Ángel

BASIC INFO	LANGUAGE LEVEL	COMPREHENSION-AIDING FEATURES
Book Title Ángel (Angel) Authors: Bill VanPatten Illustrator n/a Other Contributors Cover designed by Adam Gammons Genres Fantasy Publisher: Input and More Publication date: 2016 #OwnVoices: The author and the protagonist both grew up Latinx in California.	Level From the author/publisher’s website Intermediate / Advanced 53 pages	Illustrations NO Glossary NO Guiding Questions NO Context NO Other

IDENTITIES PRESENT IN THE TEXT		SYNOPSIS
Races, Ethnicities, and Nationalities Latinx / Mexican-American Languages spoken Spanish English Sex and Genders Female Male (main character) Ages Teenager: 13-18 Young Adult: 18-35 Mid-life Adult: 35-65 Social classes Upper class	Sexual Orientation Asexual Heterosexual (Dis)Abilities and Neurotypes Neurodivergent Neurotypical Other: Diego has special abilities that are not available to most people. Religions, Syncretism, and Spirituality Christian: Diego uses Catholic imagery and does not identify as religious. Relationship and Family Structures Heteroparental Single parent Body Descriptions Diego describes himself: “Soy de estatura mediana, con pelo moreno, ojos color de café espresso. No soy ni fuerte ni débil, ni gordo ni flaco. Soy regular” / I’m of medium height, with dark hair and coffee-colored eyes. I’m neither strong nor weak, nor fat nor thin. I’m regular (p. 1). Diego’s body also grows wings over time. Diego describes his father: “Su pelo era corto, su faz morena. Parecía latino, quizás de ascendencia mexicana, de unos 40 años. No era muy alto” / His hair was short, his face dark. He looked latino, perhaps of Mexican descent, around 40 years old (p. 11). Diego describes his mother: “Su pelo medio rubio-moreno oscilaba… Desde mi perspectiva se veía pequeña, frágil–una figura delgada…” / Her medium-length, blond/brown hair waved [in the wind]… from my perspective she looked small, fragile–a thin figure (p. 15).	From the back of the book or the author/publisher’s website “Me llamo Diego Torres, pero mi madre siempre me dice “Ángel.” No sé por qué. No soy religioso, y ahora que tengo 19 años, no me gusta ese nombre.” So begins “Ángel,” written by award-winning teacher and scholar Bill VanPatten. Diego Torres is a student at UC Berkeley. Smart but quiet, he harbors a secret until circumstances force him to reveal what he’s hiding. Poignant, timely, and defying stereotypes and genres, “Ángel” is the story that every student in Spanish should read. “Ángel” is a captivating text for both intermediate and advanced students of Spanish that consists of nine segments plus a prologue and an epilogue.

ILLUSTRATIONS	STORY	SOCIAL JUSTICE
To what extent do the illustrations present positive and thoughtful representations of identities? N/A	We understand identities are complex and no single story represents the spectrum of identity-based experiences. Also, a text may address a stereotype, misrepresentation, or generalization without relying on it. *Does any stereotype, misrepresentation, or generalization affect any positive and thoughtful representations of identities in the text?* Yes: Problems faced by characters with an identity belonging to a marginalized group are resolved through the benevolent intervention of a white person, a male, a straight person, a body-abled person, etc. (saviorism): The mother’s problems are solved by her son. Female characters are not in a variety of roles that could also be filled by a male character.	This section is for teachers who are working towards sourcing more texts within the four domains of anti-bias education. We are excited about reading all books and we understand that not all books are written for this specific purpose. *Does this text work toward goals within any of the* four domains of anti-bias education as defined by Learning for Justice? Yes: Identity: Promote a healthy self-concept and exploration of identity.: Promotes healthy self-concepts regarding neurodivergent and asexual spectrum identities, as well as adding to the diversity of Latinx characters in texts. Justice: Raise awareness of prejudice and injustice.: Character discusses prejudices against Mexican-American communities.

LLLAB’s REVIEW
Ángel is a story of Diego Torres, a Mexican-American teen in Northern California, whose mother has nicknamed him “Ángel.” Diego explores his identities and discovers his family history. His curiosity about his father’s identity ultimately merges with his own self-discovery as he finds out that both he and his father are angels with special gifts and the talent to see into the interior lives of others in order to provide healing for them. A/sexual and possibly neurodivergent identities On the dedication page, the author writes, “This story is dedicated to all young people who struggle or have struggled to fit in. It always gets better” (page unnumbered). The story provides representation of a young person who self-identifies on the asexual (“ace”) spectrum, as Diego explains: “No tengo novia. No me interesan las chicas. Tampoco me interesan los chicos, si eso es lo que estás pensando. Nunca he besado a nadie y no he experimentado el sexo. Creo que soy asexual–o quizás mi ‘regalo’ me inhibe los impulsos que tienen los demás de mi edad” / I don’t have a girlfriend. Girls don’t interest me. Guys don’t interest me either, if that’s what you’re thinking. I’ve never kissed anyone and I haven’t experienced sex. I think I’m asexual–or perhaps my ‘gift’ inhibits for me the impulses that other people my age have (p. 6). Diego’s asexual identification may resonate with some readers. About the ‘regalo’ / gift that he references, Diego explains, “tengo algo de especial: un sexto sentido extraordinario” / I have something special: an extraordinary sixth sense (p. 1), and that “lo que pasa es que cada vez que conozco a una persona, percibo sus pensamientos…” / what happens is that each time that I meet someone, I perceive their thoughts (p. 6). As a result, Diego says he prefers not to look at people in the eye in order to avoid seeing into their interior worlds (e.g. pp. 1-2, 5). Although Ángel does not explicitly name neurodivergence, aspects of Diego’s heightened sensitivity may resonate with some neurodivergent readers. The text provides a model of a young person who self-advocates with a person in power about his unique way of experiencing the world: In a conversation with his professor, Diego asserts, “‘A lo mejor le parecerá que estoy loco pero no… Es que puedo ver dentro de otras personas’” / “It might seem to you that I am crazy, but I’m not… It’s that I can see inside other people” (p. 34). The story takes a fantasy twist when Diego discovers that he has inherited an alterhuman, angelic identity from his father. As his father explains to him, “No somos de este mundo” / We aren’t of this world (p. 26). The story may thus serve to discount the representation of real humans who identify on the ace spectrum and/or who experience neurodivergence-related sensitivities, since the text ultimately places Diego’s experiences outside the realm of ordinary humanity. Cultural religious imaginary Diego refers to his mother as “La Virgen Sobre la Roca” / The Virgin on the Rock (pp. 15, 30, 31). His nickname, “Ángel,” turns out to be a hint at his identity as Diego discovers that he and his father really are angels. Notably, Diego self-identifies as not religious (p. 1). Many Spanish speakers, including those who are not themselves religious, may find this Catholic imagery of “la Virgen” and angels to be familiar and representative of aspects of their cultures. Stereotypes and prejudices about nationality, ethnicity and social class Ángel plays with stereotypes about Mexican-Americans in the United States. On the one hand, Diego breaks several stereotypes about Latinxs by being a U.S.-American citizen, wealthy, and educated. On the other hand, the character reinforces some stereotypes as he seems to imply that he is better than those “other” Mexican-Americans who are working class or poor. Diego describes his dual-national U.S. American-Mexican identity and the stereotypes and assumptions that he encounters from members of the dominant culture: “Ahora soy tan americano como mexicano. Pero muchos me miran con ojos sospechos. Por un momento, se preguntan, ‘¿Legal o ilegal?’ A veces piensan que soy obrero, o jardinero, o cocinero en Denny’s, que mis padres reciben ayuda del gobierno, que todo lo tengo por affirmative action, que tengo cinco o más hermanos, que vendo drogas… No saben que soy ciudadano de este país, alfabeto en dos lenguas, y que estudio en Berkeley” / Now I am as [U.S.] American as Mexican. But many times people look at me with suspicious eyes. For a moment, they ask themselves, “Legal or illegal?” At times they think that I’m a [blue-collar] worker, or gardener, or cook in Denny’s [restaurant]; that I got everything because of affirmative action; that I have five or more siblings; that I sell drugs… They don’t know that I am a citizen of this country, literate in two languages, and that I’m studying at [the University of California at] Berkeley (p. 3). Shortly thereafter, after discussing his expensive seaside home, Diego refers to his car to imply that he views himself as superior to members of the working class: “Para mi cumple de 18 años, mi mamá me regaló un carro nuevo–un BMW Z4 descapotable. ¡Qué cocinero de Denny’s! ¿eh?” / For my 18th birthday, my mom gave me a new car–a convertible BMW Z4. Pretty good for [someone the dominant class assumes may be] a Denny’s cook, eh? (p. 4) By associating undocumented immigration status, working-class employment, governmental assistance, affirmative action, large families, and drug dealing with Mexican-American communities, and contrasting these descriptors with citizenship, multilingualism, and higher education, Diego may inadvertently reify a complicated web of nationalist and classist assumptions, false correlations, and false oppositions. Teachers may wish to discuss relevant demographic and sociological research to challenge the paradigms of the dominant culture that Diego seeks to critique. They may also wish to unpack the prejudices that Diego himself manifests through these comments. Diego may also reinforce stereotypes about appearance, race and ethnicity. He states that his father “looks Latino”: “Su pelo era corto, su faz morena. Parecía latino, quizás de ascendencia mexicana, de unos 40 años” / His hair was short, his face brown. He looked Latino, maybe of Mexican descent, approximately 40 years old (p. 11). These comments imply that all Latinxs look alike; teachers may wish to discuss with students that Latinx is an identity based on language and culture, not race. In the text, the author employs the term “americano” as synonymous with United States American (p. 3). Many Spanish speakers prefer the term “estadounidense” because “americano” can refer to anyone from the continent. See LLLAB’s statement on this topic. Gender stereotypes Diego’s mother has raised him alone, and a significant scene focuses on her tears: “En esa lágrima vi toda la carga que llevaba adentro. Una madre soltera. Una mujer que había perdido…” / In that tear, I saw all the burden that she carried inside. A single mother. A woman who had lost… (p. 31). The text seems to emphasize suffering without acknowledging that many people might find empowerment, independence, or fulfillment in solo parenting. In this way, the text reinforces a one-dimensional view of single motherhood, which fails to reflect the diverse ways in which solo parenting is experienced. The story presents an unchallenged view of Diego’s mother as a woman who “needs” to be under the care of another: “…ella temía que yo me fuera como mi papá, que la dejara sola en el mundo. La razón por la cual vivía era yo, y la dejaría para no volver. ‘No te preocupes,’ le dije mientras la mecía en mis brazos. ‘Siempre te cuidaré. Siempre estaré contigo.’ ‘¿Me lo prometes?’ preguntó entre sollozos. ‘Sí. Te lo prometo.’ … Y sentí en mis brazos que mi mamá se calmaba. Dejó de llorar…” / She was afraid that I would leave like my father did, that I would leave her alone in the world. I was the reason she was alive, and I would leave her and never return. “Don’t worry,” I told her while I rocked her in my arms. “I will always take care of you. I will always be with you.” “Do you promise?” she asked between sobs. “Yes. I promise you.” … And I felt in my arms that my mom was calming down. She stopped crying (pp. 31-32). This exchange may reify a view of women as helpless and as needing care from a male, whether from a son or a male partner. Consent In the text, Diego fails to seek consent before intentionally using his sixth sense to enter the personal space of his professor, both physically and psychologically: “Agarré su cara en mis manos y le miré directamente a los ojos. Y entré” / I took his face in my hands and I looked him directly in the eyes. And I entered [his interior psychological space] (p. 35). Once inside his professor’s interior world, Diego employs coercive force in the process of exercising his healing gifts: “Extendí unos brazos invisibles y envolví la imagen. Luchó contra mi abrazo, pero mantuve mi agarre” / I extended invisible arms and I wrapped them around the image [of suffering]. It fought against my embrace, but I maintained my hold (p. 35). The text challenges neither the protagonist’s failure to seek consent nor his use of unapproved force in this scene. Sociolinguistics of term “darkness” The author uses “darkness” as a symbol for something negative. In one scene, Diego finds images and memories inside another character. “Era una imagen envuelta en negro. Pero pude ver algo más. Una alegría enterrada al interior. Una imagen clara…” / It was an image wrapped in darkness. But I could see something more. A happiness buried inside. A light image (p. 35). The text equates darkness with sadness and happiness with light. This familiar literary trope can unconsciously reinforce racism.

LLLAB’s REVIEW

Ángel is a story of Diego Torres, a Mexican-American teen in Northern California, whose mother has nicknamed him “Ángel.” Diego explores his identities and discovers his family history. His curiosity about his father’s identity ultimately merges with his own self-discovery as he finds out that both he and his father are angels with special gifts and the talent to see into the interior lives of others in order to provide healing for them.

A/sexual and possibly neurodivergent identities

On the dedication page, the author writes, “This story is dedicated to all young people who struggle or have struggled to fit in. It always gets better” (page unnumbered).

The story provides representation of a young person who self-identifies on the asexual (“ace”) spectrum, as Diego explains: “No tengo novia. No me interesan las chicas. Tampoco me interesan los chicos, si eso es lo que estás pensando. Nunca he besado a nadie y no he experimentado el sexo. Creo que soy asexual–o quizás mi ‘regalo’ me inhibe los impulsos que tienen los demás de mi edad” / I don’t have a girlfriend. Girls don’t interest me. Guys don’t interest me either, if that’s what you’re thinking. I’ve never kissed anyone and I haven’t experienced sex. I think I’m asexual–or perhaps my ‘gift’ inhibits for me the impulses that other people my age have (p. 6). Diego’s asexual identification may resonate with some readers.

About the ‘regalo’ / gift that he references, Diego explains, “tengo algo de especial: un sexto sentido extraordinario” / I have something special: an extraordinary sixth sense (p. 1), and that “lo que pasa es que cada vez que conozco a una persona, percibo sus pensamientos…” / what happens is that each time that I meet someone, I perceive their thoughts (p. 6). As a result, Diego says he prefers not to look at people in the eye in order to avoid seeing into their interior worlds (e.g. pp. 1-2, 5). Although Ángel does not explicitly name neurodivergence, aspects of Diego’s heightened sensitivity may resonate with some neurodivergent readers.

The text provides a model of a young person who self-advocates with a person in power about his unique way of experiencing the world: In a conversation with his professor, Diego asserts, “‘A lo mejor le parecerá que estoy loco pero no… Es que puedo ver dentro de otras personas’” / “It might seem to you that I am crazy, but I’m not… It’s that I can see inside other people” (p. 34).

The story takes a fantasy twist when Diego discovers that he has inherited an alterhuman, angelic identity from his father. As his father explains to him, “No somos de este mundo” / We aren’t of this world (p. 26). The story may thus serve to discount the representation of real humans who identify on the ace spectrum and/or who experience neurodivergence-related sensitivities, since the text ultimately places Diego’s experiences outside the realm of ordinary humanity.

Cultural religious imaginary

Diego refers to his mother as “La Virgen Sobre la Roca” / The Virgin on the Rock (pp. 15, 30, 31). His nickname, “Ángel,” turns out to be a hint at his identity as Diego discovers that he and his father really are angels. Notably, Diego self-identifies as not religious (p. 1). Many Spanish speakers, including those who are not themselves religious, may find this Catholic imagery of “la Virgen” and angels to be familiar and representative of aspects of their cultures.

Stereotypes and prejudices about nationality, ethnicity and social class

Ángel plays with stereotypes about Mexican-Americans in the United States. On the one hand, Diego breaks several stereotypes about Latinxs by being a U.S.-American citizen, wealthy, and educated. On the other hand, the character reinforces some stereotypes as he seems to imply that he is better than those “other” Mexican-Americans who are working class or poor.

Diego describes his dual-national U.S. American-Mexican identity and the stereotypes and assumptions that he encounters from members of the dominant culture:

“Ahora soy tan americano como mexicano. Pero muchos me miran con ojos sospechos. Por un momento, se preguntan, ‘¿Legal o ilegal?’ A veces piensan que soy obrero, o jardinero, o cocinero en Denny’s, que mis padres reciben ayuda del gobierno, que todo lo tengo por affirmative action, que tengo cinco o más hermanos, que vendo drogas… No saben que soy ciudadano de este país, alfabeto en dos lenguas, y que estudio en Berkeley” / Now I am as [U.S.] American as Mexican. But many times people look at me with suspicious eyes. For a moment, they ask themselves, “Legal or illegal?” At times they think that I’m a [blue-collar] worker, or gardener, or cook in Denny’s [restaurant]; that I got everything because of affirmative action; that I have five or more siblings; that I sell drugs… They don’t know that I am a citizen of this country, literate in two languages, and that I’m studying at [the University of California at] Berkeley (p. 3).

Shortly thereafter, after discussing his expensive seaside home, Diego refers to his car to imply that he views himself as superior to members of the working class: “Para mi cumple de 18 años, mi mamá me regaló un carro nuevo–un BMW Z4 descapotable. ¡Qué cocinero de Denny’s! ¿eh?” / For my 18th birthday, my mom gave me a new car–a convertible BMW Z4. Pretty good for [someone the dominant class assumes may be] a Denny’s cook, eh? (p. 4)

By associating undocumented immigration status, working-class employment, governmental assistance, affirmative action, large families, and drug dealing with Mexican-American communities, and contrasting these descriptors with citizenship, multilingualism, and higher education, Diego may inadvertently reify a complicated web of nationalist and classist assumptions, false correlations, and false oppositions. Teachers may wish to discuss relevant demographic and sociological research to challenge the paradigms of the dominant culture that Diego seeks to critique. They may also wish to unpack the prejudices that Diego himself manifests through these comments.

Diego may also reinforce stereotypes about appearance, race and ethnicity. He states that his father “looks Latino”: “Su pelo era corto, su faz morena. Parecía latino, quizás de ascendencia mexicana, de unos 40 años” / His hair was short, his face brown. He looked Latino, maybe of Mexican descent, approximately 40 years old (p. 11). These comments imply that all Latinxs look alike; teachers may wish to discuss with students that Latinx is an identity based on language and culture, not race.

In the text, the author employs the term “americano” as synonymous with United States American (p. 3). Many Spanish speakers prefer the term “estadounidense” because “americano” can refer to anyone from the continent. See LLLAB’s statement on this topic.

Gender stereotypes

Diego’s mother has raised him alone, and a significant scene focuses on her tears: “En esa lágrima vi toda la carga que llevaba adentro. Una madre soltera. Una mujer que había perdido…” / In that tear, I saw all the burden that she carried inside. A single mother. A woman who had lost… (p. 31). The text seems to emphasize suffering without acknowledging that many people might find empowerment, independence, or fulfillment in solo parenting. In this way, the text reinforces a one-dimensional view of single motherhood, which fails to reflect the diverse ways in which solo parenting is experienced.

The story presents an unchallenged view of Diego’s mother as a woman who “needs” to be under the care of another:

“…ella temía que yo me fuera como mi papá, que la dejara sola en el mundo. La razón por la cual vivía era yo, y la dejaría para no volver. ‘No te preocupes,’ le dije mientras la mecía en mis brazos. ‘Siempre te cuidaré. Siempre estaré contigo.’ ‘¿Me lo prometes?’ preguntó entre sollozos. ‘Sí. Te lo prometo.’ … Y sentí en mis brazos que mi mamá se calmaba. Dejó de llorar…” / She was afraid that I would leave like my father did, that I would leave her alone in the world. I was the reason she was alive, and I would leave her and never return. “Don’t worry,” I told her while I rocked her in my arms. “I will always take care of you. I will always be with you.” “Do you promise?” she asked between sobs. “Yes. I promise you.” … And I felt in my arms that my mom was calming down. She stopped crying (pp. 31-32).

This exchange may reify a view of women as helpless and as needing care from a male, whether from a son or a male partner.

Consent

In the text, Diego fails to seek consent before intentionally using his sixth sense to enter the personal space of his professor, both physically and psychologically: “Agarré su cara en mis manos y le miré directamente a los ojos. Y entré” / I took his face in my hands and I looked him directly in the eyes. And I entered [his interior psychological space] (p. 35). Once inside his professor’s interior world, Diego employs coercive force in the process of exercising his healing gifts: “Extendí unos brazos invisibles y envolví la imagen. Luchó contra mi abrazo, pero mantuve mi agarre” / I extended invisible arms and I wrapped them around the image [of suffering]. It fought against my embrace, but I maintained my hold (p. 35). The text challenges neither the protagonist’s failure to seek consent nor his use of unapproved force in this scene.

Sociolinguistics of term “darkness”

The author uses “darkness” as a symbol for something negative. In one scene, Diego finds images and memories inside another character. “Era una imagen envuelta en negro. Pero pude ver algo más. Una alegría enterrada al interior. Una imagen clara…” / It was an image wrapped in darkness. But I could see something more. A happiness buried inside. A light image (p. 35). The text equates darkness with sadness and happiness with light. This familiar literary trope can unconsciously reinforce racism.

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