calls him “[t]he most beautiful baby [she] ever saw,” despite being “born without a face” (9). When the baby’s father, horrified by the birth defects, says Barnes was “a monster,” Ruth counters that Barnes is “a baby” (10). She later thinks, “It just goes to show you: every baby is born beautiful. It’s what we project on them that makes them ugly” (11). This represents the idea of redemption that Turk later embodies at the end of the novel. If one is born good, and ugliness is a projection, it stands to reason that one can return to that perfect state.

Making its first appearance early in the novel, the Post-it note that Marie puts on Davis’s file that reads “NO AFRICAN AMERICAN PERSONNEL TO CARE FOR THIS PATIENT” (43) draws significant attention and remains in the background for the rest of the novel. It is first described as “hot-pink” (43), a bright and attention-grabbing color. Pink is also a mixture of white and red, and in color theory, white often represents purity, while red is associated more with impurity or salaciousness (for instance the red A in The Scarlet Letter). This mixture, then, also represents Davis himself as a character with symbolic meanings as well. He is both innocent, beautiful, and blameless, as Ruth first sees him, but also tainted by the hate of his parents. Later, the novel makes this explicit: “It’s as if the little Post-it note on the patient file of Davis Bauer has nicked a vital artery” (114). Unlike the travel mug, which was meant as a symbol of belonging for Ruth, the Post-it note serves as a reminder of her indelible difference as the only African-American nurse in the L and D ward, and thus the only one singled out by the note’s message.

Though this only appears briefly in the text, Ruth’s Yale travel mug takes on significant symbolic weight. Having repeatedly gained access to more white-majority spaces, first going to Dalton and then Yale, Ruth nevertheless still feels the pressure of microaggressions in her life: store owners following her around to discourage shoplifting, or people choosing other seats on public transportation. Ruth buys the mug and consciously turns it to face the aisle so that it is readily readable by people on the train, “so other passengers could read it as they boarded. It was a flag, a sign saying: I am one of you” (174). Belonging is a constant need for Ruth’s character, and this mug becomes the outward symbol of this need. It’s interesting that the novel then sort of leaves this hanging, not mentioning how this may have worked or not for her during her time in nursing school. However, by the events of the novel we can see the fragility of symbols of belonging like this mug, since, despite having jumped through the hoops of white society throughout her life, Ruth still winds up on trial for reasons explicitly tied to something much stronger than a mug: the color of her skin.