How we cite our quotes: (Section.Chapter.Paragraph)
Quote #1
"I wish I could go to school," said Sal.
"You will," said Papa. "Soon enough."
"I wish I could go now," said Sal.
"I wish you could go for me," said Billy.
"Go, go, go," said Papa. "Everybody go."
And they—Billy, Papa, Sal, and the Drop Sisters—were off to Georgia O'Keeffe Elementary School in Constant, Wisconsin. (1.2.9-14)
When it comes to family, the Millers are a close-knit bunch. Did you notice how there are even some stuffed animals thrown into the mix? Yep, even Sal's plush pets, the Drop Sisters, get to be part of the fam. Now that's one inclusive family unit. Plus, Sal loves her big brother so much that she even wants to go to school just like him. Right off the bat, we know that this family knows how to stick together.
Quote #2
"Hi, Lumpy," Ned said to Billy. He laughed. "Hi, Papa." He ignored Sal. […]
"Don't call him Papa," said Sal. "He's not your papa. You should call him Cliff."
Ned paid no attention to Sal.
Ned always called Billy's father Papa. Billy thought this was funny, but it bothered Sal. Ned called his own father Dad; everyone Billy knew called their own fathers Dad. When he was little, Ned had thought that Papa was a name like Billy or Cliff or Sal. (1.2.16, 18-20)
Ned has a unique relationship with Billy's dad. Instead of calling him by his first or last name, Ned calls Mr. Miller "Papa" just like Billy and Sal. Do you think this makes Mr. Miller part of Ned's family? How so? Is it the name that makes the family, or is it something else?
Quote #3
Mama entered the kitchen. "What's going on in here?" she asked. She tucked her red marking pencil behind her ear, which made Billy think of Ms. Silver's chopsticks.
Papa whisked past Mama, tapping her on the shoulder. "Tag team," he said. "Your turn." He disappeared out the back door. (2.2.43-44)
Mama and Papa Miller really know how to look out for one another—these parents are quite the duo and they know just how to show the other some support. Take a look at how Mama steps in for Papa when he's frustrated with all the diorama-making. Cleaning up might not be the most fun task in the world, but she's ready to "tag team" it so that she can help out her hubby. And that's seriously sweet. In what other ways do you see Billy's parents acting as a team?
Quote #4
"I was just giving you fairies," said Sal.
The urge to hit or pinch Sal was overwhelming. With laser eyes, Billy stared right through his sister. Underneath Sal's dense, dark curls clipped with a panda barrette and her lacy pastel nightgown, Billy saw the enemy. Why couldn't he have had a brother instead? (2.3.44-45)
Watch out folks, Billy has entered the dark side. When Sal sprinkles glitter into his diorama, our main man starts to see red and then some. Sure, Sal might not look like a typical villain with her nightgown and a panda clip in her hair, but Billy has her pegged as Enemy Number One. In fact, appearances don't matter to him one bit—it's all about her actions and they've put her in the dog house.
Quote #5
They worked in unison like one big machine. Papa scooped up Sal, secured her in her car seat, put the diorama in the front seat next to him, waited for Billy to get in the back next to Sal and buckle his seat belt, and started off to school. (2.3.72)
This family sure knows how to work together, so it's no surprise that they work as a unit to get Billy to school on time with diorama in hand. What do you think of the "machine" metaphor? How is this family like a machine? And is that a positive thing?
Quote #6
Billy Miller hated his sister. At least, right now he did. Sal was crying—wailing, really—so loudly that Billy had gone to his room, shut the door, flung himself on his bed, and buried his head under his pillow. The crying continued and Billy could not escape it. (3.1.1)
Siblings can be the worst—the absolute worst—and when Sal is crying like there's no tomorrow, Billy has just about had it. In fact, the narrator uses a pretty strong word to talk about how Billy feels towards his little sis: "hate." What do you think of this word? In what ways does Billy's hate change his relationship with his sis? Are there any ways in which his temporary hate turns out to be a good thing in the end?
Quote #7
Sal's night-light was so bright that the yellow walls in her room glowed like the inside of a jack-o'-lantern and had an instant calming effect on Billy. The only visible part of Sal among her pillows, the Drop Sisters, and her messy blanket was her snarl of dark curls, but it was a familiar snarl and Billy's heart slowed down; his breathing steadied. (3.4.1)
Billy has been mad at his sister a lot, but sometimes she can also be the best. Did you notice that she doesn't even have to do anything here to calm Billy down? After he's freaked himself out by imagining a monster under his bed, Billy goes in search of Sal and just seeing her makes him feel way better. Aw.
Quote #8
He hoped that Mama and Papa did go away overnight again for a long time. When they were both gone, the air in the house was harder to breathe, somehow. (3.5.40)
When Billy's parents drive to Chicago for the night, he and Sal are bumming hard. Sal chooses to cry her way through the early evening, but Billy lets us know he misses his parents in a totally different way: by saying that it's harder to breathe when his parents are gone. Pretty powerful description, right?
Quote #9
"The poem can be about a parent or a brother or a sister or a grandma or an uncle or someone who helps your family like a good friend, because all families are different." Billy took a breath. (4.1.15)
When Billy has to pick a family member to write his poem about, he's got quite a few people to choose from. Plus, Ms. Silver says that family is actually a pretty flexible term, because every family has its own distinct look. So that means Billy has even more to think about when choosing his special family member. How do you think the Millers are different from other families? And how are they the same?
Quote #10
He scanned the crowd for Mama, and he saw her instantly. She was right at the foot of the stage. Their eyes connected, and he knew that she'd been watching him. She'd heard him, even without the microphone on. She was smiling and nodding.
Explosions like little volcanoes were going off inside him. He felt wonderful. Maybe he'd never felt better. (4.5.72-75)
By the time we reach the end of this book, we've seen a lot of special moments between the Miller family members, but this one might just take the cake. After Billy finishes reciting his poem from memory into the silent mic, all he wants is to find Mama. Did you notice how they don't even need to exchange words here? Mama just smiles and nods, and Billy knows how much she loves him.