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Gabi, Fragmentos de Una Adolescente / Gabi, a Girl in Pieces
Paperback
Publisher Price: $14.95
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ISBN10: 0593082265
ISBN13: 9780593082263
Publisher: Vintage Espanol
Published: Sep 1 2020
Pages: 288
Weight: 0.66
Height: 0.90 Width: 5.10 Depth: 7.90
Language: Spanish
ISBN13: 9780593082263
Publisher: Vintage Espanol
Published: Sep 1 2020
Pages: 288
Weight: 0.66
Height: 0.90 Width: 5.10 Depth: 7.90
Language: Spanish
Gabi aún no entiende quién es. Escribir la ayudará a juntar sus pedazos.
Gabi Hernández está en su último año de la preparatoria. Para entretenerse, escribe todo lo que le pasa en su diario: las solicitudes a las universidades, el embarazo de Cindy, cuando Sebastián salió del clóset, los chicos guapos de su clase, la adicción de su padre a la metanfetamina, y toda la comida que se le antoja. Pero lo mejor de todo lo que escribe es la poesÃa que la ayuda a ser quien es. 24 de julio
Gabi Hernández está en su último año de la preparatoria. Para entretenerse, escribe todo lo que le pasa en su diario: las solicitudes a las universidades, el embarazo de Cindy, cuando Sebastián salió del clóset, los chicos guapos de su clase, la adicción de su padre a la metanfetamina, y toda la comida que se le antoja. Pero lo mejor de todo lo que escribe es la poesÃa que la ayuda a ser quien es. 24 de julio
Mi madre me llamó Gabriela en honor de mi abuela materna, quien, por cierto, no quiso conocerme cuando nacà porque mi mamá no estaba casada, es decir, vivÃa en pecado. Mi mamá me contó muchas, muchas, muchas veces cómo mi abuela la golpeó cuando le confesó que estaba embarazada de mÃ. Le dio una paliza! A los veinticinco años. Esa historia es la base de mi educación sexual. Cada vez que salgo con alguien, mi mamá dice, Ojos abiertos, piernas cerradas. Hasta ahà llega la conversación de las abejitas y las flores. Y por mà está bien, aun si no estoy enteramente de acuerdo con toda esa basura de esperar hasta que te cases. O sea, esto es Estados Unidos y es el siglo XXI, no México hace cien años. Pero, claro, no se lo puedo decir a mi mamá porque pensarÃa que soy mala. O peor: que intento ser blanca. ENGLISH DESCRIPTION Named to Kirkus Reviews Best Books of 2014
Named to School Library Journal Best Books of 2014
Gabi Hernandez chronicles her last year in high school in her diary: college applications, Cindy's pregnancy, Sebastian's coming out, the cute boys, her father's meth habit, and the food she craves. And best of all, the poetry that helps forge her identity.
July 24
My mother named me Gabriella, after my grandmother who, coincidentally, didn't want to meet me when I was born because my mother was unmarried, and therefore living in sin. My mom has told me the story many, many, MANY, times of how, when she confessed to my grandmother that she was pregnant with me, her mother beat her. BEAT HER! She was twenty-five. That story is the basis of my sexual education and has reiterated why it's important to wait until you're married to give it up. So now, every time I go out with a guy, my mom says, Ojos abiertos, piernas cerradas. Eyes open, legs closed. That's as far as the birds and the bees talk has gone. And I don't mind it. I don't necessarily agree with that whole wait until you're married crap, though. I mean, this is America and the 21st century; not Mexico one hundred years ago. But, of course, I can't tell my mom that because she will think I'm bad. Or worse: trying to be White.
Named to School Library Journal Best Books of 2014
Gabi Hernandez chronicles her last year in high school in her diary: college applications, Cindy's pregnancy, Sebastian's coming out, the cute boys, her father's meth habit, and the food she craves. And best of all, the poetry that helps forge her identity.
July 24
My mother named me Gabriella, after my grandmother who, coincidentally, didn't want to meet me when I was born because my mother was unmarried, and therefore living in sin. My mom has told me the story many, many, MANY, times of how, when she confessed to my grandmother that she was pregnant with me, her mother beat her. BEAT HER! She was twenty-five. That story is the basis of my sexual education and has reiterated why it's important to wait until you're married to give it up. So now, every time I go out with a guy, my mom says, Ojos abiertos, piernas cerradas. Eyes open, legs closed. That's as far as the birds and the bees talk has gone. And I don't mind it. I don't necessarily agree with that whole wait until you're married crap, though. I mean, this is America and the 21st century; not Mexico one hundred years ago. But, of course, I can't tell my mom that because she will think I'm bad. Or worse: trying to be White.
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