1 On Friday, Esteban was still gone.
2 Amari came into the ARTT room saying, The great imperfect world continues to spin on a slant. He threw his hands up like he'd just said something amazing. We just looked at him, waiting for him to say something else. But he didn't. He took his seat, looked over at Esteban's empty spot by the window and took out his markers.
3 Tiago reached for the recorder.
4 We all froze. Even Amari, his drawing pad halfway out of his backpack, the colored markers gathered in their rubber band on his desk.
§ Maybe for a millisecond, the world stopped spinning. Maybe Esteban, wherever he was, turned toward the ARTT room and smiled.
6 Can I record myself today?Tiago asked.
- The four of us nodded, our mouths slightly open.
He pressed the record button, cracked his left knuckles with his right hand. And started talking.
› So now it's almost wintertime, right. And we've been coming here for so long, I feel like I know you guys and you're sort of like my brothers and sisters and I know I can trust you right?
10 We all nodded.
" I feel like there's love in this room. I know that sounds corny, but I feel it. He hit his chest. Right here I feel like we care about each other. Even Esteban. Tiago kissed his pointer and middle finger and raised them into the air. Wherever he is, he's our brother and he's our friend and a part of him is in this room
11I want tell you the story of Perrito. He was my dog. He was part Doberman, part Labrador. He was the best dog. He was my best friend. He spoke Spanish and English. Sometimes, when Ms.
13 Laverne asks us to write in class, it's hard for me. The words don't want to come. I see you guys all writing and writing and I want to do that too. But the words I write want to come out in Spanish, not English. And people are always saying, 'Speak English! Speak English!' Not you guys! When you see me and Esteban talking in Spanish, you just say, Teach me.' You don't say mean things.
Once when me and my mom were walking down the block speaking in Spanish, this guy yelled at us, 'This is America! Speak English!' But I'm from Puerto Rico, and Puerto Rico is part of the United States of America too, so Spanish should be American, right?
14 We all agreed. Amari was drawing but he kept nodding with the rest of us. Tiago's quiet was beginning to make sense to us.
15 But me and my mom didn't say anything, Tiago said. Because that guy was big and he looked mad. If Perrito had been with us, I bet that guy wouldn't have said anything. Perrito was big too.
And the Doberman part of him was mad protective of us. When me and my mom got to the next block, we started talking again, but my mom was whispering and I was sad that that guy with his red angry face made my mom quieter.
16. The four of you guys-he pointed to me, Ashton, Holly and Amari—you guys only speak English, and I'm not saying there's something wrong with that
17 But, dude, Amari said, Puerto Rico's a part of this country and you speak English too.
18 Yeah, I know, Tiago said. But I only speak in Spanish with my family. And in PR, even though we had to speak English and Spanish in school, I still liked speaking in Spanish better. His voice dropped and he looked down at his hands. And because I came from Puerto Rico, I'm safe. I don't have to worry. Not for myself and my family. Just for my friends.
19 He stared at the voice recorder for a long time.
20 My mom, when she's at home, she loves to sing in Spanish. She talks in Spanish. She cooks in Spanish. It feels like she even laughs in Spanish, because her smile gets so, so big. But when she goes outside now, she is very quiet, because she's afraid another person like that guy will look inside her mouth and see Puerto Rico there. Not the beach or the sparkling blue ocean. Not the awesome pastelillos or the quenepas that are so sweet, you can't stop eating them She thinks they'll see her small town of Isabela, where her dad raised chickens and on holidays her abuela made arroz the old way, on a fire outside, and everybody begged for the pegao —the crispy rice that stuck to the bottom of the pot. She thinks people here will say, 'Go back to your country. ' Even though this is her country.
21 And it hurts her. It makes her sad and ashamed. Because if somebody keeps saying and saying something to you you start believing it, you know. My mom has the past dreams of Puerto Rico and the future dream of this place. And this place acts like it doesn't have any future dreams of us.
In English, Perrito means Little Dog. ' Our dog was just a tiny black puppy when we got him. He could almost fit in my hand, he was so small. Some people couldn't say his name right because you have to kind of roll your tongue to say the sound of the two r's together. Not everybody can do that.
23 We all tried to do it—to say Perrito like Tiago did. Only Amari could say it right, though.
24 I wanted to give him a name not everybody could say, Tiago told us. I wanted to make him even more special than he already was. I could whisper it and he would come running. His hearing was crazy good. When people called his name in English—without doing the right thing with the r's—he wouldn't even lift his head.
When he was dying last year, I put his head in my lap and I just kept petting him I said his name real soft, over and over and over. 'Perrito. Perrito. Perrito.' I wasn't scared. He just kept looking more and more peaceful. And then his breath kept getting faster and faster like maybe in his mind he was somewhere winning a race. And then his breathing stopped. And his 25 Tiago stopped talking. He had tears in his eyes, but he wasn't crying. Not really. Then the tears were spilling over. We didn't look at him It felt like it would be wrong to stare or say anything.
He was in his own world. He was back with Perrito, his face on Perrito. Ahead of them both-the finish line.
26 I know in my heart, Tiago whispered, the language we like to speak is music and poetry and even cold, sweet piraguas on hot, hot summer days. But it feels like this place wants to break my heart. It feels like every day it tries to make my mom feel tinier and tinier, like the size of Perrito's head in my hands. eyes closed. I put my face against his head and I said, 'You won, Perrito. You won the race.' And my mom let me stay like that for a long time. Just me and Perrito's body and the quiet.
This chapter deals with a lot of human agency -- what we
FEEL, what we HOPE for, what we FEAR, and what we REMEMBER. Identify one important thing that Woodson touches on in this chapter. Make sure you refer to a specific, concrete moment in the text! Discuss it. What is Woodson showing the reader, or, inspiring the reader to think about?
One important thing that Woodson touches on in this chapter is the power of language and the way it can affect individuals and their sense of identity. Tiago shares his experience of people telling him to speak English and the impact it has on him and his mother. He reveals his struggle with expressing himself in English and feeling more comfortable speaking in Spanish. He also discusses his mother's fear of being judged for her Puerto Rican heritage and how it makes her feel ashamed.
In one specific moment, Tiago recounts an incident where someone yelled at him and his mother to speak English while they were conversing in Spanish. Tiago explains how this encounter made his mother become quieter, as if she was hiding a part of herself. This moment highlights the pain and vulnerability that Tiago and his mother feel when their language and culture are disregarded and criticized.
Woodson guides the reader to think about the significance of language in shaping one's identity and how being forced to conform to a dominant language can create feelings of exclusion and erasure. Tiago's story encourages the reader to reflect on the importance of embracing different languages and cultures, and to challenge the notion that there is a "correct" or superior language. It prompts the reader to consider the impact of language on individuals' sense of self and belonging.