At Christmas, I flew home to Chicago.The house was throbbing 11, same as always:hot tamales and sweet tamales hissing in mymother’s pressure cooker
Cisneros wants her father to recognize her as a writer, not just as a teacher. She wishes he would introduce her proudly as “my only daughter, the writer,” which would show how much his approval means to her.
I remember my father saying,“Que bueno, mi’ha, that’s good.” That meant alot to me, especially since my brothersthought the idea hilarious. What I didn’trealize was that my father thought collegewas good for girls—good for finding ahusband. After four years in college and twomore in graduate school, and still nohusband, my father shakes his head evennow and says I wasted all that education.
This part really played with my emotions because at first I thought her father was supportive, but later I realized he only saw college as a tool for her to find someone to marry instead of getting an education.
Being an only daughter in a familyof six sons forced me by circumstance tospend a lot of time by myself because mybrothers felt it beneath them to play with agirl in public.
Her brothers are honestly weird for acting like that. Instead of making her feel uncomfortable for being the only daughter.
Well, I’ve thought about that eversince, and yes, it explains a lot to me, but forthe reader’s sake I should have written: “I amthe only daughter in a Mexican family of sixsons.” Or even: “I am the only daughter of aMexican father and a Mexican-Americanmother.” Or: “I am the only daughter of aworking-class family of nine.” All of thesehad everything to do with who I am today.
In this paragraph, Cisneros expresses how her identity and background shape who she is. When she lists the 3 different ways to describe herself, she talks about her gender, culture, and social class.
My father loved books, and since I loved my father with an aching devotion, I decided to love books as well.
This sentence connects to me because it shows that loving something his father loved helped him feel closer to both the books and his father. It reminds me of my own relationship with my father, and how sharing an interest with him can create a deeper connection between us.
Despite all the books I read, I am still surprised I became a writer.
I am adding this to the thought-provoking list because I am surprised that he is surprised by becoming a writer. It makes me question how someone can be so surprised to become something that has been a constant part of his life.
My father, who is one of the few Indians who went to Catholic school on purpose, was an avid reader
The opening of this paragraph characterizes the narrator’s father as self driven and unusual, showing that he has chosen a religious path different from what others might expect. I connect with this just a little because I have met someone that choose a different religious belief other then what there family expected from them.
Our house was filled with books.They were stacked in crazy piles in the bathroom, bedrooms and living room.
This takes me back to a memory of my uncle. He was obsessed with his comics. When you entered his room, every inch was covered with some sort of Marvel or Dc item or comic.