Like many people in most situations, I tend to stick with what I know. There have been multiple elements of If I Ever Get Out of Here and The Miseducation of Cameron Post that I can relate to, making it easy to engage in discussions and write my thoughts about each. I can understand some of the thoughts of characters within both books, and think back to a time when I have felt or experienced something similar. However, I’ve been a bit hesitant to write about The House on Mango Street because I do not have that same level of personal connection to Esperanza’s story. What do I know about Esperanza’s life? I have lived in the same house my entire life, located in the familiar middle-class suburbs of Philadelphia, without facing embarrassment of my home or financial struggles like Esperanza and her family. How can I relate to this story enough to have a valid opinion for reflection? I probably would not have written about The House on Mango Street if not for this prompt/challenge, but revisiting the book and characters has allowed me to realize the importance of engaging with books outside of your own familiarity.
I have always gone to school and lived in a neighborhood with people of similar backgrounds. My town is overwhelmingly Irish Catholic (so much so that it’s jokingly known as the 33rd county of Ireland) and therefore, my looks and background were not the roots of any issues as a child. When revisiting Esperanza’s story, the chapter entitled “Those Who Don’t” stood out to me as a direct opposite of my own fortunate upbringing. She recounts that those who enter her neighborhood think they are “dangerous” and will “attack them with shiny knives” (Cisneros, 28). In “Bums in the Attic,” Esperanza speaks of her shame over where she lives, reassuring herself that someday she will own her own home and will let people stay in her attic because she “know[s] how it is to be without a house” (87). Some other parts of the book that I’m fortunate enough to not relate to are Sally’s experience with her father hitting her (92) or Esperanza’s vulnerability being taken advantage of by a man at the movie theater (99). I was caught off guard while reading this book, and to be honest, uncomfortable at the thought of having to grow up like Esperanza. I know that everyone has their own struggles, but I have never had to experience the deeply rooted identity issues and shame that Esperanza grew up with.
When I originally began writing this, I intended to somehow piece together any sense of similarities between my life and Esperanza’s that I could find. I wanted to write about a common theme, a somewhat related scenario, or anything remotely the same between my life and Esperanza’s, However, reflecting on this book and my inclination to avoid writing about it, I am trying to remember that I don’t always have to try to find a common ground. With countless different cultures and challenges, not every book character will represent something from my own life. I can appreciate reading a book that allows me to catch a glimpse into an experience that I do not face, and I do not have to always relate to it to find enjoyment in the sentences or be interested in the story. The same can be said for life in general— I can learn about something or meet someone that is not in the slightest comparable to myself or my situation, but I can still respect the differences and want to learn more without craving commonality.
I believe the reason I felt less compelled to write about The House on Mango Street prior to this blog post was also because there is always the fear of largely misinterpreting something that you have not personally experienced. There is the doubt that you are not qualified to write about what you have not experienced, especially coming from a place of privilege. I’m largely aware that I have fortunately not experienced any shame stemming from my background or where I live, and that it is a privilege to have grown up with a feeling of security. It is both easier and more comfortable to stick to what you know, but this book and blog prompt has reminded me of the importance of reaching outside of your comfort zone and making an effort to extend the bubble we often contain ourselves in. Representation of different cultures and upbringings is important for both those who can relate and those who have never been exposed to that way of life, especially in adolescent literature. With reading other people’s stories, there comes a sense of compassion and desire to understand that which is unfamiliar, and this has the ability to emphasize connection and empathy amidst the differences that could otherwise fuel aversion or misunderstanding.
-Bridget Llull
Source:
Cisneros, Sandra. The House on Mango Street. Vintage, 2013.
Representing Adolescence @ Pitt 