“Likes” by Chinese American author Sarah Shun-lien Bynum is a short story that addresses themes of Overcoming Generational Divisions, Coming of Age and Self-Discovery, and The Power of Non-Verbal Connection. First published in The New Yorker in 2017, it is also the titular story of Bynum’s 2020 short story collection. At the center of the narrative is Dave, the father of an adolescent girl who desperately tries to understand his daughter.

Sarah Shun-lien Bynum is a contemporary, award-winning fiction writer. In addition to two novels and one collection of short stories, Bynum’s work has been featured in The New Yorker, Ploughshares, Tin House, and The Best American Short Stories. Known for her clear prose and her examination of modern life, she is also the recipient of an O. Henry Award and a Whiting Award.

This guide refers to the story as it appears in the hardcover version of Likes, published by Farrar, Straus and Giroux in 2020.

The story is divided into 30 short segments separated by section breaks. Longer sections containing protagonist Dave’s perspective are interspersed with brief vignettes that describe his daughter Ivy’s most recent Instagram posts. It takes place in the contemporary United States during the 2016 election season. It employs a third-person limited point of view, which follows the thoughts and feelings of a father, Dave, as he tries to understand his 11-year-old daughter, Ivy. Dave is referred to as “the father” throughout the story, only named in the last vignette.

The story opens with Dave “looking for clues” in his daughter Ivy’s Instagram posts (179). He describes her posts, all of which contain pink items or backgrounds: pink ice cream dribbling down a cone toward “a disembodied hand,” a “pink neon sign,” a blooming rose, a sunset, a dog on a “peachy” bedspread, and “an earlobe” (179). Dave cannot make sense of these photos and closes his eyes, puts down his phone, and thinks about how hard Ivy is to talk to.

In the next vignette, Dave takes Ivy to her physical therapy appointment, where she is being treated for knee issues and tendonitis. These injuries have interfered with Ivy’s ballet practice. Dave and Ivy are greeted by the physical therapist, a young woman with whom Dave feels uncomfortable but who Ivy “seem[s] to like” (180). Dave sits in the waiting room alone, thinking that Ivy’s silence in the car is different from the chatter he hears behind the closed door.

The section breaks, and Dave clarifies that Ivy isn’t silent in the car, only that she doesn’t talk much with him. She asks questions about images on billboards, sings along to the radio, mouths words muted by the censors, and makes happy sounds about the number of likes on her ice cream photo. He also notes that on other days, she is silent, “eyes brimming and fixed on the dashboard” (180). Last week, she asked if she could be homeschooled.

After the therapy appointment, Dave praises his daughter for being conversational with her physical therapist. Embarrassed, Ivy says, “You’re making me feel like I talk too much!” (181).

Ivy posts “a peeled-off pair of ballet tights splayed on the white tiles of a bathroom floor” on Instagram (181).

Dave attempts to interpret Ivy’s behavior in the car. Sometimes, her quiet demeanor feels “mysterious” to him; other days, it feels tense. One day, he asks what’s wrong and Ivy asks him if she can curse. Dave acquiesces, but she simply says that she doesn’t have any friends. Dave tries to argue, and Ivy counters that he can’t make her feel better.

On Instagram, Ivy posts a hamburger that is pink on the inside.

At home, Dave looks at the page of exercises provided by the physical therapist and asks his daughter if she can decipher them. She responds affirmatively without looking up from the phone. He puts the sheet on the fridge, noting that there’s nothing else up there since school assignments are all digital now. He tries to converse with her, but she is not paying attention. He feels “[m]arooned on one side of the island” (183). 

A few days later, Dave and his wife, Dorothy, order takeout so they can all watch the presidential debate, which also happens to be Ivy’s homework. Ivy watches for a bit before running up the stairs, telling her parents that it is “making [her] uncomfortable” (184). Dave looks to Dorothy for commiseration, but she is engrossed in the debate.

In a new vignette, Dave considers the items that his daughter values: her pens and pencils, her highlighters, and her sparkly school supplies. He watches her do her homework and realizes that if they were the same age, she would have intimidated him. He reminisces about his own adolescence—his parents called him “Heathcliff,” and he once sprained his ankle playing basketball. He can’t recall many specific memories, but he remembers the full names of his classmates, some of their faces coming to mind “like mug shots” (186).

Ivy posts “a pair of lips, shining wetly” (186).

Ivy auditions for a role in The Nutcracker. Dorothy tells Dave “not to internalize” (186). Afterward, Ivy refuses their offer to go to lunch or Starbucks, quietly saying she’d prefer to go home and watch YouTube.

Back at home, Dave overhears a video of an influencer talking about decorating with items from HomeGoods. This section is conveyed entirely as the influencer’s video dialogue, where she uses exaggerated language to describe throw pillows (repeating “amazing”) and her shopping experience.

Later that evening, Dave does the dishes as Ivy becomes animated, practicing her jazz steps and watching her reflection in the sliding doors. Dave dodges her kicks and wonders why she doesn’t practice with her less flexible side. She sings a made-up song: “I am the best, she sang tunelessly, the best, the best, the best. You can’t beat me, no you can’t, so don’t even try, because I am the best” (187).

A few days later, the physical therapist asks Dave if Ivy has been keeping up with exercises at home. He assumes this means his daughter is not improving and that she won’t get a part in the ballet. He says that he’s been reminding her but doesn’t know if she is, then “sulkily” remarks, “Maybe you should ask her” (188).

In another vignette, Dave drives Ivy home after a bad day at school. When Ivy asks him if she cries too much, Dave responds with a series of questions: “Who told you that?”; “Who said that bullshit to you”; “When did it become a crime to feel things?” (188). After Ivy says she wishes she didn’t tell him, Dave immediately begins blaming himself for being late. He assumes that the insult to his daughter must have happened when he wasn’t there to protect her. He imagines the family escaping, loading the car with groceries, grabbing Dorothy, and heading out, just the three of them. He realizes he’s envisioning them as “refugees from a zombie apocalypse” rather than on vacation (188).

Ivy posts a pink cupcake decorated like a pig on Instagram.

In late October, Ivy experiences “a stretch of sunshine” (189). Ivy is cast in The Nutcracker and comes home from rehearsals in good spirits. She’s invited to a party, a sleepover, and an outing to the mall. Watching her leave, Dave waves at the neighbors and makes small talk. He finds his wife and enthusiastically hugs her from behind, knocking her over.

On Election Day, Dave and Ivy arrive at the physical therapist’s office. Dave notices the voting sticker on the therapist’s blouse and points to the one on his chest before giving her a thumbs-up. She returns his enthusiasm, and he feels optimistic and hopeful for humanity. He vows to make sure that Ivy does her exercises every night so she can get better.

Ivy posts “a black square. Not a photo of a black square but a photo of total blackness. As if the camera had misfired, or the film had been accidentally exposed” (191).

The morning after the election, Dave, Dorothy, and Ivy are all upset about the results. Ivy asks if she has to go to school. Dave tells her no and goes back to sleep. He imagines other times in his life when he used denial to cope with bad news and is surprised when Ivy returns fully dressed and ready to go. He asks her why she isn’t in bed, and she tells him that she thought he was joking.

Another morning, Dave is backing out of the driveway when he notices that Ivy, who collects inspirational quotes, has taken a wooden plaque from above her bed and placed it on his dashboard. It reads, “Life is always offered a second chance. It’s called tomorrow” (193). He is annoyed by the poor syntax and is surprised to find the sign was made in the US. He tells himself that he needs to remind Ivy to take it back to her room.

The scene changes, and Dave is lying in bed with Dorothy while she tries to figure out how Snapchat works. When she realizes that the messages disappear after a few seconds, she becomes concerned and engrossed in examining Ivy’s online presence. Dave puts on an eye mask and tries to go back to sleep, but Dorothy’s clicking seems impossibly loud.

The following morning, Dorothy confronts Dave about subscribing to several new magazines and newspapers. He tells her that he is trying to model good information-seeking behavior for Ivy. Dorothy is receptive to this idea, though she wishes he had opted for digital subscriptions.

Ivy posts a Pink Drink on Instagram, which Dave describes as “a hand holding a clear plastic Starbucks cup filled with liquid the color of Pepto Bismol. In it floated chunks of something red” (193).

Regarding the Pink Drink, Dorothy asks if it’s a caffeinated drink. She examines Ivy’s Instagram feed and proudly comments on her consistent use of the same color palette. By contrast, Dave sees this pink color scheme as “depressingly cliched,” noting that Ivy’s posts are similar to other girls’.

In another vignette, Dave and Ivy are in the car, and Ivy is talking about her favorite YouTuber, who she thinks is honest. The influencer is writing a YA book, and Ivy asks if she can buy it. She can see her father’s distaste and argues that it’s reading, while he quietly seethes about the influencer’s shallow vocabulary: “AMAZING […] EXCITED […] SO GRATEFUL” (198). He is so absorbed in his mental dialogue that he gets into a car accident.

On Instagram, Ivy posts “a bared collarbone with a seat-belt burn running diagonally across it. The welt shiny with ointment, and pink” (199).

Dave and Dorothy attend The Nutcracker. Ivy’s physical therapist is also there with an orchid for Ivy. She calls Dave by name, introduces herself to Dorothy, and compliments Ivy’s performance. Dave is skeptical about how she could identify Ivy from her position in the back, and she reminds Dave that she knows Ivy’s legs after working with her for so long. He is touched by her devotion to Ivy and is happy that she remembers his name.

In the final vignette, Dave pulls into the driveway after work on a Friday night. He sees Ivy sitting at the dining room table, framed by the window, happily making Christmas cards with her earbuds in. She sees Dave and “hurl[s] herself against the picture window” (201), contorting her body into a funny posture. At first, Dave wonders what she’s doing, and he marvels that her pose expresses exactly how he’s been feeling since the election. He places his palm against hers through the glass, then tries to place his whole body in a mirror image of hers. Balancing on one foot is difficult for him, and as he sways, Ivy laughs, the whole window shaking.