Minerva is only a little bit older than Esperanza, but she has two children, 
        who she is raising alone since her husband left, just like Minerva's father 
        left her mother. Minerva and her husband fight and make up very frequently, 
        and she comes to Esperanza's house black and blue, and asks her what to 
        do. She and Esperanza often read their poems to each other, and are friends, 
        but Esperanza doesn't know what to tell her. 
 Minerva's situation serves as another cautionary tale for Esperanza, 
        who, though she is her friend, refuses to get too close to her. When Minerva 
        asks for her advice, she simply says, There is nothing I can do. 
        Her emphasis on the I, like the emphasis she places on Minerva's crying 
        and praying, suggest that Esperanza believes Minerva could help herself, 
        if she would only stop crying and praying and simply kick her unreliable 
        husband out for good. This chapter has a singsong, rhyming quality that 
        reinforces Minerva's almost comically predictable life pattern: her husband 
        leaves, she cries, he comes back and she accepts him, he leaves, she cries, 
        etc.. 
 Esperanza has stopped going along on weekends when her family drives 
        by the big houses her father works at, staring admiringly. She feels ashamed 
        of their obvious envy, though she does not let her family know this. She 
        is sick of being jealous, and of listening to her mother say, When we 
        win the lottery... She is determined to get her own house, and be welcoming 
        to less fortunate people---unlike the people her father works for. She 
        says she will happily invite bums to live in her attic. 
 Esperanza has matured enough that she realizes dreams alone do not accomplish 
        anything. It is telling that she does not believe that once she becomes 
        rich she will be a different person; rather, she will purposely try to 
        hold on to parts of her background and personality. The simplicity with 
        which the chapter is told reflects her strong views: when people ask her 
        what those noises are in the attic, she says she will tell them, 'Bums,' 
        and I'll be happy. 
 Esperanza's mother reassures her that one day her clothes will stay 
        clean and she will look neater. Esperanza is not so sure she wants this, 
        however. She does not want to be docile and pretty; she wants to be beautiful 
        and cruel, using her sexuality to control men, like a woman from the 
        movies. 
 Esperanza's need for independence has become very keen. She does not 
        want to take care of anyone. She is wary of men because of the way they 
        control the women around her, but she also wants to be like them because 
        of their power. The fact that she wants to be like a woman in the movies, 
        with red lips, however, alerts the reader to Esperanza's vulnerability 
        and remaining fear. She does not want a loving, equal relationship with 
        a man--she wants to control them the way they control her and her friends. 
        
 Esperanza's mother tells her to stay in school, so that she can be independent 
        and realize her ambitions. Her mother tells her that she herself left 
        school young because she was ashamed of her shabby clothing. Disgusted 
        with herself now, she urges Esperanza not to make the same mistake. 
 Mrs. Cordero's intelligence is counterbalanced by Esperanza's own ideas 
        of her mother--as a woman who cannot even take the train downtown alone. 
        Her mother's present situation reinforces her advice: she has clearly 
        fallen short of her potential. Her strong words and thoughtful speeches 
        make this fact even more unfortunate. The reader experiences Esperanza's 
        dismay at this woman, who can sing with lungs powerful as morning glories, 
        making oatmeal for her family. 
 Clapsaddle, Diane. "TheBestNotes on A Long Way Gone". 
          TheBestNotes.com.
            
            
            
            
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