A Dream Called Home

Reyna’s identity as an immigrant is central to her memoir. She immigrates to the US at the age of nine after two failed attempts to cross the border. From the time she arrives, she struggles to fit into her new culture. In the fifth grade, for example, Reyna’s grasp of English is so poor she writes a Spanish-language story for a school contest, only for it to be rejected and unread. She continues to feel like an outsider on UCSC’s predominantly white campus, as evidenced by her discomfort at the campus co-op and local grocery store, which sell unfamiliar food. Although Mexico is her country of birth, Reyna does not belong there in the eyes of her relatives, who treat her like an Americanized foreigner. In short, Reyna feels marginalized no matter where she goes: “For years, I had struggled to fit in, to learn the language and culture, to find my way. But no matter how hard I tried, I still felt like a foreigner” (36).

Reyna begins to see her dual identity as an asset at UCSC. Marta plays a critical role in this regard. She explains to Reyna that people treat her differently because she is, in fact, different. Unlike her Mexican relatives—and most Americans—Reyna is bilingual, bicultural, and binational. In addition to making her stand out wherever she goes, her differences make her more, not less than others. Erica also helps Reyna grow more comfortable with her dual identity. With her confidence bolstered, Reyna continues to write about her reality as an immigrant, even when others critique this choice. Meeting other Latino students, joining a campus folklórico group, studying Spanish for Spanish speakers, and taking a Chicano literature course foster a sense of belonging without forcing Reyna to sacrifice her cultural heritage. Reyna embraces her immigrant identity further with the help of Micah and María. The former supervises her senior project, which later becomes her first novel, Across a Hundred Mountains, while the latter encourages her to find her voice and apply to the Emerging Voices program. The key to Reyna’s success as a writer is her ability to hold onto her heritage, while deftly navigating American culture. 

Immigration tore the Grande family apart. Natalio’s immigration, combined with Juana’s decision to follow him two years later, leaves Reyna and her siblings to navigate the world without parents. Abuela Evila is their primary caretaker during this period. In addition to being physically and emotionally abusive, she keeps the children hungry, dirty, and in rags. Reyna describes her years in Abuela Evila’s care in vivid terms: “We had to watch [Juana] walk away from us, wondering if we would ever see her again. Then we went inside Abuela Evila’s house to endure two-and-a-half years of hell” (45).

Being abandoned a second time by her mother compounds Reyna’s trauma. Reyna is initially overjoyed when her mother returns to Iguala, describing it as “one of the happiest days of my life” (45). Her happiness ends abruptly, however, when her mother runs off to Acapulco with a man. Not even Abuelita Chinta can ease the pain of being abandoned a second time: “My maternal grandmother did her best to make up for the pain of my mother’s absence. But no matter how much Abuelita Chinta loved us–it wasn’t enough” (45).

Reyna’s abandonment as a child causes deep emotional wounds that last well into adulthood. Almost every man she dates before Cory is a surrogate for her father. At PCC, she becomes infatuated with a maintenance worker because his uniform, dark skin, and bulging veins remind her of her father. Gabe’s sunburned face and soiled garments also make Reyna think of her father, as do Arturo and Francisco’s skin tones, calloused hands, and broken English. Not coincidentally, these men are significantly older than Reyna. Betty seeks the affection of older men for similar reasons. As Reyna notes, “Since our parents rarely showed any tenderness toward us, we had to look outside of home to find it” (53). Reyna and her siblings become good, present parents, in large part because they knew how it feels to be abandoned.