What Mennonite Girls Are Good For is a sharp, intimate, and quietly provocative collection of short stories that traces one woman’s evolving relationship with faith, identity, and autonomy. Through the recurring character of Ruthie, Jennifer Sears offers a nuanced portrait of a Mennonite minister’s daughter moving from youthful devotion toward skepticism, self examination, and a complicated reckoning with her religious inheritance.
Ruthie’s journey unfolds across continents and communities from missionary outposts in Paraguay and Brazil to Mennonite towns in the American Midwest and the melancholy secular landscapes of the East Coast. Sears skillfully grounds these varied settings in the physical and emotional realities of Ruthie’s experiences, creating stories that feel deeply embodied, often sensual, and emotionally honest. The prose is clear-eyed and unsentimental, balancing humor and discomfort with striking precision.
What makes this collection particularly compelling is its refusal to simplify belief or rebellion. Ruthie’s doubts are not framed as a clean escape from faith, nor is her upbringing reduced to caricature. Instead, Sears explores the lingering pull of community, ritual, and moral certainty even as Ruthie navigates sexuality, women’s healthcare spaces, cultural dislocation, and the costs of self definition outside prescribed roles.
The stories grapple thoughtfully with the tensions between obedience and desire, belonging and estrangement, reverence and resistance. Moments of comic misstep sit alongside scenes of quiet devastation, revealing how deeply faith can shape the body as well as the mind. Sears’s portrayal of religious womanhood is complex, compassionate, and unsparing, allowing Ruthie to exist fully within contradiction.
What Mennonite Girls Are Good For is a powerful debut collection that will resonate with readers interested in stories of religious upbringing, feminist self-discovery, and the long shadow of faith. It is an accomplished exploration of what it means to leave a world behind—and what it means to long for parts of it still.