Leela Trumbo
I never heard of upward mobility before this assignment. I knew of the idea but I never knew it's name. I wouldn't know how to talk or write about it, but Martin Espada's poem "Who Burns for the perfection of Paper" was the perfect introduction to this idea. In a upward mobility poem there are two important parts, the establishment of where he was and the introduction of how far he's gone. "At sixteen, I worked after high school hours", the author established that he has had to work hard his whole life, but the phrasing in this line is very deliberate. He effectively is explaining that high school was work too, not just his printing job. This again is alluded to later in the poem, "Ten years later, in law school". IT seems simple enough of a phrase but in actuality it says everything. It tells the reader that even though he was working long hours at the plant that his education was his first priority and that his labor was to support that.
      On the surface this poem could have been merely about his job at the printing plant, but with some close reading the real meaning become apparent. The poem is full of longing, longing to be at school and make something more of himself and we see that when he makes it into law school. But he never forgets where he came from, "I knew that every legal pad was glued with the sting of hidden cuts". This is the other important factor of an upward mobility poem, you never forget your roots. Espada captured this journey of longing, accomplishment and reflection in a quintessential upward mobility poem
      Target is bright, white and clean. It was absolute torture to a child. I was an endless trove of goodies and gimmicks, and I wanted it all. My parents were able to convince my sister that you couldn't actually take any of the stuff home, that it was a toy museum. But that was back when they could barely afford food and I was keen, quite and had sharp eyes. I toughed glossy boxed with pained dolls their blank stares did not entrance me. It was the huge pastel boxes of vinyl bobble headed pets I had my heart set on. There were stars and hearts painted in their large cartoon eyes, the vinyl felt velvet soft when I got to play with them at Tegan's house. The large sets with so many pieces that clicked, whirled and light up held hours of entertainment.
      I begged and screamed to get them. My mother would have to drag me away red faced and silent from the stares of onlookers. She gave me a slurpie and a bad of popcorn to keep me quiet.
      My dad is the kind of garage sales. He can procure whatever you need from someone else's stuff. Our house was filled with tables, chairs and electronics all priory owned by a stranger. So when my father came home with a new haul, I was disinterested.
That was until he cracked open the dusty plastic bin and I saw what was inside, old My Little Pet shop toys. They were the older generation made of hard plastic without the large bobble heads. They had less detail and no play sets, but I loved them. I loved them fiercely and unabashedly. My mother and father had actively searched for the toys that I loved so much. The tub was huge and filled to the brim with the toys. I had 15 animal families, 5 horses, and some more exotic ones. I played with them in my doll house and dressed them up in homemade clothes, but I was proud because they were mine and no one had anything like them. I played with them for 5 long years before my mother sent them along to another child who needed them. I kept my favorite though and put her on a shelf. Her long golden hair, bright blue eyes and tiny pink boy now slightly faded and worn. Two Christmases ago I pulled back bright red and gold wrapping to find new Little pet Shop toys, made of vinyl with shoes and hair brushes. I loved them, but they weren't the same as my old plastic ones.
