By Josselyne Ramirez 

Esperanza: to want something to happen and be true, also known as hope. Esperanza Cordero is the name of a young Latina girl in the novel, The House on Mango Street, by Sandra Cisneros. In her coming-of-age journey, she longs for a home of her own where she can be herself. A space far from Mango street where she can develop her hybrid cultural identity. She is given this home by her parents, resolving the main problem, but it doesn’t meet her expectations. She lacks a sense of belonging, leaving her confused about her identity as well as facing social class issues both in school and in her neighborhood. 

Esperanza is characterized by her independent personality; she aspires a brighter future for herself. I was able to connect to Esperanza and her internal development from beginning to end. My family immigrated to America from Mexico when I was eight years old. I found myself in front of a language barrier as well as in the middle of an identity crisis. I wanted to find a place where I could embrace both my Mexican heritage but also my American pride as I was raised in a hybrid environment. As I learned English I did not want to deny part of my culture. 

When I started attending school I learned to assimilate within my environment. I started to pronounce my name differently so people could say it with ease, just like Esperanza. We see this reflected in the chapter called “My Name,” where Esperanza says, “At school they say my name funny as if the syllables were made out of tin and hurt the roof of your mouth. But in Spanish my name is made out of a softer something, like silver..I would like to baptize myself under a new name, a name more like the real me, the one nobody sees” (Cisneros 11). A name says a lot about someone’s identity as well as defining first impressions. Unfortunately, it can suggest gender, nationality, even someone’s personality. It is the meaning our parents give us from birth and the foundation to living up to those expectations. Esperanza was the name given to the main character; however, she felt like she needed a new name. One that would be easy to pronounce and fit her dreams. It could have been “Hope,” the English translation, but instead it’s in Spanish. Her name, as soft as silk, is valuable as it connects her to her Mexican ancestors. She wants to be free to express her identity not in a specific language just on her own. 

Language manifested itself as a barrier as well as a bridge when looking for an identity. A person is not tied down to either/or, for being Mexican-American is a knit of both. I learned this the first day of third grade when I felt so small for not understanding English. The first day of school in America became a long-term memory for me. My teacher did not know Spanish and I did not know English. As I navigated class holding tight to a book written in Spanish, we stood for the National Anthem. Confused about what was going on I reached for my book for comfort and in a matter of seconds, I looked up to an upset teacher in front of me. I know now that she asked me to put the book away but I did not understand then. I stared back at her with a blank look as she repeated the words that to me sounded like a washing machine. I was too shy to ask anyone what was happening; she snatched my book and I pulled it back quickly. She yelled, “Get Out!” as she pointed to the door. I left with tears streaming down my face. I was ashamed and I did not know why.

This experience has stuck with me and it motivated me to get a higher education. To leave home to go to college seeking a new challenge and environment. All because of the humiliation I felt, in the same way a culminating point in Esperanzas is when she gets sent to Sister Superior’s office. In the chapter “Rice Sandwich,” Esperanza asks her mom to pack her a lunch. The preppy kids who lived further from the school got to eat their lunch in the Canteen. Esperanza wanted to feel special by having lunch with them, so her mom wrote her a note. Everything went according to plan until one of the nuns who knew all of the canteen kids pulled her aside. Esperanza handed her the note but she got sent to the sister superior’s office. The sister’s superior mockingly reassured her that she didn’t live far and made her feel small by asking to look out the window and point at her house. “And then she made me stand up on a box of books and point. That one? She said, pointing to a row of ugly three flats, the ones even the raggedy men are ashamed to go into. Yes, I nodded even though I knew that wasn’t my house and started to cry.” (45) 

Esperanza did not live in that neighborhood and yet she agreed. The Nun assumed her social class and made her feel less than the kids who had lunch at the canteen. As she cried she realized there was nothing special about eating lunch at the canteen, but I do know she didn’t forget that experience as we see a switch in her attitude. At the beginning of the novel Esperanza wanted to leave Mango street and to never come back. She wanted to break the norm by moving out. We see her develop into by going with the flow and fluidity of being chicana. Being her individual self she found herself figuring out that Mango street is a part of her. She wanted to run away to change her outcome when in reality she had to accept her identity within Mango street to move into the next stage in life. “When you leave you must remember to come back for the others. A circle, understand? You will always be Esperanza. You will always be Mango Street. You can’t erase what you know. You can’t erase who you are” (Cisneros 105).