Any Small Goodness

As the novel opens, Johnston explores Arturo’s developing identity, noting the unique power of names to reflect one’s true self. When Arturo begins school, Miss Pringle changes his name, introducing him thus: “Class, this is Arthur Rodriguez” (9). Arturo is surprised at the swiftness with which Miss Pringle changes his name, noticing that “Arturo” was erased like a “used-up word on a chalkboard” (9). Miss Pringle, as Arturo admits, probably didn’t mean to offend him but had merely hoped to “make things easier on herself” (9). Even though Miss Pringle acted unconsciously, the ease with which she Americanizes Arturo’s name speaks to wider unconscious bias in American culture. Johnston suggests that white, non-immigrant Americans consider an immigrating person’s experience only casually, replacing Latinx names as though they were as impermanent as chalk. 

At first, Arturo embraces this new identity, recognizing an opportunity to fit in with his American classmates. “With such a name as Arthur,” he admits, “I’ll fit in real well at school” (9). The American colloquialism of “real well” reflects Arturo’s desire to fit in. Arturo joins other Latinx classmates who have been similarly “gringo-ized” (9). As quickly as Arturo has become Arthur, so too do Jaime, Alicia, and Raúl become James, Alice, and Ralph, respectively. Only Lloyd, an American, is immune to Miss Pringle’s name-changing. Like Miss Pringle, Arturo and his friends assume that these name changes will be seamless, and they ignore any more existential consequences. Arturo notes that they “peeled off those old names, like onion skins” (14), as though their names were superficial, akin to garbage. Though Arturo’s family protests, he persists, arguing that “to get by, you need American names” (13). His insistence suggests that both the power of forced assimilation and the magnitude of discrimination make Arturo learn how to “get by.”

However, though Arturo and his friends hope to shed their old names easily, they secretly begin to hesitate. Arturo admits that a “worm of doubt squirms in my mind” (14), and Alicia, too, subtly regrets that her name should change so suddenly. For instance, though Alicia swears that her old self is “gone,” Arturo likens her eyes to “two dark and hurting bruises” (10). This implies the violence of forced assimilation. Similarly, when Abuelita addresses her as “Alicia”--her real name­—Alicia’s eyes “flame-up, bright with excessive sparkle” (15). Eyes typically convey truth and character, and to juxtapose these two descriptions is to underscore the cost of assimilation. When addressed by “Alice,” Alicia appears almost wounded, but her real name restores her characteristic energy, as if it’s sparking her back into existence. 

As Johnston suggests, names are not merely labels but a crucial extension of one’s deeper self. For instance, when the Rodriguezes adopt a black cat, they name her “Huitla,” after the popular Mexican delicacy huitlacoche. Huitlacoche is a staple in the Rodriguez household, and its “black-as-night” color inspires Huitla’s name (22). However, the similarity between Huitla and huitlacoche is not only skin-deep but also discovered in a common quirkiness. Huitlacoche, as Arturo admits, resembles “swamp glug” but nevertheless tastes like “some food of heaven” (23). Huitla, similarly, is “pretty goofy-looking” (23-24), with her flat face and protruding tongue, but she proves a loyal, loving companion. This introduces the theme of True Character Versus Appearance. Huitla and huitlacoche are both black in color, but more critically, they each balance awkwardness with sweetness. Their common name penetrates beyond appearance and captures instead a similarity in character. 

Eventually, Arturo and his friends acknowledge this power of naming, accepting names as representations of culture, character, and self. One night, Arturo overhears Abuelita addressing her late husband, Arturo’s namesake. Speaking to the air, she prays that one day, “[Arturo] will recognize how good is your name. One day he will know what it means—Arturo” (18). Abuelita’s grief finally convinces Arturo of his name’s importance, demonstrating its relevance to his developing identity. Here, Arturo first commits to a Mexican American experience, participating in American culture without obscuring his Mexican heritage and hence Embracing a Multicultural Identity. To cement this new understanding, Arturo invites his friends to swear their allegiance to their Mexican names: “We’re taking back our names” (19), Arturo explains, investing each of them with a sudden sense of control. His friends agree immediately, as “little stars bloom in [Alicia’s] eyes” (19), an image that connects to the “excessive sparkle” earlier when Abuelita calls her “Alicia.” Ultimately, they swear on Abuelita’s molcajete—a symbol of the endurance of Mexican tradition—and restore their true selves. Ultimately, in charting this journey, Johnston emphasizes the importance of preserving one’s cultural heritage.