Emily

Nineteen-year-old Emily is the narrator's eldest child. Her mother feels a deep sense of regret about Emily's upbringing, lamenting, "She was a child seldom smiled at." Emily's father abandoned the family less than a year after her birth, during the harshest period of the Depression. Struggling to make ends meet, her mother had to leave young Emily with various temporary caregivers. As a child, Emily was often seen as plain—"thin and dark and foreign-looking at a time when every little girl was supposed to look or thought she should look a chubby blonde replica of Shirley Temple"—which caused her to become shy and passive. After her mother remarried, Emily was overshadowed by her younger, more confident half-sister Susan. Surprisingly, Emily has developed a knack for comedic acting—a "deadly clowning"—that has gained her some recognition, but she appears to lack drive. At the story's conclusion, Emily opts to sleep through her exams and remarks that "in a couple of years when we'll all be atom-dead they won't matter a bit." Despite her mother's belief that "all that is in her will not bloom," she holds out hope that Emily will realize "that she is more than this dress on the ironing board, helpless before the iron."

Narrator

The narrator of "I Stand Here Ironing" is not described physically nor mentioned by name. Her identity unfolds through her reflections on her relationship with her eldest daughter, Emily. The narrator has faced significant hardships in her life. She was abandoned by her first husband at the age of nineteen, less than a year after Emily's birth, during the worst of the Depression. Financial struggles meant she had to work long hours, leaving her unable to give Emily the attention she needed. She remarried and had more children, to whom she feels she has been a better mother. She regrets many aspects of how she raised Emily and believes that because of her maternal shortcomings, "all that is in [Emily] will not bloom." Readers have different interpretations of the narrator's final resolution about her daughter—to "let her be." Some perceive this as passive resignation, while others view it more positively, as an acknowledgment of her daughter's independence and ability to "find her own way."

Susan

Susan is Emily's younger half-sister. According to their mother, Susan excels in school, is more attractive, and enjoys greater popularity: Emily's "younger sister seemed all that she was not." Emily feels competitive with Susan and resents the extra attention their mother gives to her. The mother believes that because Susan grew up in a more nurturing environment, it was inevitable that Susan would outshine her older half-sister.

In "I Stand Here Ironing," an unnamed narrator reflects on her somewhat distant relationship with her eldest daughter. The story explores the quest—by both mother and daughter—for individual identity despite the constraints of poverty and other societal limitations. While it delves into the challenges faced by a mother and daughter in establishing identities distinct from one another and free from societal expectations about women, it also questions the nature of intimacy itself.

The issue of the boundary between the individual identities of the mother and daughter is introduced early in the story. The narrator appears unsettled by the notion of being asked to help someone understand her daughter: "You think because I am her mother I have a key, or that in some way you could use me as a key? She has lived for nineteen years. There is all that life that has happened outside of me, beyond me." Despite questioning "what good" her insights into her daughter might offer, she also asserts a unique and comprehensive understanding of her daughter: "You did not know her all those years she was considered homely."

The story portrays the identities of both mother and daughter as incomplete and still in the process of "becoming." The adolescent daughter is still striving for independence, while her guilt-ridden mother is still evaluating her own role. The shy daughter seems to possess a talent for acting, much to her mother's surprise, prompting her to wonder, "Was this Emily?" The daughter appears to become "Somebody" by pretending to be someone else on stage. Yet, even in the apparent freedom Emily finds through acting, she remains "imprisoned" by the public nature of her role and the audience's applause that "wouldn't let [her] go." Her mother feels unable to nurture this talent, leaving readers to question whether Emily's gift will ultimately remain unexpressed—"clogged and clotted" within her.

The mother's desire to define herself also seems unfulfilled by the story's end. She concludes that the task of "dredging the past" and sifting through "all that compounds a human being" is too overwhelming for her. Convinced she will never be able to "total it all," she decides not to comply with the request to "come in and talk." Her thoughts about her daughter and her own role as a mother remain private, shared only with the reader.

A profound sense of deprivation permeates "I Stand Here Ironing." The mother recounts numerous challenges she has faced: poverty, abandonment by her first husband, housework, and motherhood itself. These difficulties seem to compound each other and even hinder her storytelling: "And when is there time to remember, to sift, to weigh, to estimate, to total? I will start and there will be an interruption and I will have to gather it all together again." The mother's limited resources also restrict her daughter. She feels powerless to nurture her daughter's emerging talent as an actress. The mother attributes her own youth and distractions to the fact that "little will come" of her daughter's potential.

Both mother and daughter exhibit a sense of apathy by the story's conclusion: the daughter toward her future and the mother toward her perceived failures. The daughter chooses to sleep late, despite having exams the next morning, because "in a couple of years when we'll all be atom-dead they won't matter a bit." The mother, weary from "dredging the past," decides to "let her be." However, the story also hints at a desire to overcome this apathy. The image of the mother's iron, which frames the narrative, serves as a compelling symbol of this desire. In the opening sentence, the iron, along with the narrator's thoughts, "moves tormented back and forth." In the closing sentence, she expresses hope that her daughter will break free and realize "that she is more than this dress on the ironing board, helpless before the iron."

The narrator in "I Stand Here Ironing" is never described physically, nor is she named. Her identity unfolds through her account of her relationship with her eldest daughter, Emily. The narrator has endured significant hardship. Abandoned at nineteen by her first husband, less than a year after Emily's birth during the Great Depression, she has always struggled with financial constraints. The necessity to work long hours left her unable to give Emily the attention she needed. She remarried and had more children, to whom she feels she has been a better mother. She harbors many regrets about how she raised her first daughter and believes that, due to her maternal shortcomings, "all that is in [Emily] will not bloom." Readers have had varied interpretations of the narrator's final resolution about her daughter—to "let her be." Some view this as passive resignation, while others see it as a positive acknowledgment of her daughter's independence and ability to "find her own way."

Nineteen-year-old Emily is the narrator's eldest child. One of her mother's many regrets about Emily's upbringing is that "she was a child seldom smiled at." Emily's father abandoned the family less than a year after she was born, during the height of the Depression. As her mother struggled to survive financially, young Emily was passed between various temporary caretakers. Growing up, Emily was often considered unattractive, leading her to become shy and passive. After her mother remarried, Emily found herself overshadowed by her younger, more confident half-sister, Susan. To her mother's amazement, Emily has developed a knack for comedic acting—a "deadly clowning"—that earns her an audience, though she appears to lack drive. By the story's end, Emily opts to sleep through her exams, joking that "in a couple of years when we'll all be atom-dead they won't matter a bit." While her mother believes that "all that is in her will not bloom," she holds onto hope that Emily will eventually realize "that she is more than this dress on the ironing board, helpless before the iron."

Susan is Emily's younger half-sister. According to their mother, Susan excels more in school, is better-looking, and enjoys greater popularity: Emily's "younger sister seemed all that she was not." Emily feels competitive with Susan and resentful when their mother shows more attention to Susan. The mother believes that because Susan was raised in a more nurturing environment than Emily, it was inevitable that Susan would outshine her older half-sister.