LITR 5731: Seminar in American Multicultural Literature

Student Research Project , spring 2006

Crystal Reppert

April 24, 2006

The Search for Mexican-American Role Models in Literature

            High school drop out rates are alarming. John Bridgeland, CEO of the Washington-based public-policy firm Civic Enterprises, co-wrote a Gates Foundation-funded report that surveyed recent high school dropouts. 88% of those surveyed claimed their major reason for dropping out was not failing grades but boredom. The main reason given for leaving school¾boredom. Statistics show that one out of three high school students won’t graduate (Thornburgh). Latino and African American student populations often see 50% of their members leave school before graduation (Thornburgh 32).

            Many reasons contribute to student drop out rates. Multi-cultural literature, however, can play a significant role in alleviating the boredom factor by fusing culturally inclusive material and “making a connection between new information and student learning” (Alford 1). It is widely recognized among educators that literature a student can relate to and identify with has a stronger, more positive appeal than literature that is grounded in the culture of another race. Kristy Pawlak, in her journal of African American literature for young children, wrote of her love for reading and her realization that “all the characters looked like me, had families more or less like mine or those of my friends, and dealt with situations like those I’d heard about in history or seen in my life” (Pawlak 1). She questioned if her love of reading and learning would be so strong if the characters and situations in the books were not similar to those in her own experience.

            As a substitute, I am limited to books and movies selected by the regular teacher. In the week before Christmas break, the Caucasian teacher of a class I supervised had left a selection of three movies for her classes to choose from. In one of her seven classes, more than half the students were black. When I informed the class of the movie titles they could choose from, one girl immediately responded, “I bet not one of them has a black person in it.” She was correct. All three movies dealt with white people in white people situations. I have often talked with this teacher and she is an incredibly concerned, caring person, but instinctively selected movies that related to her cultural background. 

            I believe multi-cultural literature from all races is essential to increase student awareness and inspire their interest in the learning process, but in this journal  I have focused my research on Mexican-American literature. My original intent was to locate books suitable for the junior high/high school reading level with characters employed in professional, education oriented jobs. As a future high school teacher, I want to compile a list of books that will provide positive role models to inspire students to pursue their education with purpose, not merely as a period of legal obligation during which they count down the days until they can drop out. Positive role models in a student’s own culture are critical to make literacy and education accessible rather than merely a mandate of the dominant culture. This is easier said than done.

            An internet search of Latino/a authors brought up several titles that appeared promising. Books that have as their main characters lawyers, chefs (not cooks), and environmental scientists. However, further investigation revealed that these authors and their characters were not Mexican-American, but from other Latin countries. I continued my search in bookstores, on-line, and in libraries.  My search did not result in the outcome I had anticipated. I turned my attention to the biographies of the authors and realized that the combination of author biography with selected books could easily fulfill my goal. The following journal entries detail the books and authors I have selected.

            Class objectives that I found to be relevant in literature I surveyed are as follows:

1b. “Voiceless and choiceless”
(The contrast of  the dominant culture’s self-determination or choice through self-expression or voice to that of minorities.)

2b. To detect "class" as a repressed subject of American discourse.


3.   To compare and contrast the dominant “American Dream” narrative

(Involves voluntary participation, forgetting the past, and privileging the individual—with alternative narratives of American minorities, which involve involuntary participation, connecting to the past, and traditional (extended) or alternative families.)

3c. Mexican American narrative: “The Ambivalent Minority”.

4 . To register the minority dilemma of assimilation or resistance—i. e., do you fight or join the culture that oppressed you? What balance do minorities strike between economic benefits and personal or cultural sacrifices?

5. To study the influence of minority writers and speakers on literature, literacy, and language.

 

Authors and Books in my Journal

Rudolfo Anaya

            Rudolfo Anaya was born in 1937 in Pastura, New Mexico. His father was from a tradition of ranchers while his mother was from a family of farmers. In 1952, when Anaya was 15 years-old, he and his family exchanged the security of life in the small community of Santa Rosa for the urban environment of Albuquerque. In the city, Anaya experienced the twin effects of racism and prejudice for the first time.

            At sixteen, Anaya broke two neck vertebrae in a diving accident.  “The experience produced in the teenage boy a passion for life and an appreciation for the ability of adversity to either destroy or reshape one's existence” (“Hispanic Heritage”, par. 5). Anaya went on to graduate high school, attend business school, and complete his Bachelor of Arts in English at the University of New Mexico at Albuquerque.

            In the 1960s, Anaya taught junior high and high school during the day and wrote at night. He struggled to find his own voice until a mystical experience set him on the right path. “As he labored over his writing one night, he turned to see an elderly woman dressed in black standing in his room. This vision spurred the writer into action and a story began to flow from his pen, inspiring his first novel, Bless Me, Ultima (“Hispanic Heritage , par. 8).

Bless Me, Ultima

            Ultima is told with a richness of prose that brings the characters off the pages and into three dimensional existence in your imagination. The novel is the re-telling of the last days of the curandera, Ultima. Without family of her own, she is invited to live her final days with the Marez y Luna family of Pastura, New Mexico. She is soon both friend and mentor to young Antonio Marez y Luna, the six year-old hero of the story through whose eyes the story is told. The adventures Antonio shares with Ultima, as well as many of the adventures he encounters on his own, are encased in a world of magical realism. Antonio is a very deep thinking six year-old and wrestles throughout the book with conflicting spiritual issues and family obligations.

            Magical realism gives the story a unique twist. Anaya presents it in such a matter-of-fact way that you are left with the impression that things just happen that way in Pastura¾just as when Mary, Burt, Jane, and Michael jump into the sidewalk painting in the movie Mary Poppins. The magic doesn’t appear out of place or contrived.

            A magical adventure that Antonio and Ultima share together involves the curing of his uncle from a sickness brought on by the evil spell of three witch sisters:

It was very frightening, but at length we got the medicine down. Then we covered him because he began sweating and shivering at the same Time. His [the uncle’s] dark eyes looked at us like a captured animal. Then finally they closed and the fatigue made him sleep (97).

And, soon after Antonio’s initiation into the curandera world, he has a mythical experience all his own¾he sees the golden carp: “ The golden carp,” I whispered in awe. I could not have been more entranced if I had seen the Virgin, or God Himself (114). The desire of Antonio’s mother is that he will grow up and study to be a Catholic priest:

 “Ay,” my mother cried, “if only he could become a priest. That would save him [Antonio]! He would be always with God. Oh, Gabriel [Antonio’s Father],” she beamed with joy, “just think the honor it would bring our family to have a priest” (30).

Many other mystical events occur in young Antonio’s life that cause him to question his ability to fulfill his mother‘s wish.

            The prose of this book is phenomenal. Anaya’s descriptions are vibrant and his words paint pictures like the brush of a Renaissance artist. I believe it would be a literary heresy to not include Ultima on a high school minority literature reading list. The biography of Anaya provides positive educational incentive and his book is a unique model for creative expression.

Alfredo Véa, Jr.

            Alfredo Véa spent his youth as a migrant worker. Upon return from a tour of duty in Vietnam, Véa “worked his way through law school at a variety of jobs, from truck driver to carnival mechanic” (Holdridge, par. 9). He is currently a criminal defense attorney in San Francisco, California, as well as a writer.

            In an interview with journalist Jeff Biggers, Véa spoke of the relationships between his books, “they are from the "underside" of our society not written from the mainstream point of view, or from a mainstream sensibility. . . Silver Cloud was written from without, running parallels between "unseeable" things; the angels of the Milton and the angels of my youth. Both are invisible--the first because of their ethereal nature and the second because a racist society would not (will not?) see migrant farm workers as equal, living humans (Biggers, par. 4).Véa credits the Pinoy (Filipino) migrant workers as his inspiration to pursue education. “It was they who demanded that I not live a life in the fields. I remember so many of them, tired and dusty, sitting down next to me at the bunkhouse table, tapping their brown foreheads with a gnarled index finger and saying to me: use this ".

The Silver Cloud Café

            Silver Cloud begins as a murder/arson mystery in San Francisco that is being investigated by a white homicide detective identified to the reader only as Inspector. This worldly incident, however, does not mesh with the opening five paragraphs a poetic rendering of the exit of two world weary angels from the city. And, when Inspector interviews the only witness to the murder part of the crime, it becomes obvious that the book will be more than another crime novel. The witness does not give a simple statement of what he observed on the night of the murder, but sings a corrido (a popular narrative song and poetry form of the mestizo Mexican cultural area - Wikipedia). “He [Miguel Govea, the eyewitness] would say nothing now that was not called for by the tempo and key of his music“ (Véa 12). Inspector writes Govea off as another crazy, old immigrant.

            Zeferino Del Campo - a criminal defense attorney and the main character, is introduced in the second chapter. Del Campo has been commissioned to represent the man accused of the murder that Inspector is investigating. It is unclear to Del Campo why he has been specifically requested until the first meting with his client unleashes the repressed memories of a childhood spent as a migrant worker in the fields of California. Slowly, Del Campo’s memory unravels and he realizes that his client, a hunchbacked Pinoy dwarf, is the man who assumed responsibility for him as a very young child and was instrumental in setting him on a course away from the hopeless drudgery of the life of a migrant laborer.

            As Del Campo’s memory returns, he is transported in time back to his days in the fields with his friends, Teodoro Teofilo Cabiri (the hunchback) and Faustino (the homosexual). It is not a simple trip down memory lane. Véa laces the recollection with vivid snapshots of history and humanity’s injustices toward its own kind. Teodoro and Faustino are outcasts from mainstream society due to their low-skilled labor jobs in the fields and outcasts from the other migrant workers due to their physical and sexual differences. Faustino, however, is a scholar and poet and young Del Campo finds a compatriot with whom he can discuss science. “Did Ethel and Julius Rosenberg really steal the secret of the atomic bomb?” he asks Faustino (144). And this sets the stage for an academic discussion of the reasons behind the dropping of the atomic bomb and why the Japanese farmers in the San Joaquin valley lost their valuable land to the white members of the California Growers Association (146) as a result.

            Other historical incidents and injustices that Véa manages to expertly weave into his narration include: Cesear Chavez and his work with the migrant workers; radical religious Catholic beliefs in a small Filipino community that lead to the suffering of those who are different by no fault of their own; the false reasoning behind America’s open-door immigration policy to Filipino’s during and after WW II; the Cristeros War of Mexico, U.S. involvement in the war, and the resultant mass immigration of Mexicans to the U.S.

Véa’s novel, however, is not a dry history. His narrative is told in a poetic style and interspersed with magical realism:

An incurable disease, contracted at his [Humberto, the priest who survived a firing squad during the Cristeros War] first death, had rendered him immortal and doomed him to perish his whole life through in a hundred incompetent suicides. (53)

Just as Anaya wrote magical realism into his novel so that it appeared a part of the life in Pastura,  Véa also blends mythical occurrences in and out of the historical events of which he writes in such a manner that they seem perfectly plausible. Mythical events may not happen today, but certainly they happened in the histories of the book’s characters and the magic continues to follow them into the present until their missions in the scheme of things can be concluded. 

            Véa provides short biographies of the characters that crystallize the event in each ones’ life that has made him an active member in the events surrounding the murder/arson mystery. This technique gives a richness to the story telling by enabling the author to concentrate on one character at a time. The focus enables each character to assume individual importance and allows for a full exploration of their importance in the story.  

            Unlike Anaya’s novel, Véa’s provided excellent examples of Mexican-American characters in positions of authority brought about by education. The combination of  Véa’s history and the Silver Cloud would present genuine role models. Unfortunately, Silver Cloud deals with several instances of sexually explicit material inappropriate for even the high school level. However, I do not believe this book can easily be put aside. Sections of the book can be read in isolation and the before and after given in a censored explanation. I intend to contact Véa for his permission to copy out chapters of his book for class distribution. The skillful way in which he has woven together his poetic language and a wide variety of history will make a valuable contribution to a high school literature class.

Jo Ann Yolanda Hernández

            Jo Ann Yolanda Hernández was born in Texas. She earned her Master’s degree in Creative Writing at the University of San Francisco in California. Concerned that her writing would be construed as competing with her husband for status within the family, Hernández delayed writing until later in her life. White Bread Competition, a collection of short stories, is her first publication.

White Bread Competition

            A high school spelling bee competition is difficult for any student. The stress of being on the spot and watching as others drop out from the event is nerve wracking.  The school contest will determine a representative for the city-wide competition. The winner of the city competition will be awarded a college scholarship a scholarship Luz Ríos wants very badly. As a Latina, Luz has more on her shoulders than the competition alone. Not wanting to encourage her parent’s hopes only to disappoint them if she fails to win, Luz has entered the contest secretly. Only her younger sister, Justina, and Justina’s friends are aware of her part in the competition. That is, until she wins. Suddenly, as the first Latin student to win the school spelling bee, Luz has ceased to be merely a student and has become the Latin community representative. “This girl here is going to prove to the world that all Mexican-Americans are not like what they see in the movies,” her Tío Ambrose announces to the crowd at her cousin’s birthday party. The party came at a convenient time to double as a celebration for Luz’s success. Tío Ambrose’s announcement is only the beginning of Luz’s problems.

            Luz encounters the unexpected resistance of several people from whom she had anticipated support. Her friends question her desire to continue further in the competition, but Luz responds to them, “You got somebody else that can do it better than me?” (44). Luz is hurt when one of her friends responds, “What if you lose? The whole school will be laughing at you. How embarrassing” (44). Her grandmother’s resistan1ce is more troubling for her. “This thing with the college gets our kids nothing. It takes our children and turns them against us,” Abuelita declares and is supported by the other elderly women at the party (41).

            The mothers of the teen-age and younger children cast Luz as their defender not only as a member of the Latin community, but as a female against male superiority. Mrs. Cuellar, an assistant director at a San Antonio art gallery, pulls Luz away from her husband who is following Tío Ambrose’s lead of placing Luz in the position of a La Raza representative. “Luz is going to win. She has to, but only to prove that Chicanas are just as smart as the men” (48).

            Hernández introduces the book’s characters and their support or resistance at the birthday party, which occurs in the second chapter. The book then unfolds in a series of short biographies of the women characters. Through these short biographies that focus on single incidents in the women’s lives,  Hernández provides the reasoning behind their reactions to Luz’s success. Luz remains in the dark concerning the women’s reasons except for that of her Abuelita. She tells Luz the story of her encounter with immigration officials when she was a young woman.  Abuelita, caught in the middle of an immigration raid, was wrongly sent back to Mexico as an illegal alien despite her status as an American citizen. The son of an Indian couple who helped her return to her family in the US, made a gift to her of a black felt reservation hat that she insists on wearing despite her family’s disapproval. Upon learning of her Abuelita’s experience with racism as a young woman, Luz’s fear of possible failure at the spelling bee turns to determination. She begs her Abuelita to let her wear the black felt hat for good luck, but is assured,

Chulita, you have all you need already here.” I [Abuelita] tap her head. “You already have all the answers you will ever need here.” I put my hand over her heart. “You are a woman. You will be the best. That is all anyone can ask.” (171)

Luz’s Abuelita impresses on her that winning the competition is not what matters; her courage and determination to participate in the competition have made her a hero to her grandmother.

            Marieta Cuellar, who insists that Luz will win “only to prove that Chicanas are just as smart as the men” (48), has a biography that deals not only with racism but also sexual harassment:

Marieta had overheard Mr. Richardson [her boss] tell a co-worker that he liked what he saw in her, a small frame decorated in dark brown skin. Her hair moved with just a touch of bounce, the same bounce, he had chuckled, that matched the movement under her skirt as she walked away (84). 

There are also several other references to sexual harassment throughout the book.

            The style of mini-biographies used by Hernández is a technique also incorporated by Véa in The Silver Cloud Café. I feel that this technique may have been over done in White Bread Competition. Hernández seems to have over-extended herself and moved beyond a young adult book dealing with racial discrimination into a feminist criticism of gender role issues. From what I understand of reviews of White Bread Competition, it is a combination of several individual. Marketing the book for young adults may have been an afterthought. The level of writing is at a junior high school level, but the issues dealing with sexual advances by men in the workplace toward the Latina characters seems out of place for that age group.

Gary Soto

            Soto was born in Fresno, California. He earned a Bachelor of Arts degree in English and a Master of Arts degree in Fine Arts and Creative Writing. “He has been a professor at the University of California at Berkeley. He is an acclaimed poet, essayist and fiction writer” (Santucci par. 1). He has been compared to Mark Twain who, like Anaya and Véa, “used his own boyhood experiences on which to base his many books and characters” (Santucci par. 1). The majority of the characters in his stories are economically disadvantaged people. The stories, however, “never dwell on the negative but on the problems, solutions and consequences which many Mexican American families experienced” (Santucci par. 1).

 

Jesse

            Told in the first person, Jesse is the story of a segment of the life of a young Chicano man growing into adulthood. The narrative is located in southern California during the turbulent era of the foreign Vietnam War and the domestic war of the United Farm Workers. Jesse and his brother, Abel, have left home to attend community college. They struggle daily to met the many expenses involved with independent living: rent, food, utilities. A steady employment option open to them is field labor. Jesse views the work as a means to an end, while Abel condemns his brother’s easy acceptance: “You’re thinking like a slave.” Abel soon leaves the fields for other employment, but Jesse, at only seventeen, does not see another option to pay his half of the expenses.

            Jesse’s goal is to become an artist, a major goal of three of the women characters in White Bread Competition. In both books, the career of artist is viewed as frivolous by family members. The characters receive the major support for their dream from friends. “I’m going to enter it [a painting of three monkeys] in the art exhibit next week. Jesse, you should do something, too,“ Leslie, a fellow college student and Vietnam vet, encourages Jesse. Jesse enters the competition, but when he takes his mother to view his painting he becomes discouraged in the shadow of her indifference. “Why can’t you go into electricity? Angie’s son is fixing radios and making good money,” she asks of her son. He takes his mother to his painting, a group of striking farm workers and waits for her approval. Instead, she responds critically, “Mira! these lazy people are giving us a bad name.”  Jesse tries to explain, but realizes the fruitlessness of his effort. They leave the competition without his mother ever knowing, or asking, which painting is his.

            Jesse encounters several bumps on his road toward his dream: he is beaten up by white boys from his old high school while on a date; he skips a day of field work and looses a valuable day of pay to participate in a United Farm Workers’ march; his brother’s interest in a white girl with a baby. The major blow arrives when his brother receives his draft letter. Abel calmly tells his brother, “I got my letter. Second one.”

The house creaked, and it wasn’t God. The window rattled, the faucet dripped into a plate, and a fly whipped itself at the window. None of it was God. (160)

Jesse confides in his friend, Jesus, who consoles him: “Damn army! It’s our raza defending this country, and what do we get? Nada!” (162). Jesus talks Jesse out of his plan to join the army to be with his brother. Disconsolate and lonely, Jesse wonders why no one is making an effort to set the world straight.

            The prose of Jesse is acceptable for the junior high level, but somewhat simplistic for the high school level. However, the concepts are more appropriate for the high school level. Unlike Hernández, Soto keeps the book focused on the difficulties of a Chicano boy dealing with teen-age issues. Soto brings in other concerns - the United Farm Workers, problems with white members of the community, the War - but he keeps the focus on Jesse and his reactions to them. Hernández’s premise of presenting the reaction of others to a Chicana girl’s success is valid, but she strayed too far a field when she brought adult feminist issues into a juvenile book. Jesse can easily be read by both boys and girls. Few junior high/high school students would have the maturity level for White Bread Competition’s open attack on chauvinism.

Sandra Cisneros

            Cisneros was born in Chicago, Illinois. Her father was a Mexican national and her mother a Chicana. Frequent re-locations in Cisneros’ childhood were upsetting for her and caused her to be introspective. In high school, Cisneros found an outlet for her frustrations through writing. “She earned a BA in English from Loyola University of Chicago in 1976. However, it wasn't until working on her master's degree at the University of Iowa Writers' Workshop in the late 1970's that she says she found her particular voice, as a working-class, Mexican-American woman with an independent sexuality“ (Juffer par. 1).

            In an interview with Reed Dasenbrock, Cisneros refused to be cornered into limiting the expectation that her reading audience would belong to a specific ethnic group. Instead she said, “I think of a world reader. My standards are very high, and I really think of the writers I love the best. I'm trying to match them. And my favorite writers are, right now Merce Rodoreda, Grace Paley, Juan Rulfo, Manuel Puig, Marguerite Duras--these are my favorite writers. I'm trying to reach that world level. I think that we should always aim for that level (Dasenbrock par. 15).

Caramelo

            Caramelo is more than the story of a young Chicana finding herself. The story stretches over four generations and two countries as Ceyala struggles to overcome the trauma of being the youngest member of a large Mexican/American family without a private space of her own. Her “bedroom” is an orange Naugahyde recliner. Yearly, her family and the families of her father’s two brothers, pack themselves into three vans and make the trip from Chicago, Illinois to Mexico City, Mexico to visit the “awful Grandmother” and the “little Grandfather”. Even from her after life, the “awful Grandmother” haunts Ceyala and is critically aware of every misstep that Ceyala takes as she struggles to establish her identity. It is not until Ceyala is at the side of her father’s deathbed that she comes to terms with the “awful Grandmother”. At the moment that her father teeters between life and death, the Grandmother appears to reclaim her son and, as she and Ceyala fight for him, Ceyala is hit with the revelation that her life is paralleling her grandmother’s:

Me? Haunting you? It’s you, Ceyala who’s haunting me. I can’t bear it. Why do you insist on repeating my life? Is that what you want? To live as I did? There’s no sin in falling in love with your heart and with your body, but wait till you’re old enough to love yourself first. (406)

Ceyala makes a deal with the Grandmother for her father’s life - to tell the Grandmother’s story and release her soul so she can discontinue her semi-existence between two worlds.

            Cisneros has wrapped up several issues that can be identified with by a variety of people in her narrative. Her style of expression is low key, but her point gets made.

Like Soto, Cisneros deals with a variety of issues but consistently keeps her focus on Ceyala. The reader comes to know the histories of the adult characters not through their own eyes, but through the narrative of a young girl who is re-telling the memories of the ghost of her grandmother:

Lies, lies. Nothing but lies from beginning to end. I don’t know why I trusted you with my beautiful story. You’ve never been able to tell the truth to save your life. Never! I must’ve been out of my mind. . .

Grandmother! You’re the one who was after me to tell this story, remember? You don’t realize what a tangled mess you’ve given me. I’m doing the best I can with what little you’ve told me.

The grandmother, like her son, Ceyala’s father, and like Ceyala herself, is torn between the sympathy she can garner from the sad truth of her life and the honor given her if she embellishes a lifetime of half truths and creative fabrications.

            Caramelo is definitely a positive choice for a high school reading list. Cisneros’ story telling technique is unusual and thought provoking. Throughout the book she provides hints of the end without giving it away. She puts me in mind of a combined Agatha Christie (Appointment With Death, Thirteen at Dinner) and M. M. Kaye (The Far Pavilions); the clues to the end are overtly spread through the story and entwined in a style of descriptive prose that has a unique beauty. Like Véa, Cisneros includes a range of Mexican history. The history is not told in a dry textbook manner of dates and names, but as a part of the lives of the characters in her book.

            I began this journal disappointed that I was unable to locate the type of books I thought a minority reading list should have. After reading the books in my journal (and several others for which this journal has no room) I had an epiphany: is the Mexican-American experience mine that I should decide how it should be presented to others? As much involvement as I have in that culture through friends and business dealings,  it will never be mine and my experience within it will always be filtered through the eyes of a white person. This journal has brought me to the realization that the experience is best presented through the interpretation and expression of those who have lived it and in the manner that expresses their cultural values - not mine. My Mexican-American high school reading list is begun. I intend to continue to add to it as I interact in the future with great literature by Chicano authors.

 

Works Cited

Anaya, Rudulfo.  Bless Me, Ultima.  New York: Warner Books, 1972.

Biggers, Jeff.  “Weekly Wire Interview.”  Tucson Weekly 13 September 1999: 9 pars. 13 April 2006  <http://weeklywire.com/ww/09-13-99/tw_book.html>.

Cisneros, Sandra.  Caramelo.  New York: Vintage Books, 2002.

Dasenbrock, Reed.  “Interview with Sandra Cisneros.”  Interviews with Writers of the Post-Colonial World: 289-91.  16 April 200 <.http://acunix.wheatonma.edu/rpearce/MultiC_Web/Authors/
Sandra_Cisneros/body_sandra_cisneros.html>. 

Hernandez, Jo Ann Yolanda.  White Bread Competition.  Houston, TX: Piñata Book, 1997.

Holdridge, Randall.  “Alfredo Véa's 'Gods Go Begging' Is A Luminous Third Novel.” Tucson Weekly 13 September1999: 9 pars. 13 April 2006 <http://weeklywire.com/ ww/09-13-99/tw_book.html>.

Juffer, Jane. “Sandra Cisneros: Biographical Note.”  Moder American Poetry: 1 par. 16 April 2006 <http://www.english.uiuc.edu/Maps/poets/a_f/cisneros/bio.htm>.

“Life’s Spices: Author’s Biographies - Jo Ann Yolanda Hernández .”  Nubian Images Publishing. 11 April 2006 <http://www.nubianimagespublishing.com/Author/.htm>.

 Novel Pro. 11 April 2006 <http://www.novelpro.com/hernandez/>.

 “Rudolfo Anaya.” Hispanic Heritage: 16 pars. 10 April 2006 <http://www.gale.com/free_resources/chh/bio/anaya_r.htm>.

Santucci, Victoria. “Gary Soto; A Teacher Resource File.”  Internet School Library Media Center: 4 pars.  16 April 2006 <http://falcon.jmu.edu/-ramseyil/soto.htm>.

Soto, Gary.  Jesse.  New York: Scholastic, Incorporated, 1994.

Thornburgh, Nathan.  “Dropout Nation.” Time April 2006: 30-38.

Véa, Alfredo.  The Silver Cloud Café.  New York: A Plume Book, 1997.

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Corrido