Otherwise Known as Sheila the Great

“The more I talked about it the better it sounded. Spending the summer in the country. Spending the summer in Tarrytown. Spending the summer in a house. Spending the summer in my own beautiful bedroom!”

As lifelong New Yorkers, Sheila and her family are accustomed to small living spaces and not having much room to spread out, so when Sheila’s father tells her she will have her own room for the summer, she is delighted; the use of anaphora with the phrase “Spending the summer” conveys her exuberance and sense of anticipation. However, the room she dreams up in her head is nothing like the room she finds in Tarrytown. The situation creates a basic form of irony in which expectations clash with reality.

“How could they do this to me? Their own child. Their younger daughter. Didn’t they understand? Didn’t they care?”

This passage depicts Sheila’s outrage after she discovers the Egrans’ dog in Tarrytown. When she wonders how “they” could “do this to [her],” “they” are her parents, who knew about Jennifer before they arrived but withheld the information because they knew Sheila would have refused to make the trip otherwise. While her dismay is natural, this passage hints at Sheila’s sense of entitlement—she emphasizes the importance of being “their younger daughter,” as though that role deserves more care or respect than an older daughter.

“I heard this really scary noise […] I thought about what it might be—a ghost, or a vampire, or even an ordinary monster.”

Sheila prides herself on being sensible. However, much like Ichabod Crane, she is prone to getting carried away with her feelings, especially as she lies in the darkness of her room. This quotation highlights Sheila’s active imagination and shows how, in her case, such imagination is both a gift and a curse. Judy Blume adds a touch of humor with the oxymoron “ordinary monster,” a contradiction in terms that reveals Sheila’s timid and fanciful disposition: The word “ordinary” suggests monsters are an entirely plausible, run-of-the-mill reality.

“If you don’t like Sheila you should call yourself something else.”

Mouse decided to change her name because she didn’t like it. Sheila complains she would like to have a different name too, and at Mouse’s suggestion, she starts to experiment with new names. Eventually, she adopts the epithet “Sheila the Great” in her newspaper publication. The nickname has multifaceted significance. “Great” indicates Sheila’s desire for superiority, but it also suggests her desire for bravery: Sheila Tubman might be cowardly, but Sheila the Great isn’t afraid of anyone or anything.

“Ootch says he likes you, Sunny Sheila. He can always tell a person who really and truly loves dogs.”

Mouse’s little sister Betsy has an imaginary dog named Ootch, and she tells Sheila that Ootch likes her because Sheila obviously loves dogs. Sheila doesn’t correct Betsy, but she smiles. This scene presents more irony, but it also foreshadows how Sheila will change her perspective toward dogs by the end of the novel.

“Daddy and I try very hard to be understanding. We don’t force you to go near Jennifer. We know how you feel about spiders, and when you hear noises in the middle of the night we try to find out what’s causing them.”

Although Sheila’s parents have patience with her fears, her mother explains they are only human, and they have their limits. They don’t push Sheila to get over her fears unless they deem it necessary, and in this case, learning to swim is necessary for Sheila’s safety. This is the beginning of Sheila’s character growth, in which she will learn that facing her fears is an essential part of life, especially when those fears impact others or cause endangerment.

“I am not afraid of anything!”

Sheila’s fears are obvious to others, but this doesn’t stop her from trying to hide them. When Sheila arrives at the Tarrytown pool, she tells Marty she’s not afraid of putting her face in the water or learning to swim—she just doesn’t want to do it. Sheila’s hyperbole—her exaggeration that she’s “not afraid of anything”—makes it even more obvious that her statement is false. Fear is a universal experience, so such a wholesale denial is patently absurd.

“I wondered if maybe Marty could teach me to swim like that […] People from all over would come to watch me on Sundays. And Marty would tell them, She’s remarkable… she couldn’t swim at all when she came here.”

Betsy is fearless at only four years old, and she manages a perfect dive into the pool. Betsy inspires Sheila, but even as she daydreams about a future where she is a champion swimmer and diver like Betsy, Sheila insists she still won’t put her face in the water. Sheila finds herself torn between what she wants to be and who she is, and her fear keeps her from accomplishing anything she puts her mind to.

“If a person doesn’t know how to do something a person should just admit it, don’t you think?”

Mouse is a gracious friend, and she never makes fun of Sheila for being afraid of dogs or not knowing how to swim. However, while Mouse wants to become good friends with Sheila, Mouse values honesty, and Sheila values her pride too much to be honest. Mouse is a foil to Sheila in matters not only of courage but also of tact: Instead of directly exposing Sheila’s lie and shaming her, Mouse gives her a chance to fix things. Sheila does not show this kind of consideration to her friends. Mouse has much to teach Sheila about friendship.

“You people in Tarrytown have a lot of useless information. If this Ichabod Crane was so important, I’d have heard about him in New York.”

When Sheila is embarrassed, her automatic reaction is to lash out and insult people. As Mouse tells her about Ichabod Crane and “The Legend of Sleepy Hollow,” Sheila is embarrassed she knows nothing about this famous story, so she says it must be “useless information.” However, as Mouse explains, everyone in Tarrytown knows about the story because it put Tarrytown on the map in the world of American literature. When Sheila dismisses Irving’s short story, her words are comical in their inaccuracy; she says the story is trivial, yet she soon becomes swept away by her fear of one of the story’s characters—the Headless Horseman. Irving’s story is, in fact, important to Sheila whether she likes it or not, as it significantly impacts her reality.

“I was the only one who knew just which medicine to put on each of Sondra’s wounds. So I was really the main doctor and the others were my assistants.”

When Sondra’s legs get rope-burned during the mission to get into Mouse’s locked house, the girls surround her and try to dress her wounds with first aid supplies. The moment represents the problem with the protagonist’s interpersonal attitudes: Although this moment could be an opportunity for teamwork and friendship, Sheila bosses the other girls around, and because she is desperate to feel superior, she keeps the focus on herself instead of on Sondra. Sheila’s version of friendship often accomplishes the opposite of what she wants; instead of bringing others closer and winning their esteem, it distances and exasperates them.

“I had the greatest idea of how to show the Tarrytown kids that I was an expert at something besides bandaging legs.”

When Sheila gets the idea to create the first-ever camp newspaper, she thinks she will finally be able to win others’ admiration. Since her arrival in Tarrytown, Sheila has felt self-conscious about her inability to swim, her fear of dogs, and her lack of knowledge when it comes to yo-yos and the local lore. Instead of enjoying her time in Tarrytown and taking it as a learning experience, she fixates on all the things she can’t do. Her newspaper is meant to be an ego project: something she does not because she loves it, but because she wants to prove a point about her abilities.

“It’s my idea and I’m doing everything!”

Sheila is so determined to take credit for the newspaper that she turns down Mouse’s offer to help. While Mouse simply wants to team up with her new friend to tackle a new challenge together, Sheila sees her offer as a threat; Mouse is already better than her at yo-yoing and swimming, and Sheila doesn’t want to give Mouse the chance to do a better job of running the newspaper, too. Sheila’s diction reflects a key part of her personality, as her emphasis on “my” and “I’m” symbolically underscores her unhealthy focus on herself.

“The little spoiled brat isn’t going to get her own way this time! […] This time the spoiled brat is going to have to learn that I count too. I am also a member of this family.”

For years, the Tubmans have catered to Sheila’s demands and avoided things that frighten her because of her tendency to dig her heels in when she is upset. During the fight about the puppy, however, Libby has finally had enough. She is tired of letting Sheila step all over the rest of the family just to keep the peace. This conflict sets the stage for the novel’s resolution, in which Sheila will consider the possibility of adopting a puppy after all.

“[J]ust wait until you’re thirteen. You’ll be as ugly as me if not uglier!”

Although Sheila claims Libby “thinks she’s the greatest,” Chapter 11 shows a more vulnerable side of Libby. Libby struggles with negative self-image, and she complains she is so ugly she can’t stand the sight of herself. She is so hurt and angry that she lashes out at Sheila and says she’ll be ugly when she’s older, because the girls look alike. However, as their mother explains, ugliness and beauty all have to do with how a person feels about themselves. Sheila realizes that if she can make herself feel brave and confident on the inside, maybe she will be brave and confident on the outside too.

“Libby looked over at me once and made a terrible face, but Maryann needed me. What else could I do?”

During the camp’s production of Peter Pan, the actress playing Wendy freezes on stage. Since Sheila is close to Maryann and knows the right lines, she decides to help and say all of Wendy’s lines. Libby is furious because all she wanted was to be Wendy, but Libby is on stage in her Captain Hook costume, so she can’t help Maryann. Sheila may be controlling, but she isn’t trying to steal the show, upstage Libby, or even become Wendy. She just wants to help.

“You’ve finally admitted it…you’re scared. That’s the first step in the right direction.”

After spending almost the entire summer refusing to admit she is afraid of putting her face in the water, Sheila finally confesses the truth to Marty, who congratulates her for being honest. Marty doesn’t tell Sheila not to be afraid; he treats her fear as a perfectly normal obstacle to overcome instead of dismiss. Because of Marty’s patience and guidance, Sheila can finally bring herself to put her face in the water, blow bubbles, and take a few “step[s] in the right direction.”

“I figured I would tell Mouse that the reason I didn’t know about Slam Books is that I haven’t made one in years because where I live that is just for babies.”

Once again, Sheila finds herself faced with a game she knows nothing about. Instead of coming with a spirit of curiosity and friendship, she still tries to dismiss the game as “babyish” or unimportant. Sheila hates it when Libby calls her a baby, and yet she uses this same language toward the people she claims to be friends with. If Sheila can’t be the best and brightest, she tries to dim the lights of those around her.

“I was the one who wrote about Mouse’s scabs. But I never thought it would bother her so much.”

During the Slam Book activity, Sheila fixates on Mouse’s imperfections: her unwashed hair, her annoying tendency to do everything well, and the scabs that cover her legs. Sheila believes Mouse is so confident that nothing anyone says can bother her, yet Mouse is hurt by Sheila’s comments. Even Mouse Ellis, the Junior Champion of Tarrytown who isn’t afraid of anything, has something she doesn’t like about herself. No one is perfect, and no one is immune to insecurity or self-consciousness.

“But to be an interesting person! Well, not everyone can be that. That is something special!”

After the Slam Book activity, Sheila learns her friends have strong opinions about her. They make fun of her appearance and call her a cowardly, bossy know-it-all who acts tough. However, her friends seem to like her overall, and Mouse calls her an “interesting person.” Sheila decides being interesting is a good trade-off, and she can handle being a little bossy if it means she knows lots of things other people don’t. While her thought process is still self-centered, her contentment signals a modicum of character growth, as she can tolerate not being “the greatest” at absolutely everything.

“I think I would be better off just staying far, far away from oceans, lakes, pools for the rest of my life.”

Sheila’s parents insist she must learn how to swim so she can save herself if she ever falls into a body of water, but Sheila would prefer to avoid her fears altogether. Even at this late stage in the narrative, Sheila has undergone little transformation. It is not until she thinks of Marty’s wellbeing that she fully embraces courage and completes her swimming lessons, creating a more substantial character arc.

“Marty would probably save me. But if he had to jump in and save me in front of everyone, that would be as bad as drowning. Maybe even worse!”

When the time comes for Sheila to take her swimming test, she contemplates everything that could go wrong. However, this passage reveals the true nature of Sheila’s fear; she may abhor the thought of drowning, but that fear pales in comparison to the terror of embarrassment. As Sheila wrestles with the conflict, the rising action leads to a narrative climax in which the protagonist faces her fears and passes the swimming test.

“Never mind that Mouse and the twins are already working on their Advanced cards. Never mind that Libby is practically a Junior Life Saver. Never mind that I will never dive like Betsy Ellis or stand on my hands under the water. I can swim.”

When Sheila passes her swimming test, she is surrounded by supportive, loving people who are delighted to share in her success. For the first time, Sheila doesn’t worry about being better than anyone—and this change marks her most significant character development yet. She doesn’t care if Libby, Mouse, Jane, Sondra, or even Betsy are better swimmers than she is. All that matters in that moment is that she did it: She faced her fears and emerged from the swimming pool triumphant.