Week 14 Discussion

The vignette that stood out to me the most was “Papa Who Wakes Up Tired in the Dark”. In this vignette by author Sandra Cisneros, she talks about her papa and how he tells her that her grandpa has passed away. While her father is telling her this, this is the first time that she sees her father having a moment of sadness. Although her father having this sad moment, he still has to get up before everyone to go to work I assume. I relate to this vignette because I’ve had a moment similar to this one before. My father who also gets up every day at 2:30 am while its still dark out, feeling tired and sleepy, also makes it to work no matter what. During the covid-19 pandemic, I remember my father calling me from work to tell me that my great grandmother had passed away. From the phone call alone I was able to hear the sadness from my dads tone. When he came home that afternoon, I just remember the sad, gloomy look on his face. I never seen my dad like that before, it also made me think about what would I do If I lost him.

Growing up, I faced some similar situations like the ones in “The House on Mango Street.” There was this one time when my family moved to a new neighborhood, and I felt like I didn’t quite fit in. I longed for a sense of belonging and struggled to find my place. It’s tough when you feel disconnected from your surroundings, but it’s also an opportunity to discover your own unique voice and identity. Esperanza’s journey mirrors the experiences of many individuals who have felt marginalized or different in their own communities. It explores the complexities of identity, gender, and cultural heritage. Through her storytelling, Esperanza seeks to find her voice and create a sense of belonging, ultimately empowering herself and others. The book beautifully captures the universal struggle of finding one’s place in the world, and it resonates with readers who have experienced similar feelings of longing, displacement, and the search for identity.

The vignette that stood out to me was, “My Name.” This vignette stood out to me because one of my last names is Alonzo and that comes from my father. I have 2 last names, but this one has such a negative connotation because my father was an alcoholic, he was a drug addict, he physically and verbally abused my mother, and he abused me and my brother and sister. Knowing that my last name is what connects me to my father growing up made me carry such a heavy weight with me and it frustrates me that even now that he is older he is still the same person he was when I was a child growing up. I have been thinking for a while now to change my last name and remove it and leave the last name from my mother’s side which has a way better history and does not have negative weight for me to carry.

One specific personal experience that stuck with me from the house on Mango Street specifically was “Hairs”.I feel this way because while reading with my group we eventually came to an agreement that somehow the hair was tied to their personalities and who they were. Coming to this decision resonated with me a lot because not only is hair a big part of my identity because I’m a girl but also because I come from a certain culture that depends on hair to tell others who you are. Reading this specific vignette held a lot of personal experience for me and also reminded me how big of a deal hair is in my life. This Vignette reminds me of how differently I see myself and others because my hair looks a certain way.

One personal experience of mine that echoed while reading “In the house of mango”  was definitely the struggles and living environment that Esperanza has. This is because now that I am an adult, I don’t live nearly as poor as when I was a kid. However growing up, I was very poor due to many personal problems after my parents had split, to the point that up until I was 11 years old I had to sleep on a couch in a living room and put all my school books and personal belongings underneath the couch since there was 7 people living in a one bedroom apartment, in a very small apartment. This made many simple things difficult, whether it be trying to sleep, waiting to use the bathroom, having no sort of privacy whatsoever, and always comparing my living situation to my more fortunate friends, especially when they had nicer things whether it be shoes, clothes, you name it, and living in a better safer neighborhood than I did.    

Hello, One specific personal experience that has echoed in “The House on Mango Street”  for me is “Hairs”. I believe this resonates with me because I come from a family of Puerto Ricans. One of the many things I love about us is that we come in all different colors and textures. From pin straight to kinky to curly to wavy, you name it… my family has it. A big bonus with this for me is that I get to learn how to do a bunch of different hair types with different designs. doing hair has always been a passion of mine. I was born with curly blonde hair as was my mother and now my daughter has the exact same hair color. My son was born with darker hair that has curls so tight your brush gets lost in it! In our family we embrace all these different types of beautiful hair types.

One personal experience that is echoed in “The House on Mango Street” was that my dad keeps talking about moving and getting a better house if we some day win the lottery. The parents in the story are telling their kids that some day they will move into a good home like the ones they see on the T.V. The name of the first vignette was “The House on Mango Street”, when they keep wanting a better house in which they can live for the rest of their lives instead of keep moving. The same personal experience I have but in a different type of way since we have never moved from this apartment but we did apply for other ones to see if they will reach out to us but it hasn’t happened. My dad was planning on getting a better house if we somehow win the lottery, but still no luck in that.

One specific personal experience that is echoed in The House on Mango Street is my living situation with my family is very similar to her past homes everyone shared rooms and shares one bathroom which just sucks when you’re already late for work/school. There is never any space in the apartment to do anything like run around throw a ball or anything. Ive always longed for a home in which I can have the space to do what I want when I want to. Since there was no space in the apartment me and my brothers would get on the walls and climb the walls since the walls were very narrow in the hallway. While reading the first vignette The House on Mango Street nearly at the end when Experanza was speaking to the nun and the nun asked you live there? That question had me rethink my living situation because I don’t live in a good place just like Experanza.

The vignette that surprised me was “Geraldo, No Last Name”. It stood out to me since this man was clearly murdered in an accident, and this was very jarring in comparison to the previous vignettes. The vignette that intrigued me the most was the one my group read for class “Cathy Queen of Cats”. There was so much going on in this vignette. Cathy, Esperanza’s new friend was introduced. It was clear that Cathy was detailing the cast of characters in the neighborhood, but the explanations came across as gossip instead of a quick rundown. It also turned the story back around on Cathy, and we were able to decipher that she lived in a home with many cats and a family that fills her head with delusions of wealthy family members in France. The vignette that puzzled me the most was “Four Skinny Trees”. Reading it over again, I was unsure if she was speaking about actual trees or real people. She personified the trees, detailing them with humanistic features such as elbows, or being too skinny, or her being able to hear them.

One personal experience of mine echoed in The House on Mango Street is texturism and how hair can be used as an identifier for an individual. In “Hairs,” readers learn about the personalities of Esperanza’s family by the way she describes their hair. Growing up, my mom used to call my hair “nappy.” This was usually followed by a statement that if my hair texture was “soft” like hers I could have grown it out. So when I think about it, I didn’t have a “personality” growing up because I was not allowed to express myself via physical appearances such as my hair. The vignette itself reveals a lot about Esperanza’s family through their hair, and that in itself is a beautiful thing!  “Hairs” is my favorite vignette that we read so far because it speaks on the appreciation of different hair textures within one family, which I think is a beautiful thing!

One personal experience that is reflected on Hairs, one of the vignettes from The House on Mango Street, is the variation of personalities that exists inside of a family. I like that the author used something so varied as hairs that because of textures, colors, and length is so different from one person’s hair to another. I personally identified myself with how the author explained the texture of the mother´s hairs as a reflection of her sweet and kind personality. I liked that description because that is exactly how I would explain my mom’s personality as well. Someone warm, caring and sweet. I also enjoyed how every member of the family is described just by specifying their type of hair. The main character described her hair saying that ¨never obeys¨ which made me laugh because that is exactly how her personality is. 

A personal experience of mine that relates to the vignette “My Name” is usually throughout my whole life people would say like you don’t look like a Caitlin or you have a caucasian name . That all leads back to you shouldn’t judge a book by its cover . Just because I’m African American doesn’t mean my name should be crazy . Also people usually always get the spelling of my name wrong . It’s spelled “Caitlin” people usually spell it Caitlyn , Kaitlyn , Kaitlin because they are used to seeing the name start with the letter K. But to me I’m actually fine with my name it comes from an Irish origin & it means pure . Another reason why I love my name is because my grandmother who I love so much named me & she also named my twin brother whose name is Cyle . So when people in school use to make fun of my name it never really phased me I just went about my day holding my head high in strong confidence.

I do have one personal experience that is echoed in the house on Mango Street, but not one of the vignettes.  My personal experience is remembering how many times we moved! Each time we moved the places got a bit better. I remember how I hated to move. Till one day, my dad had bought some scratch off lottery tickets, and he asked my little sister to scratch it off. As my little sister was scratching off the lottery ticket my father started to scream, we have a winner here!!! We all had to go into the city to collect the prize, it was so exciting.  I had to be 10 years old at that time and my brother and sister were 2 and 6 years old.  Now that my parents won the NYC Lottery, they finally got to buy a real house with stairs inside and bedrooms for all of us. We even had a big back yard and a garage to keep the car. My parents had to add their personal touches to the house, but it was so nice and big.  We didn’t have to worry about how much noise we made, or if we would have enough water to take a shower.  Nobody was banging on the ceiling with a broom stick to tell us to lower our voices or tv.  We finally had that house of ours dreams and we never moved again.

A personal experience of mine that is echoed in the vignette titled “My Name” is my struggle with my last name. As I shared in class, I have four siblings, and I’m the only one with a different last name. This came about because my dad was in jail when I was born. To be honest, I was bothered by it but not as bothered by the legacy of my last name on my mother’s side. My mother, her mother, her sister, her brother, and so on, were all in foster care and eventually turned to drugs. I hated that it seemed like history was repeating itself when I entered care. I felt as if I would just be another Butler on drugs; I thought I would be alone. The fear of becoming just another Butler swallowed me whole. The loneliness of my struggle weighed heavily on my shoulders, especially because I was the only one with a different last name among my siblings. In a world where your name is supposed to define you or open doors for you, mine felt like a sentence or a one-way ticket to a fate. I felt as if the weight of my last name was not just a label but a looming shadow.

Through the class reading of the vignette “My Name” from *The House on Mango Street*, I shared the same troubles as the protagonist, Esperanza. I remember when I first moved from a rural village in China to New York for middle school, I couldn’t read a single word in English on my first day. When people asked for my name, I instinctively told them the Chinese pronunciation, and almost no one could say it correctly. Therefore, like other Asian kids, I ended up adopting an easy-to-pronounce English nickname, “Tom,” which I still use. However, like Esperanza, we both prefer that others accurately pronounce our names, rather than altering them just to make it easier for others to remember.

In “The House on Mango Street,” the vignette “Hairs” resonated with me because it reminded me of a time when I struggled with accepting my natural appearance. Just like Esperanza, who feels embarrassed about her unruly, curly hair and wishes it were different, I also went through a phase where I disliked certain aspects of my physical appearance. I wanted to fit in with what I perceived as the “norm,” which often meant conforming to beauty standards that didn’t embrace diversity. Reading about Esperanza’s journey to accepting her hair helped me realize the importance of self-love and embracing the uniqueness of who I am. It taught me that true beauty comes from accepting and loving ourselves just the way we are.  

Through the vignettes in The House on Mango street we’ve read in class one I feel I have a personal experience I can relate to is “My Name”.  In “My Name” The narrator Esperanza talks about how she doesn’t like her name, but for me it isn’t so much that I hate my first name Daverne, it’s more a feeling of identity. As his first son my dad named me after him. Growing up I didn’t mind the name but after sometime I started not liking the name so much. I felt like I was another extension of my father which isn’t bad, but I thought of other first sons who their fathers chose to give them a name other then their first names and I wished I could have that, a name that is my own. I think that is why I prefer using my middle name Fils as my official name. Fils is French for son, so instead of naming me Daverne junior, my dad named me Daverne Fils. If you really think about it since Fils mean junior I’m still technically an extinction of my father’s name but I do think the name’s pretty original so I like it. Whenever people ask me for my name I always say Fils, only at school and work do people call me by first name. Funny thing is at home I go by another name. In my entirety of me living my Family has never called me by my government name not even my father. They all call me Carvens. And if I’m being honest, Carvens feels like more like my name than Daverne and Fils ever did. Daverne would come a close second though since that is what people would always call me. Lately I have been feeling like […]

When I started high school after coming to the United States it was tough with my name Josue because is a rare name in the United States. On the first day the teachers said it, saying “Jo-sue?” And all various pronunciations I corrected then It’s Josue, but it didn’t bothered me, “Josue”with the accent on the middle syllable Ho-su-e. But the teachers couldn’t get it right no matter how many times I repeated it. I gave up and let them call me called me how they wanted because it didn’t bothered me at all, it turned funny in the good way at the point some professors said my name wrong knowing how to pronounced it. Even in where I come from there are two ways to pronounce it. After all I take it in the good and funny way, gives something special or different from other common names or probably is the context that I got it from. Some times I give my middle name “Alexander” when they want to called me but in a easier way.  

In “The House on Mango Street,” there’s a vignette titled “My Name” this title resonates with my name also. My name is Harsneh and everyone pronounced it as harshneh, harsneha. During my childhood, I frequently faced situations where my name was mispronounced, sometimes unintentionally but occasionally persistently even after I corrected it. This experience was disheartening and made me feel disconnected, as though my true identity was being ignored or dismissed. Given how strongly names relate to our identities, hearing people pronounce my name incorrectly makes me feel both frustrated and disappointed. It could seem like a lack of care or attention. However, I accept that mistakes are inevitable and handle them patiently.. In my primary school, everyone pronounces my name wrongly even the teachers. That time I used to ask my family I wanted to change my name I didn’t want this name but then my family told me the meaning of the name, that my name meant to love god. Since that time I always love my name.

The vignette “My Name” from the House on Mango Street struck out to me. This felt relatable since, I struggled with my name. When I first came to the United States, I was in second grade. I didn’t know how to speak correct English and was really shy at the time, since I was also very young. I recall telling the teacher my name was Falaq, and she never pronounced it correctly; after four tries, I gave up and stuck with the mispronounced name she said, which was Faliq. From second to sixth grade, I was known as Faliq. Even today people still pronounce my name wrong, it is very rare for me to hear someone pronounce my name correctly.

The vignette that stood out to me was, “My Name.” This vignette stood out to me because I have always struggled with liking my last name. My last name is from my Dad, who I have never had a great relationship with. Unfortunately, I have always longed for the name of the family I am always around. Sometimes I feel left out because I am the only person with this last name. It is hard to resonate with my name because of this. When it was brought out that she was bullied or people would say it incorrectly, I went through the same thing at school. Many people would purposely say my name incorrectly to spite me and it was very upsetting because I already didn’t have a great relationship with my name. I have learned from my mom that I should embrace my name no matter what and that’s why this vignette stood out to me.