Predict
Arturo’s teacher changes his name. How will Arturo react?
My name’s Arturo, “Turo” for short. For my father, and my grandfather, and his father, back and back. Arturos—like stacks of strong adobe bricks, forever, my grandmother says.
Really, my name was Arturo. Here’s why: Three years ago our family came up from Mexico to L.A. From stories they’d heard, my parents were worried for our safety in “that hard-as-a-fist Los Angeles.” But Papi needed better work.
Rosa, my little sister, wailed, “’Nighted States, no! Too dark!” My brother, Luis, and I pretty much clammed up. I guess numbed by the thought of leaving our home, and a little scared, too, about the tough barrio.