Semester Theme

Although each work of Latino literature is unique and distinct from every other work, there are a few common themes that tie many of the novels together. My theme for the integration project is that identity is a struggle between cultural/familial values and choosing one’s own path in life. More specifically, coming of age is a vital part to the reconciliation of this struggle. Bodega Dreams by Ernesto Quiñonez and Dreaming in Cuban by Cristina Garcia are two of the books from this semester that exemplify this theme through their characters, Blanca and Pilar, respectively. Although both Blanca from Bodega Dreams and Pilar from Dreaming in Cuban must select different aspects of their cultural and familial identities to adopt as their own, each character goes about discovering which parts are most important on their own.

In Dreaming in Cuban, Pilar provides the best example of this in her struggle to become her own person. Pilar is disconnected from her immediate family, and does not find much value in her relationships with her mother or father. Although she does not get much out of that relationship, she does find great worth in the relationship she has with her grandmother, and respects and wants to adhere to her grandmother’s cultural and familial values. For example, when Pilar learns at a young age that her grandmother is an atheist, she quickly decides that she will be one as well, without knowing what all that would entail (Garcia 175). For Pilar, her deep connection with her grandmother is enough to determine at least a part of her direction in life.

In Bodega Dreams, Blanca struggles between the values of her Pentecostal culture and her family’s culture as she chooses her own path in life. We can see her internal struggle with this as she yearns to help one of her sisters in Christ find a husband and stay in the US, and how she wants help from people that her family, specifically her husband Chino, knows, but how she is unwilling to ask them herself. She instead asks Chino to go “husband-hunting for Claudia” for her (Quiñonez 95). Here, we see Blanca realize that both parts of her life are valid and can possibly work together. In this sense, Pilar and Blanca differ—Pilar seems yet unaware of the good that can be found in her immediate family’s way of life, but Blanca is reaching an awareness that there are valuable aspects to all parts of her life.

In conclusion, it is obvious that both Pilar and Blanca struggle between becoming their own person and pleasing those in their immediate family and community. Blanca struggles more with the realization that the life of the street, of the less prestigious, is just as valuable to her life as is the life of the Church. It is difficult for her to justify both of them, but eventually she realizes that both Chino and Jesus are people she loves and represent ideas she needs (whether to help a friend or to acquire eternal salvation). Pilar, on the other hand, still seems young and immature in her awareness of the good that could be present in her immediate family. Instead, she still agrees with her grandmother Celia, and avoids any connections with her mother. Pilar is still very much of the absolute view of her grandmother; she has not learned that there is a black and white area of beliefs. Although Blanca and Pilar both struggle to find their own identity, Blanca is advancing much faster than Pilar as she has already acknowledged the reality of grayness between either end of the absolute beliefs of her past. Both Pilar and Blanca need to come to a happy medium between the different backgrounds that they have to create their own identities.

Dreaming in Cuban Response

Pilar, the daughter of Lourdes, is better connected to her grandmother Celia than to her mother.

Pilar lives with her family in New York City, but gets sick of her mother and decides to run away. She gets on a bus to Miami with the intention of eventually getting to Cuba.

On the busride, Pilar dreams about being in Cuba and in it, she says that “the peple lift me up high and walk with me in a slow procession toward the sea. They’re chanting in a language I don’t understand. I don’t feel scared, though…I can see my grandmother’s face” (Garcia 34). This quotation shows that Pilar does not understand the Cuban language or culture completely—she cannot understand the language the people in her dream are chanting. Regardless, she is not afraid. Her grandmother gives her a sense of stability and connection, despite the physical and cultural distances.

Despite the physical distance, Pilar still says that her grandmother and her talk every night. Because of this ability to communicate freely, Pilar and Celia have created a very deep bond.
This truth further reveals the amount of magical realism present in the novel.

Throughout the novel, Pilar’s character remains more connected to her grandmother and less connected to her mother, and is a significant aspect to all three women’s stories.

The Young Lords

Bodega Dreams by Ernesto Quiñonez was written in 2000. The novel follows a young man named Chino and his life in Spanish Harlem, but one of the most important characters in the book is Willie Bodega. Quiñonez writes that Bodega was a member of the Young Lords when he was in his youth.

The New York chapter of the Young Lords Organization was founded on July 26, 1969. Although there was also another big chapter in Chicago, the NYC Young Lords quickly became the most prominent in social and political movements. The Young Lords were founded as a Puerto Rican nationalist group. They began as a turf gang, interested in cleaning up their neighborhood and supporting the people there. Their interest in helping their community continued until the FBI crippled and discredited the group in 1973. However, there are still Young Lords organizations and Puerto Rican Americans who identify with the group.

The Young Lords' presence inspired a Puerto Rican cultural renaissance in the 1970s. Art, music and poetry flourished. Groups such as the Nuyorican Poets Cafe were started and began to thrive--giving the world a new type of literature. The graffiti to the side is a portrait of Pedro Pietri, author of "Puerto Rican Obituary" and one of the founders of the Nuyorican Poets Cafe. This image can be found on one of the walls outside of the Cafe, which still thrives with new Puerto Rican poetry and music.

Palante is an important word for the Puerto Ricans. In turn, it became an important idea for the Young Lords. Palante became the name of one of the group's newspapers devoted to relaying their activities and ideology. The term is a contraction of two Spanish words para, meaning "for," and adelante, meaning "forward." Together, the phrase symbolizes the Young Lords' desire to improve the lives of their people.

The Young Lords developed a 13 Point Program that described their intentions in their community. The group wanted and worked for the self-actualization for Puerto Ricans and all Latinos, and they thought multicultural education was important. The Young Lords also stressed that machismo should never be oppressive, but instead, should be revolutionary and that men should support women as equals.

Mirrored

apologies to Rafael Falcon.


I glance, slightly disinterested, at myself in the mirror——nothing unusual there. Dark brown eyes look back at me. I see a face framed by straight, fine hair. The lips are thick and small; the ears and nose are full of angles. My skin is pale now, sprinkled with moles. In summer, my skin tans red—not olive like my sister’s—and freckles dot my nose. My skin shows a beautiful mixture: Swiss, English, German, Lakota and maybe a few drops of something else.

I look a little closer into the mirror. I see my grandma’s pink-backed quilt, made from Amish dress scraps, draped over a chair. Light blue and green polyester stars. The wind-pushed snow knocks hello at the sliding glass door. Mango, the cat, mews at the squirrel sitting by the naked oak tree in the backyard. It is too early for robins, but the cold weather hawk rests on the evergreen’s tip.

My mirror reflects things treasured by the Mennonite, the Amish, the proper English culture. It reveals rich traditions, elegant crafts, and plates and trays and baskets of food. I see Grandma Rosa, stirring three pots at once. Homemade egg noodles in broth, potatoes with garlic and rosemary, spicy sweet sauce for apple dumplings later. Her hips are my hips—confident and bossy, despite the generation gap. I see my Poppie: out with the horses, close up giving me a kiss, in the kitchen popping popcorn on the stove. I see my brother Jacob, named for Poppie, bobbing his head as he plays the marimba, his adopted instrument. I see my sister Anna, who inherited our mother’s skin and unique fashion sense, steal attention with her clever, silly ways. I see my grandpa LeVon, leading hymns at church. His unwavering tenor slides over the congregation. I see my grandma Leota, who is now going blind, picking green beans from the garden, their new puppy Abby at her side. I see myself touch Grandma’s elastic-less olive brown skin, pushing down the tall veins in her slender hands.

Suddenly, I see so many treasured things! As I look deeper into the mirror, geographical boundaries melt away. Times and places blend. I see the slow, low Amish songs mixing with the gospel Mennonite hymns. I see, from my parents and grandparents, the great smorgasbord of food. Homemade Chinese food and our family’s love of rice from my mother’s time in China. Plain hot water from Rosa’s life after the Depression. Homemade bread and jam from the Amish way of life. Popcorn and apples because that is what Poppie grew up eating on Sunday nights. A love for spicy foods from my dad’s time in Latin America. Canned and frozen vegetables stored in the basement, because that’s just what is done.

I look even further. I see Poppie’s scarred legs from being burned by lye. I see his mother and siblings surviving on potatoes while his dad and oldest brothers were gone finding a new home. I see his dark skin, his high cheekbones, his confident build, his suspected Lakotan blood. I see Grandma Rosa’s blue eyes and dark hair, proud of her Swiss heritage. I see Grandma Leota’s dark skin, her tall thin build, the Middle Eastern blood that somehow snuck into her family’s pure English line by way of a wandering man and his rebellious lady. I see the proof of these in the richness of the food, the love of travel, the need to learn that which has not yet been explored.

I look into the mirror and see much more than my reflection. I see that I am more than my brown hair, my brown eyes, my finicky skin. Wherever I go, I can carry myself with pride, knowing I come from beautiful people with rich, powerful stories. The mirror shows me that my reflection is just a small sample of the beautiful, rich heritage of who I come from, what I am.