A Dream Called Home

Abandonment is a key theme in Reyna’s memoir. In Chapter 6, she revisits her lingering anger at being abandoned by her mother. Over a decade had passed since Reyna’s mother left her children to pursue a romantic relationship in Acapulco, yet Reyna’s feelings remain raw. Reyna’s anger ebbs somewhat when she realizes that her mother was herself abandoned. Reyna’s father left his family in Iguala when he immigrated in search of work, a situation that was particularly hard on her mother: “I understood that my mother hadn’t wanted to be an abandoned woman. [...] How happy and proud my mother had been when my father telephoned and said, ‘I need you. I want you to come’” (45).

Sending Betty to live in Mexico is also a form of abandonment. Betty is still a minor when her mother ships her off to Iguala as punishment for her bad behavior. Her goal is to give Betty a traditional upbringing, the kind she, her sisters, and her mother received. Betty is headstrong, however, and does not abide by Abuelita Chinta’s rules. Without a parent to keep her on track, Betty stops going to school, spends her time socializing with friends, and becomes romantically involved with a married man. Reyna’s mother complains about Betty’s behavior: “She’s driving your aunt crazy […] She’s running wild, and your aunt can’t control her anymore” (43). Reyna responds by calling out her mother for neglecting her parental duties: “Well, you shouldn’t have sent her down there in the first place […] She’s your responsibility, not my aunt’s. Why are you always making other people raise your children?” (43).

Reyna sympathizes with Betty because she knows what it feels like to be abused and abandoned by her parents. She vows to give her sister the stable home she never had: “Little sparrows need their mothers, at least until they learn to fly” (71), Reyna says to herself, parroting the words of an old woman she encountered on a pilgrimage from Iguala to Pueblo Viejo. She embraces her new role as a mother-figure, knowing it will benefit her as much as her sister: “I could be the mother Betty needed, and I wouldn’t be so lonely anymore if I had her with me” (71).

Reyna provides guidance for Betty by stressing the importance of education and resilience, two themes that feature prominently in her opening chapters. In Chapter 7, for instance, she reminds Betty of how much they sacrificed for a chance at a better life. Reyna wants her sister to move back to the US and enroll in school. She is confident education will have a positive impact on Betty, just as it has on her. For Reyna, UCSC is more than a school; it is the place where she belongs: “I have found my paradise. I am finally happy, despite what [Abuela Evila] did. I have found a beautiful home” (64).

Reyna employs powerful imagery to underscore negative emotions and experiences. For example, she describes her apprehension at calling her father in Chapter 6, two months after arriving at UCSC. On one hand, she is desperate to hear her father’s voice. On the other hand, her father has a long history of hurting her physically and emotionally. She picks up the receiver of a pay phone but does not dial his number. Instead, she listens to the dial tone until the phone starts “screeching like a dying rooster” (41).

Reyna uses more dark imagery later in the chapter, in her description of Iguala. Of the city’s debris-filled canal, she says, “The stagnant water smelled worse than a dead animal” (47). The darkest imagery, however, appears in Chapter 8 during Reyna’s visit with her paternal grandmother. Reyna is horrified when Abuela Evila scratches at her skin and claims maggots are eating her. The thought of her grandmother’s decomposing flesh being eaten alive is more than she can bear. Reyna then learns that Abuela Evila had measles as a child and that her mother had to pull maggots out of the open sores. Recognizing the parallels between her and her grandmother, Reyna casts the disturbing imagery in a positive light: “For years now, I had been plucking at the invisible sores in my heart. The wounds of my childhood had festered and would not heal. But, just like my grandmother, I had found the strength to survive” (65).