Bloom: A Short Story of Poverty and Identity
My name is Gabrielle, and I am a product of the so-called “American Dream.” I was born of an uneducated family, and I am first of that line to break the chain of teen pregnancy. More importantly, I am the first to attend college. My paternal grandfather passed away when my father was just seven. Being the oldest, my father was forced to drop out of the third grade and support his mother and siblings. And then, when he was fourteen, he left his ranch-house in Tamazula de Gordiano, Jalisco, Mexico, to “make something of himself” by migrating to America.
But it was not until recently that I began to wonder what my life would look like had my grandfather lived. These thoughts are futile, but I can’t help but wonder: would my own father still be illiterate? And if not, would he still have entered America under the same conditions, and would I have found reason to write this? Would my parents have met? It is through this story, my father’s story— a deeply rooted bloom of self discovery— that I hope to put these thoughts to rest.
ENG 211 Survey of American Literature
James Watson
PFB 114
1:00 – 2:00 PM