I believe this picture represents the thematic motif of identity in more ways than one. A lot of times we attempt to figure out who we are based on other people’s opinion, but when we are alone we can’t find the right words. We try to think of one word but we fail to realize that who we are is not based off of any words or anyone else’s opinion. I chose this picture because everyone has been in a similar position at one point in their life, including myself. You might not have taped a couple of poorly painted words and a question mark to the wall and stare at them needlessly. However, this really represents the time you need to yourself to figure out who you are as person, not the image other people perceive of you. As time goes on, and maturity starts to progress, you eventually will find that identity that is truly who you are. Esperanza dealt with all of these challenges and began to learn this, just as we do. What you do with your identity and abilities after you discover them, becomes entirely up to you.

Credit: http://kaurthoughts.wordpress.com/2013/09/10/a-kaur-identity-crisis/

In Sandra Cisneros vignette titled “My Name” (page 11), we see how Esperanza feels about herself and her name. I believe that everyone can learn from her statement that “[She] inherited [her great-grandmother’s] name, but [she] did not want to inherit her place by the window.” Despite it sounding silly to feel pressured into following someone’s footsteps just because you inherited their name, many people actually believe this. However, a name is only something to identify you by. It might identify you but it does not mean that it decides your identity as well. Who you are as person does not come from a name. While you can  hold characteristics of the meaning your name means, it also does mean that you hold every single characteristic. It almost resembles as zodiac sign. A zodiac sign does not define who you are as a person, but you can hold characteristics that your zodiac sign has. Fortunately, Esperanza has decided not to let a name that she inherited from someone who isn’t even still alive. No one should, for that matter.

In Sandra Cisneros novel The House on Mango Street, the character Esperanza is most represented by the son Follow My Feet by The Unlikely Candidates.

Throughout the novel, on of the thematic motifs that can be depicted is identity. Esperanza struggles throughout the novel with maturing and who she is as a person. In The Unlikely Candidates song Follow My Feet it sings in the first verse, ” There’s a fork in the road in front of me at the crossroads of identity. The Devil is standing to the left. He says, ‘Either way, they both lead to death.'” We learn in the vignette “Born Bad” that because Esperanza was born on a certain day of the year, she will go to hell. No matter how Esperanza lives, she truly believes that no matter how she lives, she is cursed.

As a result, we see Esperanza attempting to make her own decisions about the way she wants to grow up. Similarly, in the chorus of The Unlikely Candidates song it continues, “And the high road’s steady and steep. And the low road’s easy and deep. Guess I’ll follow, follow, follow my feet.” We also see in the novel that Esperanza wants to break away from conformity and the sexism that surrounds her to be her own person. Through this she discovers herself through the path she takes and through her maturing.

While Esperanza has probably never come across a song such as Follow My Feet by The Unlikely Candidates, it applies to her life and the thematic motif that Sandra Cisneros carries throughout the novel.

Follow My Feet by The Unlikely Candidates

Perception

Clumsy feet and large shoes

Overdressed in a brand new dress

Hot wish blushing and the center stage

This is not how they view you

Swift dancing with large shoes

Courageous to dress up

Bright with excitement from the center stage

Perception

Dear Mrs. Cordero,
I am writing you this letter to lift your spirits. While it occurred to you that it is too late to be somebody, I am writing to tell you that you are wrong. You might have been a smart cookie back then, and if that is the case, then you have not lost aspect. The question is, do you still want to be someone or are you going to stand by and let society hold its sexist cloud above your head? While I understand that it can be very difficult to break away from so many people’s expectations, but nothing is impossible. If you truly wanted to be someone memorable, you could do so. It might take some criticism, work,, and guts but it is not out of anyone’s reach to put their good knowledge to use. You have just as much of a chance to become someone as your daughter. It might sound crazy with household chores, children, and a husband to tend to. However, I believe that anything is possible, even in adulthood. Don’t let the false statement that “you can’t teach an old dog new tricks” define what you do with your life.
Sincerely,
Beth Peterson

In Sandra Cisneros novel “The House on Mango Street,” Cisneros explores the thematic motif of identity throughout the novel through her character Esperanza.
For example, in the vignette titled “The House on Mango Street,” Esperanza is faced with considering her identity for the first time when she judged based off of where she live. Although she does not retaliate, she simply says, “There. I lived there. I nodded” (The House on Mango Street 5). She feels ashamed that she has to admit that that is where she lives. For the first time, she questions her identity because of the house she had to point to when she was asked where she lived. While she can’t point to different places, she decides that in the future she wants to move to a place that she can point to, and feel proud of where she comes from and who she is.
Furthermore, Esperanza feels the same way about her responsibilities. She feels that her responsibility of taking care of, and raising, her sister makes her “a red balloon, a balloon tied to an anchor (Boys & Girls 9).” This also defines her role in the family and who she is as a sibling. This lets the reader know how she feels about her own identity, and who she wishes she could be. She claims that “someday [she] will have a best friend all [her] own.” While a best friend will not solve all her problems, she believes that who she is will improve if she has someone to tell secrets to and guide her. She not only lets the reader know about her own feelings about her own identity, but the outsiders opinion as well by stating: “Those who don’t know any better come in to our neighborhood scared. They think we’re dangerous. They think we will attack them with shiny knives” (Those Who Don’t 28). She knows that these opinions are not true but uses them to show how an identity can be warped through an outsiders perspective.
Also, she explores identity through superstitions. Esperanza mentions that according to an old Chinese tale, because Esperanza was born a certain time of year, she is cursed. She says, “Most likely I will go to hell and most likely I deserve to be there. My mother says I was born on an evil day and prays for me” (Born Bad 58). While this may sound ridiculous, Esperanza truly believes that her identity is related to what day of the year she was born. In light of all this, she decides that she will not grow up like other people, and become a fierce woman. For example in the vignette Beautiful & Cruel, she states, “I have began my own quiet war. Simple. I am on who leaves the table like a man, without putting back the chair or picking up the plate” (Beautiful & Cruel 89). She is determined to be independent, and becomes her own person. She believes that other people simply do as they’re told and wait to have their heads cut off. Leaving the table without putting her chair back is simply her way of saying that she will not be like the others and rise against expectations.
Through all of this, Esparanza learns that she has the ability to do whatever she sets her mind to, and who she is as a person. Sandra Cisneros uses Esperanza uses the thematic motif of identity to relate to her readers on another level.

People bustled around backstage like ants for their queen. Girls lined the practice bar, and when they left, the bar was slightly damper than it was when the last girl was there. My face felt caked with the makeup my mom had applied. My feet were already starting to flex subconsciously, working their muscles loose in the tiny tan flats I wore. All the feet around me were in their signature v-shape, as they had been trained to do since they first learned how to walk. Moms were running around frantically trying to get costume pieces, makeup, dance shoes, or any bottles of water they could conjure for their dancer.
Suddenly an explosion of applause and cheering came from behind the doors I was entrapped in. As if on cue, the butterflies in my stomach awoken from their hive, and began pushing, trying to push their way out. No matter how many mental commands I gave them to stop, they seemed to grow even more rabid.
“Ladies, ladies! Get in line please, it’s our turn. Big smiles, please!” Mrs. Nancy chanted the three sentences with each group of girls she found with purple dresses. Fifteen tiny feet in tan flats, including mine, scampered into a line awaiting the cue to sashay onto the stage. The ceaseless talking turned to whispers in an instant, and it became night behind stage.
However, in front, the line begin sashaying, and all fifteen girls walked onto a stage with multiple suns shining down on us. Beyond the suns, only pitch black was visible. The suns kept the dark at arms length, and left the stage gleaming.
Once we were positioned on the stage, a piano began playing throughout the entire auditorium. Our feet begin to point, and our arms stretched with every turn our feet made. A few of the girls stumbled over and blushed a crimson red, but they managed to turn to the dancer next to them and get back on track. Nobody cared about the mistakes, because Mrs. Nancy said that nobody expected too much out of a group of 9 year olds. It seemed like a kind thing to say at the time, but as I turned circles and circles on the stage, it dawned on me that we had no expectations other than to make a mistake.
So I didn’t make one.
I finished with the final turn and stretch of the arms, gave my best picture smile, and sashayed with the other 15 girls off the stage. I succeeded in keeping a perfect performance, and felt my butterflies return to the hive they came from. Mrs. Nancy was waiting, clapping her hands and whisper-shouting praise at us as each one of us passed by her. As I passed by Mrs. Nancy, my picture smile faded and turned into a smirk as I recalled the expectations that I had set for myself. I would not tell the others my expectations, though. Mrs. Nancy said the only way to succeed was to stay ahead of the game.

Glitter, sequins, and shiny material covered the floor next to the old fashioned closet. Six tiny girls screamed and giggled through the collection of scarves, dresses, and large high heels, myself included. No girl looked alike. Blonde hair, brunettes, and red heads scampered around the small room with a loud debate over which make-believe they should play this time. It was either play ball at the castle again, or for once we could play something that Amy, the youngest, wanted to play. This usually consisted of playing school or working in a “real” job. Her ideas were almost always put to rest, due to the fact that the other five girls were insistent that they were to be a princess. The queen got the privilege of sitting on top of the remote controlled bed which would raise the head of the bed until the queen could literally sit above the headboard. This did not include the massage the queen received from the bed. The argument over who got to actually be the queen was always to most heated debate when all six girls stayed over at Nana’s house. Nine times out of ten, Nana had to make the decision for us. Usually competitions were held and we all competed until our repeated pleas for just one more competition were turned down. The queen was decided, while the five others groaned in despair. However, it wasn’t long until our tiny feet were padding down the hallway to get the grand ball underway and begin dancing. Laughter and screaming would fills the halls of the house again.