I was supposed to read this book 20some odd years ago in high school. I didn’t read it, but managed to muddle my way through AP English class discussions and assignments about the book. I suppose it’s because of the relatable content within the pages. I was supposed to read it again a few years later in freshman English in college, but again, I didn’t read it. I’ve always been good at bullshitting a decent essay. I’ve held onto my copy all these years, telling myself I’d read it one day. I passed my copy on to my kid, who probably also hasn’t read it because they don’t teach it in high school anymore. If they had, she would have read it because she actually does read the assigned books.

The House on Mango Street came up during my daily Libby scrolling. The audiobook is two hours long, just the right length for an afternoon read. I thought of how I hadn’t read it twice. I thought of the librarian who helped Sandra Cisneros adopt her cats out. I thought of the moment that made me self conscious every time I speak the word mango. I grew up hearing the Spanish pronunciation in my home, so naturally I pronounced it that way. No one ever commented on it because most people around here also pronounce it that way. I don’t remember what the conversation was about, but I do remember my old boyfriend stopping me mid sentence to ask me to repeat myself before chuckling and saying that I was mispronouncing the word. There were other hints at my insufficient whiteness, but we were young and not nearly as strong or enlightened as we thought we were. I have since grown into the woman who would counter a misplaced correction and he has grown into a man who knows better.

But this book is not about that. Except, in a way, it is. It’s written as a series of vignettes about a young girl navigating through life as a Latina growing up in Chicago, each one relatable in some way. My experience is not Esperanza’s experience, but I found myself nodding throughout. Esperanza. Hope. Being mixed race is a different flavor of otherness, but I can relate. I’m not going to go into in detail because I’d just be expressing a lot of ideas I already have. But it’s a great book and you should read it. Cisneros narrates the audiobook and it’s a pleasant listen.

About a quarter of the way through, my kid wandered in to pester the cat. I had the book playing aloud and she ended up listening to the whole thing with me. She said she hadn’t read it, but as it went on, she remembered having read it in middle school. Still, she listened to the entire thing with me. I read a book and unintentionally got my kid to read one too. I’ll take that win.