Which conflicts are revealed in the passage? Select two options. an internal conflict within the narrator, who is frightened by
the extremity of her anger at her mother an external conflict between the narrator, who is demanding independence, and her mother, who is demanding obedience an external conflict between the narrator and her mother over whether or not the narrator will continue to live at home an internal conflict within the narrator’s mother, who cannot decide whether to throw her daughter out of the family home an external conflict between the narrator, who wants to be the kind of daughter her mother wants, and her mother, who thinks that’s impossible "You want me to be something that I’m not!” I sobbed. "I’ll never be the kind of daughter you want me to be!”
"Only two kinds of daughters,” she shouted in Chinese. "Those who are obedient and those who follow their own mind! Only one kind of daughter can live in this house. Obedient daughter!”
"Then I wish I weren’t your daughter. I wish you weren’t my mother,” I shouted. As I said these things I got scared. It felt like worms and toads and slimy things crawling out of my chest, but it also felt good, as if this awful side of me had surfaced, at last.
"Too late change this,” said my mother shrilly.
And I could sense her anger rising to its breaking point. I wanted see it spill over. And that’s when I remembered the babies she had lost in China, the ones we never talked about. "Then I wish I’d never been born!” I shouted. "I wish I were dead! Like them.”
Read the passage from "Two Kinds.” "You want me to be something that I’m not!” I sobbed. "I’ll never be the kind of daughter you want me to be!” "Only two kinds of daughters,” she shouted in Chinese. "Those who are obedient and those who follow their own mind! Only one kind of daughter can live in this house. Obedient daughter!” "Then I wish I weren’t your daughter. I wish you weren’t my mother,” I shouted. As I said these things I got scared. It felt like worms and toads and slimy things crawling out of my chest, but it also felt good, as if this awful side of me had surfaced, at last. "Too late change this,” said my mother shrilly. And I could sense her anger rising to its breaking point. I wanted see it spill over. And that’s when I remembered the babies she had lost in China, the ones we never talked about. "Then I wish I’d never been born!” I shouted. "I wis
