klein_literacynarrative

MY LITERACY NARRATIVE

by nora klein

“A Rice Sandwich.” That was the title of the first chapter I encountered
from A House on Mango Street, what would later become not only my favorite
book, but a pivotal aid in the development of my passions, my identity, and

my values.
I was probably in fourth grade at the time. Our close family friends
were over to visit one summer evening. Gathered on my full sized bed,
Tracy, Nina, Katie, and I listened to Mark, the oldest, probably an 8th
grader at the time, read this chapter aloud to me and his three younger
sisters. We sat in my room; its expansive yellow walls, plush carpets, custom
drapery, and ornately painted mirror standing in sharp contrast to the home
described by Esperanza, the narrator and protagonist of Mango Street.

The House on Mango Street, by Chicana author
Sandra Cisneros, tells the story of Esperanza,
a thirteen year old young women growing up

in a working class neighborhood in an
unnamed city (likely Chicago). Narrated by
Esperanza, the book follows her coming of
age in a neighborhood she feels ashamed of.
She shares her observations about many of
the people on Mango Street: Lucy and Rachel

who lose a baby sister, Minerva who's
husband leaves her, Sally who's father abuses

her, and many many others.

Esperanza’s story is nothing like a mine growing up in a
four bedroom tutor style home in a wealthy suburb of
Milwaukee. But for some reason, I felt a deep connection

to Esperanza and I couldn't stop reading her story.

I read it to distract myself from
the stressfully dense book in my
AP English class and my college
readings on critical race study.

Interestingly enough, these
other piece of literature, as well
as the discussions I had about

them with friends and
classmates, taught me a lot

about Mango Street.

I eventually discovered that Mango Street is so important
to me because I connect to Esperanza as a woman.

“At some point in our lives, we have all felt other,” writes
Cisneros. And as I grew into a young woman, this was true

for me too. I had not necessarily felt other in the same
ways Esperanza had- I do not face otherness because of

my skin color and I am not marginalized by my class
position -but I have felt other being a woman.

I think that my experience with Mango Street demonstrates the importance of storytelling
as a means of resistance. Uninterrupted storying telling lets the author speak in their truest
voice to an audience who cannot not stop and ask questions, clarify, or dispute the author’s
experience. This is especially important for women, people of the global majority,
LGBTQIA+ folks, and other marginalized groups, who’s stories and experiences are often
ignored, interrupted, or questioned. Having their stories in writing puts the reader in a
position of self-reflection, something that is often uncommon in U.S. life. One can read the
same book 50 times and always discover new meanings because although the book does not
change, the life of the reader does. My relationship with Mango Street has underscored the
importance of seeking others’ stories of “otherness” but also exploring my own.

Stories of otherness and
solidarity with friends in
Guatemala and with my

Everytown family