They either didn't exist, or they didn't exist where I could find them. My search continued, but I couldn't find any others. I sped through four or five books a week, and one book just wasn't enough. I found one: Esperanza Cordero, the heroine of Sandra Cisneros' young adult classic, The House on Mango Street. In middle school and in high school, I searched for stories of the 16-year-old Esperanza or the Esperanza who lived in 2007. As a child growing up Mexican-American in El Paso, Texas, this book about a Mexican girl's search for her place in the world was exactly what I needed.īut in a flash, I grew up and grew out of Esperanza Rising. I purchased it at the Scholastic Book Fair, lured in by the Spanish name of both the character and the author and the ethereal illustration of Esperanza floating above the farmlands of California, a canary-colored dress draped across her body, raven hair flying through the wind.Įsperanza is Mexican, and I had never seen a Mexican girl on the cover of a book before.Įsperanza's search for belonging and strength in a strange new world resonated with me, the daughter of a border town - a place where nationalities and languages and superstitions collide to form something no one quite understands on either side of the Rio Grande. In elementary school, I stumbled upon a book that I would revisit time and time again as a child: Esperanza Rising by Pam Muñoz Ryan.

Labyrinth Lost by Zoraida Córdova