​¡Ajúa! That’s How Reading’s Done

​¡Ajúa! That’s How Reading’s Done by ​René Saldaña Jr.

René Saldaña Jr. is an American poet, novelist and educator. Currently, he is an associate professor of language and literature in the College of Education at Texas Tech University. He is also the author of several books for young readers, best known for The Jumping Tree and The Whole Sky Full of Stars. His publications have received many positive reviews and recognition from several literary circles.

Most importantly, Rene is a great colleague. I look forward to the opportunity to chat with him at every NCTE Conference. I hope you enjoy his recommendations for reading during Hispanic Heritage Month.

I’d be remiss if I didn’t open this piece with a grito, the Mexican battle cry by Father Miguel Hidaldo, a call to arms against Spanish rule. Here, though, we’re celebrating Brown books, and so my grito: ¡Qué viva la lectura! ¡Qué vivan los libros! ¡Qu´ vivan los lectores! ¡Qué vivan las lectoras! ¡Ajúa¡ 

Tasked with selecting a couple of titles to highlight during Hispanic Heritage Month is both easy and difficult. Easy because there is so much beautiful work in print to date. Difficult for the same reason: there is so much of it now (though there needs to be more of it! Of the 3,200 books submitted to CCBC by U.S. publishers in 2023, only 291 titles were “about” Brown subject matter. A dismal number considering that the number hasn’t really improved by much since 2018 when that number was 244). But boy! The quality of what’s out there already and continues to be published.

A list of fiction our escuincles should get their hands on, though not a comprehensive one:
 
Pocho by José Antonio Villarreal (1970)
…y no se lo tragó la tierra by Tomás Rivera (1971)
Bless Me, Ultima by Rudolfo Anaya (1972)
The House on Mango Street by Sandra Cisneros (1984)
Rainbow’s End by Genaro Gonzalez (1988)

As for verse:

“I Am Joaquin/Yo soy Joaquín” by Rodolfo “Corky” Gonzales (1967)
A Fire in my Hands by Gary Soto (1991)
My Own True Name by Pat Mora (2003)
Sonnets and Salsa by Carmen Tafolla (2004)

A seemingly brief list. There are more: Xavier Garza, Ruben Degollado, Diana López, Matt de la Peña, Viola Canales, Claudia Guadalupe Martinez, many more. Forgive my oversight. These are just my go-to Brown writers.

Note, too, that I’ve selected writers and poets who identify as Mexican American, Chicano/a, or a variation, but with a jumpstart in Mexico. It’s intentional, my choice. Each in their own way (some more obvious than others) are seminal writers in the Brown movement. There are more who I’m overlooking, apologies, again. If I were asked, though, what 10 titles would I take with me if I could only grab that many off my shelf the night La Llorona were to come after me, I’d bolt with those on my list. And believe you me, if I were accompanied by a fellow reader who could carry his or her own titles and they included books by those in my other list (Garza, Degollado, etc.), I’d trip him so that La Llorona would abscond with him, leaving behind his mochila azúl heavy with his books, and I’d snatch it and run. I’d be set. Sneaky, sneaky.

Here's the thing, though: it’s one thing to celebrate Brown books, but these books, any and all books for that matter, are nothing without readers. Wenndy Pray, a librarian who is also a student of mine working on her PhD in Language, Diversity & Literacy Studies at Texas Tech University, posted a photo on Instagram recently. In it there are a good ten smiling and happy Brown faces of lectores. Check it out: they’re readers, active and engaged. Proving that stereotype way wrong. What we’ve been shooting for these last couple decades. They aren’t reading from off the lists above, though. Instead they’re reading Diary of a Wimpy Kid, Trouble According to Humphrey, Full Court Dreams, Cinder, and Dork Diaries.

Am I worried that they aren’t choosing titles from the lists above? Several years ago I would be. To this day I know it in my heart of hearts that when a kid doesn’t opt for a book when given the choice there’s good reason. Often, it’s because they’ve read a very one-sided narrative from the beginning of their reading lives. I know also that if they read something culturally relevant to them that the chances of them picking up the reading act increase tremendously. But these kids are already readers. They’ll grab hold of Anaya then Cisneros in graduate school like happened with me. But with me it was more an introduction to books as if for the very first time. Wait! Esperanza Cordero’s story is my own. Where’s she been all my life? With these kids, they’ll pick up any one of the writers I mentioned, but pick them up as Literature, no different from the Classics.

I see the smiles on the faces of these lectores, and I can’t help but give a grito of my own. ¡Ajúa! That’s how it’s done.