The fact is, the lives of the Garcías weren’t very similar to my very own. I arrived within the United States after I was three, so I couldn’t relate to the traumas of being a brand new immigrant; I didn’t keep in mind sufficient of the “old country” to actually yearn for it as they did. But I relished and latched on to all the things I acknowledged: Spanish phrases or phrases particular to Dominican slang (“antojo”; “jamona”; “U’té que sabe”); the truth that everybody had a nickname (“Lolo”; “Mundín”); and that the dad and mom had been known as “Mami” and “Papi” as an alternative of Mom and Dad. The ladies, like cousins of mine who got here to America later than I did, had been positioned in a grade beneath their age group to make up for his or her lack of English. Carla, the eldest, wears her hair in a “tubie, using her head as a large roller,” and when Yolanda returns to the Dominican Republic, her aunts lament that she and her sister “get lost” within the United States, which is to say that they keep away and don’t come house.
The García ladies lived in a family the place “the rules were as strict as for Island girls, but there was no island to make up the difference,” their dad and mom “worried they were going to lose their girls to America.” This latter concern, particularly, loomed over my childhood — that I’d develop into too courageous, too free or too free. I used to be threatened with “island confinement” if I stepped out of line, a risk the García ladies’ mom adopted by on when she discovered a bag of marijuana behind her daughter’s dresser. When the Papi within the e-book, prepared for an evening out, turns to the ladies and says, in a present of charming conceitedness, “A handsome man, your Papi,” he may have been my father, feeling himself after a recent haircut.
“García Girls” depicted, additionally, the troubling elements of my group, particularly the ingrained colorism. Sandra is essentially the most lovely sister as a result of of her blue eyes and “peaches and ice cream skin,” whereas Sofía, the youngest, “was considered the plain one, with her tall, big-boned body and large-featured face”; Sofía introduced “good blood” into the household by marrying a German with “fair Nordic looks.” The maids had been all brown or “black-black” and from the nation, campesinas who, in some ways, had been iterations of me.
Alvarez rendered my actuality a bit extra tangible by placing it in phrases, however greater than validation, the e-book proved to be premonition. Yo’s concern that she “would never find someone who would understand my peculiar mix of Catholicism and agnosticism, Hispanic and American styles,” would come up for me in school, when my upbringing grew to become a marker of distinction. As an grownup, I returned to my little island, discovering, like Yo, “what she has been missing all these years without really knowing that she has been missing it.”
Alvarez’s novels had been an alternate schooling. Through the García ladies, I discovered about feminism, and my emotions of injustice, which had all the time been dismissed as childhood naïveté, had been reaffirmed. I checked out extra titles by Alvarez: “In the Time of the Butterflies,” a lyrical work of historic fiction primarily based on the story of the Mirabal sisters, revolutionary heroes who had opposed and fought towards Trujillo, solely to be brutally tortured and murdered by him; and “In the Name of Salomé,” informed from the twin views of the famed Dominican poet, Salomé Ureña, and her daughter, Camila, a queer author.