“They were hard-edged, soft-centered, brutally demanding, and easily pleased, these women of Brewster Place. They came, they went, grew up, and grew old beyond their years. Like an ebony phoenix, each in her own time and with her own season had a story.”

In the novel’s opening interlude, Naylor establishes the diverse spiritual essence of the women who live in Brewster Place over the years. Her description captures the nuance and depth of experience that the women offer. While they all experience The Impact of Systemic Racism and Sexism, each woman is unique, special, and worthy of being the center of her own story, and with this opening, Naylor implicitly promises to give each woman her due in the overall narrative.

“All the beautiful plants that once had an entire sun porch for themselves in the home she had exchanged thirty years of her life to pay for would now have to fight for light on a crowded windowsill. The sigh turned into a knot of pity for the ones that she knew would die. She pitied them because she refused to pity herself and to think that she, too, would have to die here on this crowded street because there just wasn’t enough life left for her to do it all again.”

Like most of Brewster Place’s tenants, Mattie Michael moves to the apartment block because she is out of options. After her son flees his bail, she loses the home she worked for 30 years to maintain, as well as the son that she dedicated her life to raising. The implication that some of her plants will also die suggests that her loss is not yet complete. However, Mattie’s resilience is evident, even if it is only because she has no other option. Her dream is dead, and she maintains no illusion of building a new one, but she has no choice but to carry on. Ultimately, this inner strength will allow her to become a powerful matriarchal figure in Brewster Place.