Leila Zefri

February 19, 2018

Revisiting The House on Mango Street

There are very few books that stand out to me from my adolescence. If you asked me

why that is, I would probably tell you that I didn’t notice literature or its importance until high

school. When I think of books that have impacted my life greatly I think of East of Eden, The

Perks of Being a Wallflower, The Catcher in the Rye, and other great books that did not fall into

my lap until the middle of high school. When I reflect on middle school, following the intense

cringe and shiver that always accompanies thinking about the most uncomfortable and awkward

time of your life, I recall teenage romance novels and stories of dystopian futures. While

completely satisfying and interesting books, they were definitely not life-changing for me.

However, when prompted to really think about my experience with books (and I mean really,

really think because it is hard for me to recall what I had for breakfast this morning) I realized

there is at least one book from late middle school that I walked away from as a different person;

that book is The House on Mango Street by Sandra Cisneros.

The House on Mango Street follows young Esperanza from adolescence to emerging

adulthood. The story takes place in a poor Latino neighborhood in Chicago and is told from

Esperanza’s perspective through little vignettes that resemble entries to a diary. Esperanza starts

off the novel by explaining how her and her family came to live in the house on Mango Street.

Her family moved after renting an apartment from a landlord who refused to fix damages. After

getting fed up from the pains of renting, her parents saved up a lot of money to buy their very

first house. However, Esperanza cannot help but feel disappointed and ashamed of their new

home. The house is a small, rundown one-bedroom one-bathroom house meant to fit her mom,
dad, two brothers, sister and herself. Esperanza is forced to mature very quickly at a young age—

from lying about her age to get a job, to growing hips, to being sexually assaulted—which helps

her come to the realization that she wants to break the cycle she sees many of the Latina women

in her life and neighborhood stuck in. She uses her writing as a way to cope with the adversities

she has faced and writes stories about the future to keep up her hope and determination. At the

end of the novel Esperanza reflects that one day she will leave Mango Street behind her because

she is “too strong” to be kept there forever (111).

I was first introduced to this book in my eighth grade English class. My teacher assigned

us certain pages to read per week and we would have a weekly assignment and/or discussion for

those pages. Assignments ranged from general opinions to looking at the effects that syntax had

on the book. It is interesting to me that the book I found transformational in my adolescence was

an assigned reading because the only other books I remember being assigned do not have such

fond memories. For example, I was assigned The Pearl by John Steinbeck in sixth grade and

now I use that book to put myself to sleep. Nevertheless, I am grateful it was assigned because I

am not sure I would’ve come into contact with this book otherwise. The House on Mango Street

offered me a very different protagonist than books I had previously been exposed to and came in

a form of storytelling that I wasn’t familiar with in middle school. Outside of that, this

beautifully written novel gave me little windows into the lives of loved ones I saw reflected

within the characters. My mother grew up poor in Puerto Rico and has always shared her story

honestly with my siblings and me. In Esperanza, I see my mother—not just for the Hispanic

connection but also because they both embody the determination and hope needed to break the

cycle of poverty and the adversities that too often accompany it. There are many characters that

Esperanza describes as stuck on Mango Street and waiting for somebody else to change their
lives. One such character is Rafaela, a women whose husband locks her inside their house

because “she is too beautiful to look at” and he worries she will leave him (90). Rereading The

House on Mango Street I am shocked by the lack of representation of strong female role models

for young Esperanza and understand better why I saw my mom in her. My mom has created the

life for my siblings and me that she wished she had when she was young, and because of that I

now see my mother as a successful continuation of Esperanza’s character. Now when I envision

Esperanza past the novel’s ending I see her story and my mother’s converge which is a story of

successfully breaking the cycle.

When reading the book now, I am heartbroken by the fact that Esperanza lacks decent

role models. Often, women in her community are treated as commodities to be looked at and

used by the men. Esperanza addresses this early in the novel by explaining that “boys and the

girls live in separate worlds” and that her brothers act differently towards her in their house than

outside in the public (30). When reflecting back on my middle school experience reading this

book for a class, I do not specifically recall conversation around the role of women in the

neighborhood (which definitely doesn’t mean there wasn’t one, again awful memory over here).

However, approaching the topic of the role of females now as a 19-year-old and self-declared

feminist is inevitably going to be different than my 13-year-old pubescent self. I appreciate the

way Sandra uses Esperanza’s young voice to call out the discrepancies of treatment between

males and females. There is something about the image of abused wives, sexually assaulted

teens, and creepy old men being described to you by a 12-year-old character that make them

especially powerful. For instance, when Esperanza describes her neighbor Ruthie, she explains

how Ruthie could have been anything she wanted to be because “she had lots of job offers,” but

she ended up getting married instead of taking a job (80). This baffles Esperanza because she
“can’t understand why Ruthie is living on Mango Street if she doesn’t have to” (80). I appreciate

the innocence presented in Esperanza and applaud the fact that Sandra chooses to have her not

internalize the notion that a woman’s most important goal should be to marry. Arguably in the

midst of another feminist revolution those stereotypes and expectations are sadly still present in

society today. Many women find themselves “stuck” in their marriages, their lives, or their

professions due to societal pressures. Whether it be through television, books, role models, or

straight from others’ mouths, girls are constantly given (and internalizing) unfair and alarming

messages —some jobs are meant for you, others are not, don’t be a prune, but also nobody likes

promiscuous girls—the list goes on.

Reading this book now makes me reflect on and critique all the subliminal messages sent

to females though society and the effects they have on young females. On that note, I appreciate

how Sandra wraps up the story. The final chapter, called “Mango Says Goodbye Sometimes,”

Esperanza writes about how she knows she will leave Mango Street eventually, but that she will

come back “for the ones [she] left behind,” alluding to the women who do not have the strength

to get out alone (112). This message is very relevant in today’s society. In this competitive

world, we often forget to lift each other up and to help others succeed. In the context of females,

I feel that this is especially important. In order to break the glass ceilings and stigmas that

females face in today’s society, it is going to take a group effort. Luckily, I do get the sense that

girl power is being conveyed to girls at a younger and younger age which will hopefully trickle

down to more Esperanzas in the world breaking the negative cycles they find themselves in.

In conclusion, The House on Mango Street resonated with me in middle school because

of its representation of a strong Latina protagonist, which was novel at the time, as well as the

meaningful connections I made between Esperanza and my own mother. Rereading the book six
years later allows me to strengthen and deepen the connections between Esperanza and my

mother as well as critically analyze how women are portrayed in the novel. It amazes me how

applicable a book written almost 35 years ago can be to modern society. I wish I could say the

issues dealt with in the book are outdated and we have moved past an age where women are seen

as property, but that is sadly not true. Despite the steps that have been made in the right

direction, the issues are not yet obsolete. I appreciate how Sandra maintains a hopeful tone

through a protagonist that rebels against norms in a realistic and achievable way and writes an

open ending that leaves you certain of Esperanza’s ability to break the vicious cycle so many

become victim to.

Peer Editing Reflection;

In my initial draft, which was more of an outline than a written-up essay, I had planned to have

more of a thesis with coinciding paragraphs that answered one question from the prompt, then

moved to the next, and so on. However, after talking with Grace and reading her draft I realized

how all of the pieces of the prompt could be more interwoven. Having that realization helped my

find my own voice in this essay. Prior to peer-editing I had not really considered what my voice

was going to be but through talking with Grace I was able to realize that through writing about

my experience with the novel honestly my voice would naturally come through. Also, since I did

enjoy this book (both as an adolescence and now) it was hard for me to pick which parts of the

text I wanted to highlight and dive into the most. Through writing a first draft I was able to play

with different parts of the story as examples, and then pick the ones that I found to be most

powerful and representative of the piece as a whole and the points I want to emphasize.