Home

The child’s perception of the house in, The House on Mango Street, by Sandra Cisneros, is a very Americanized observation. She believes that a house can only equal a detached building with room for her. She does not view a house as a simple apartment or “flat”. Espranza confuses the structure of a house with the meaning of home intertwined in the vision of the American dream.
Her perception of a house is her determination to accomplish her version of the American Dream. Throughout the novel, Espranza describes the harsh realties of her world through the lens of a child. Her desire for a house represents the desire to get out her improvised world and into a world where she can, “point at her house” (4). She aspires to go beyond the financial stage of her parents and obtain a house of her own.
My experience with Beans and Bread and my conversations with the attendants of Beans and Bread have given me a new insight into the way the people of the city view their houses. They do not perceive a house as a structure that symbolizes their financial state as Espranza does. The people I have interacted with view their houses as simply shelter and protection from Baltimore elements. Their focus is not on the building, but rather the inhabitants of that house which makes it a home.
An elder lady I spoke with described the area she lived in. She said that her house was an apartment near the stadium. It was not a good location, but it was close to her job. She said that she chose to live in that area so that to should could take care of her daughter, who just had a baby. It does not matter where you live as long as you enjoy the company you are keeping.
Ezpranza wanted to go beyond the “company she was keeping”. She wanted something more for herself, and was not focused on what her parents had already provided for her.
As mentioned in Jane Jacobs Death and Life of the American City, city planners do not focus on community and the necessary aspects of a city and community needs to survive. It is not about how the city is laid out to best suit the planners, the planners need to look beyond blue-prints and reach into the heart of humanity and seek how humans survive and thrive, through the support of each other. Cities nurture their inhabitants with each other.

Home Sweet Home

As we discussed in class, structurally, Sandra Cisneros’ novel The House on Mango Street is extremely complex under a deceptively simple surface. As we grow older, we view these details through the jaded lens of an experienced adult. That is perhaps why this book of vignettes is so celebrated; it allows its readers to return to the unassuming, naïve view of a child, and watch how the perceptions of experiences change and evolve over time, as a product of a seasoned and affected adult nature. I was absolutely touched by the exchange of the Esperanza and the beautifully described three old sisters, “when you leave, you must remember to come back for the others. A circle, understand? You will always be Esperanza. You will always be Mango Street. You can’t erase what you know. You can’t forget who you are”(105). Concisely and eloquently put, that is the essence of what I have learned in this class this semester through literature, discussion, and experience: the city affects you, just as you affect the city. This includes everyone. The details that shaped the identity of the city for you lie in these little exchanges; a conversation with strangers, a gathering of the community (at the baby’s funeral), a recognition of what “home” means to you. Though Esperanza may be ashamed of the building on Mango Street where her family resides, that does not make it any less her home, or a part of her that has affected and will continue to affect her, just as she has affected it.
At the time Esperanza was told that by the sisters, she has trouble understanding its meaning. She will undoubtedly return to this moment in time again as an adult, and understand its significance as if it were occurring all over again, with an illuminated understanding of what exactly they meant. As Cisneros puts it, “a story is like a Giacometti sculpture; the further you get away from it, the clearer you can see it”. The sisters press her to remember the responsibility she has to her neighborhood. Esperanza was extremely embarrassed of the house on Mango Street, and thus attempted to admonish its importance, and even existence. But the very fact that the stories of her childhood in this novel center on the people she met and the things she saw while living on Mango Street illustrate its significance, rather than the structure that served as her house.
I think that the novel subtly emphasizes the power of the decisions we make, the places we go, the people we meet, and the things we know to shape our existence—without de-emphasizing the power we have within ourselves to affect how those experiences will shape us. The past three years in Baltimore have taught me much more than I think I will ever know; I have grown in ways I am acutely aware of, and ways that I will perhaps never fully realize. Later in life, I’ll reflect on little exchanges, like the one between Esperanza and the three sisters, that I perhaps did not fully grasp at the time, but can come to appreciate. But I do understand the responsibility I have to the city as a product of the knowledge I have gained about it, and I know the importance of remembering this connection, and the implications of an active Jesuit education that will remain with me forever.

Writing to Remain Free

In the chapter "Born Bad" of the novel The House on Mango Street by Sandra Cisneros, Esperanza reads her sick aunt a poem that she wrote, and her aunt responds: "That's nice. That's very good, she said in her tired voice. You just remember to keep writing, Esperanza. You must keep writing. It will keep you free, and I said yes, but at that time I didn't know what she meant." (61). Throughout the novel, Esperanza is digusted by her surroudings, embarassed to live in her family's house on Mango Street. She is constantly seeking a way to grow up and out, to become an independent woman. Without even knowing, she finds that in writing, which comes naturally to her. Her ability to interpret her world and express her insights is the power she needs to live her dream.

The final chapter in Edwidge Danticat's Krik? Krak! is very similar because the narrator, addressing a second person, reveals the power in writing, especially for women. Written expression is a way for women to express power without yielding a club or being too visible; it's a secret, self-satisfying power that can also be therapeutic. "And writing? Writing was as forbidden as dark rouge on the cheeks or a first date before eighteen. It was an act of indolence, something to be done in a corner when you could have been learning to cook." (219). In Esperanza's case, so much is made forbidden to her by her parents and her culture. Everything seems that much more appealing because it is sinful or inappropriate. Writing is a productive way for both characters to rebel against their cultural norms.

At the end of The House on Mango Street, Esperanza finally understands what her aunt meant. "I put it down on paper and then the ghost does not ache so much. I write it down and Mango says goodbye sometimes. She does not hold me with both arms. She sets me free." (110). Esperanza realizes that this power of hers allows her the ability to let go of Mango Street without really letting go of it. By writing about it, she is able to distance herself from it but also commemorate it in a way. With Mango Street, it's a love/hate relationship. A writer always finds it difficult to show writing to close relatives and friends because these people might identify the aspects of the writing that are true to life. These people, "They will not know I have gone away to come back." (110). Esperanza both satisfies her own needs and her need to help her people.

Cisneros Embraces Her Heritage

In the House on Mango Street, Esperanza is indeed a sign of hope for the community of Mango Street. She is an ambitious character who strives to achieve more than her ancestors or neighbors. Through her, Cisneros delivers a powerful message to her community, which is a message of love and respect for one’s heritage, in my opinion. When Esperanza speaks of Sally, she declares, “She says she is in love, but I think she did it to escape” (102). Esperanza notices that the people in her life, particularly women, allow their own individuality and dreams to be taken away without much resistance on their part, or they may try to accomplish their dreams in the wrong way. These women submit to their husbands or give up their desires without acknowledging what they want out of life. In reference to Sally’s submission to her husband, Esperanza says, “she sits at home because she is afraid to go outside without permission” (102). Esperanza’s witnesses this hopeless attitude in her own mother. Her mother says, “‘I could’ve been somebody, you know?’...She has lived in this city her whole life.” (90). Esperanza’s mother reminds her to keep going to school so that she can achieve more than she was able. It is almost as if the women on Mango Street realize that they could have achieved more, but that they just do not care enough to take that extra leap that would allow them to break free of the restrictions that Mango Street seems to have. Or maybe is it just that they did not have the opportunities that Esperanza’s generation does.

Eventually, Esperanza realizes that she has to take action in order to avoid a life of unfulfilled dreams like the people around her. She says, “I am tired of looking at what we can’t have…One day I’ll have my own house, but I won’t forget who I am or where I came from” (87). Even if Esperanza does break free of the cycle present in The House on Mango Street, she will never forget her roots, which is a very powerful statement on her behalf. The aunts tell Esperanza, “When you leave you must remember to come back for the others. A circle, you understand? You will always be Esperanza, you will always be Mango Street. You can’t erase what you know. You can’t forget what you are.” (105). Clearly, remembering one’s heritage is valued and lessons can only be learned from the past. In order to start anew, we must acknowledge where we originate from.

In regards to our class discussion yesterday concerning criticism of Sandra Cisneros, I firmly believe that any criticism directed towards the author is wrong and that Cisnero’s work embraces her own culture to the highest degree. She values tradition and memory, yet she insists on pursuing an improved culture with better living conditions, fulfilled dreams, and healthy family life for all, among other things. Cisneros wants her culture, in my opinion, to be the happy and comfortable, not longing for more. She wants her generation to take advantage of the opportunities that are before them-opportunities that older generations may not have had. Therefore, she is not turning her back on her heritage. She is embracing it and calling it to improve itself, so that everyone can be healthier and happier with the general condition of their lives. She, like Naylor in The Women of Brewster Place, wants to urge her community to strive for better. She wants that dream deferred that Langston Hughes speaks so of so profoundly to come to fruition. The truth is that these people deserve it; they owe it to themselves for being such a powerful community, rich in diversity, with so much to offer. This, to me, is a message of sincere, unconditional love for a community and does not constitute rejection at all. Cisneros returned to aid her heritage with her talents, when she could have abandoned it as a successful author. She, like Esperanza, acknowledges where she came from. Cisneros used these talents in order to reach her highest potential, and in turn wrote many works that should inspire others like young Esperanza to reach higher and accomplish all that they are capable of achieving (which is certainly not a bad thing). After all, Cisneros was once in the shoes of these young Hispanic women. In my opinion, she is an example to these of women of what they can become if they are determined. I would like to ask Cisneros’ critics why they feel this is such a negative thing to aspire to.

Don't Fence Me In

Jacobs, in discussing the nature of physical borders in cities, notes, "Often borders are thought of as passive objects, or matter-of-factly just as edges. However, a border exerts an active influence."(257) In Naylor's, "The Women of Brewster Place", a wall had been erected by the city council that separated the buildings of Brewster Place from the propserous street that it was adjacent to. The wall not only served as a physical reminder to the residents of the community that they were "walled-off" from the city, or in other words not considered an integral concern by the city council or its citizens; the wall actually led Brewster Place's residents to believe the sentiment that they were not worthy of the same respect or concern as the citizens of the more economically successful areas of the city, illustarting the power of the influence of such borders.
Jacobs says that the process of phasing a street out from the main-stream of the action in the city is a gradual process, "Consequently, the street that adjoins a border is a terminus of generalized use. If this street, which is the end of the line for people in the area of the ordinary city, also get little or no use from people inside the single-use, border-framing territory, it is bound to be a deadened place, with scant users. This deadness can have further reprecussions."(259) Naylor described the community of Brewster Place as an originally ambitious project. However, as it fell into disrepair, and was consequently separated from the city by a large brick wall, the sentiment of the community changed as well; its own members regarded certain alleys as "trouble-spots", and avoided them rather than confronting them. These alleys, left untouched, became the breeding ground for the "hoodlums" of the area. It took a horrific event, the raping of an innocent woman, then subsequently the death of innocent man, to awaken the people of the community from their lulled succession to the treatment they had been enduring (or perhaps lack of treatment, as they had been effectively ignored by their own city).
The women of Brewster Place had a psuedo-spiritual awakening and literally tore down the wall, brick by brick, with their bare hands. The removal of the physical barrier that had been placed between them and, essentially, the rest of the world (or so I imagined it would feel to anyone who was walled-off like that), was a visible denial of the succlusion they had been placed in, and for many years, simply accepted. What Naylor and Jacobs are saying, as well as what we have frequently discussed in class, is that you cannot ever separate yourself from the city. In the case of the women of Brewster Place, it may take a catastrophic event to make that abundantly clear, but whether it be a significant event, or a gradual occurrence, the city will break through the barrier, because it is inherently connected to its citizens as a living entity, and we are connected to the city,

Bringing Down Borders

Jane Jacob’s assessment on borders seems to be quite valid for any city. She writes, “Often borders are thought of as passive objects, or matter-of-factly just as edges. However, a border exerts an active influence” (157). Jacob’s assessment of borders is a reality, and it is true that the results will be rewarding if we try to eliminate these borders, whether they are physical or not.

Jacobs writes, “The true trouble with borders, as city neighbors, is that they are apt to form dead ends for most users of city streets. They represent, for most people, most of the time, barriers” (259). In The Women of Brewster Place, the wall is a symbol of limitations, which leads to the women’s decision to tear it down at the end of the novel. When they tear down this wall, they are declaring that they will not allow barriers in their city. They crave interaction with the rest of the city, as well as respect. The tearing down of the wall shows the determination of these women to change their reputation with the surrounding communities. They wish to end the cycle that they have always been a part of. They understand that borders are inhibiting. Jacobs mentions that borders do not allow “continuous mingling of people, present because of different purposes”. Borders prevent streets from interconnecting, thus preventing the entire city from association altogether. Sadly, “ [the border is the] only device that encourages districts to form a place of fragmented, self-isolated neighborhoods or backwaters” (259). People erect borders within their city because they want to be surrounded by what is familiar to them. They want to close off the outside world, so that they can live an isolated life. In Krik? Krak!, the boy and the girl are able to exchange letters to each other regardless of the distance that separates them. Clearly, borders are not an issue for them. They transcend the brokenness of their homeland of Haiti, which is very divided by borders. Likewise, Danticat is trying to disintegrate the borders we erect by calling out to a universal audience. She is trying to connect with us by yelling Krik!, in hopes that we will display our attention by replying Krak!. She wants to connect with her audience without anything prohibiting this-race, class, etc, so that we can understand her message. Marco Polo sees a similarity with every city he visits in Invisible Cities, which shows his ability to transcend the borders that may be in place within and outside of each city. Following this pattern, Kolvenbach’s mission for the entire Jesuit community is centered on interaction with the city, which is aimed at eliminating or somewhat breaking the borders of cities. In No Longer at Ease, Obi attempts to transcend the borders his village creates, but they do not allow him to do so. Clearly, borders are an inevitable part of cities. Whether these borders are physical, racial, economic, or cultural, they do exist. However, accepting these borders does not have to be a part of our interaction with the city. We must strive to overcome them.

When we do our service, we are challenging the borders that are within our city. If we leave the popular areas of Baltimore and traverse to the less populated edges of town, we are making use of that wasted space that Jacobs despises so greatly. If borders are rendered useless by sections, it seems as though the only solution would be to join everything within the city, so that there are no more borders whatsoever. Is this really possible? Perhaps it is not. However, it is possible to remove some of the barriers that are present within the city. Blurring, if not eliminating the lines that divide our cities inside and out, seems to be the ultimate way to aid in their survival.

City as a Commodity

For the past several months working as a Real Estate, I have come to realize how important the home can be to a family or individual. It is not only shelter, but also a definition of that person considering its architectural characteristics and especially its location. My company focuses on the satisfaction of the customer’s want and/or need. Most of the time customers demand that location become a part of their equation when finding their dream house. This concept of residential “location” has been turned into a commodity as pointed out by Jane Jacobs in her book, The Death and Life of the Great American Cities.
The focus of many architects or city designers in not based on the needs of the already established population. Their goals have turned toward the needs and wants of a new wealthier consumer population moving into the cities. As Jacobs explain the streets and areas of the city have become “successful”. She states, “ We are accustomed to thinking of streets, or neighborhoods of streets as divided into functional uses—entertainment, offices, residents, shopping or the like. And so they are, but only to a degree if they maintain their success” (245). There is no focus on improving on the people who live there now. It is on the focus in on the new improvements coming into the city. The city has turned into a commodity to become successful in the arena of the new population.
By turning the city into a commodity and attracting a different class of people to the city, it only creates more problems, and it is not a cure. The commodity is very harmful to established people in the city. The people of Baltimore can be easily placed aside to make room for bigger and better apartments, shopping, and entertainment for the new population moving. The city of Baltimore should first focus on its own internal problems before electing new populations in.

Waterfront Property

For an assignment at my internship, I had the unique opportunity this morning to meet with an architect and an interior designer in Canton for a walk-through of a condominium they had renovated. Driving into Canton, I suddenly felt like I was no longer in Baltimore anymore; rather, I could have been at the Jersey "shore" or in southern California because the sunlight was brightly glistening off the water and everything seemed to draw attention to the waterfront. The homeowners had probably paid a fortune to give up their two-story house in suburban Washington D.C. to live in this tiny condominium, well-designed but remarkable mostly for its waterfront view. I learned that Canton used to be a center of industry in Baltimore and that most of the waterfront properties coveted by real estate seekers today were actually warehouses that manufactured goods like tin boxes. The working class people of Baltimore used to make their livings here, and I suspect one of the only things they could look forward to in the morning was the breathtaking view of the harbor that people pay huge sums of money for today.

Jacobs writes: "...the relatively few city residential districts that do become outstandingly magnetic and successful at generating diversity and vitality are subjected ultimately to the same forces of self-destruction as downtowns. In this case, so many people want to live in the locality that it becomes profitable to build, in excessive and devastating quantity, for those who can pay the most. These are usually childless people, and today they are not simply people who can pay the most in general, but people who can or will pay the most for the smallest space." (249). It's strange to think that much of the character and charm of a neighborhood that draws wealthy people to Canton was built on the sweat and toil of working class people who never found anything glamorous about their 9-5 and their warehouses. But now it's chic to live in a converted warehouse. It's like displaying the fact that you have enough money to sleep peacefully in a bed you make on the workbench that a blue collar worker used to make your goods.

Then again, I would love to live in Canton Cove or any other waterfront property; it's one of my dreams, actually. And honestly, I guess I wouldn't think too much of the gentrification if it didn't effect me personally. This doesn't really have to do with Baltimore but another city, Wildwood, NJ. Most people probably wouldn't find Wildwood, on the southernmost tip of NJ to be the most classiest place, but it's particularly special to me because my parents used to take me there every summer as a child for at least a week, and it's where I first fell in love with the beach and beach culture. I still make it a point to visit now, even though my parents don't understand why I refuse to try other summer destinations. Every time I visit Wildwood, more and more of the DooWop (1950s) style motels are demolished for luxury condominiums. This doesn't make any sense to me and is a cause for sadness. Wildwood is not ready to sustain these people with higher incomes because a lot of the city, especially in the northern end, is not in great shape. The city's reputation is its ability to draw families, especially those with lower incomes. The beach is one of the most beautiful I have ever seen, remains free (a rarity of NJ beaches) and shouldn't be restricted to only those people who can afford ridiculously high waterfront property prices. I guess wherever there's water and a view, the same thing occurs.

Eat a little and think you know Baltimore

Laura Lippman describes her character Tess in the novel Butcher Hill as a very strong and confident young woman . In the novel, Tess moves to a new area in Baltimore and becomes a partner in a detective agency in Butcher Hill. She appears to be extremely intelligent and very aware of her surroundings; however Tess is unable to mentally and emotionally connect to the city of Baltimore.
The novel begins with Tess walking her dog through the city of Baltimore. She describes the beautiful arrangement of the city. She depicts the parks, the streets, and the weather. She states, “ But this was a perfect day. Spring had started out cool and wet in Baltimore this year, then settled into a pattern of eerily exquisite days(19). Tess appears to understand the city. She explains the checkered pattern of the city with it poor areas and its neighboring wealthy developments. Tess continues to walk and explore Baltimore. She stops and even purchases “Berger” cookies to eat on her walk. The Berger cookie is the cookie of Baltimore. Tess is actually consuming Baltimore. Lippman presents Tess’s understanding of Baltimore as a very shallow comprehension. Yes, Tess can observe the city and judge the city and it inhabitants. She can even claim to be physically a part of the city, but she does not connect to the city. Tess emerges herself in the city, and even engulfs the city, yet she is not fully a part of the city . Tess cannot completely understand or connect with Baltimore. Through the novel Tess believes she knows everything about the city and everyone. She has preconceived notions of her clients and the areas she investigates.
Tess’s view on Baltimore reminds me of the simple view Loyola students have on the city. Loyola students might think they understand the lay out of Baltimore, its museums, its inhabitants, and even its food. But this does not necessarily mean that students can cannot and truly comprehend the true nature of Baltimore.

Laylah, Layla

Laura Lippman's character, Tess, represents the drive towrds independant success, accompanied with a hesitation of truly succeeding individually. This drive coupled with hesitation is reminiscent of the attitude of almost any new college gradutae I've ever encountered, aspects of the discussion with our group on Tuesday, and particularly inherent in the attitude of the boys of the St. Ignatius Loyola Academy in Baltimore City. Perhaps the boys' reservations with the possibilities of such success our different from mine, but the principle of why they wish to be educated and established parallels mine, or any other student's for that matter.
There is a wonderful example of the reality of the cultural divide found in this, or any other city: when Tess finds out that Keisha Moore's daughter is named Laylah, she automatically sings a riff from Clapton's classic, "Layla", then stopped abruptly citing her embarassment at the fact that Keisha probably hears that all the time. "Keisha looked puzzled. 'There's a song with my baby's name? Isn't that something? I'd sure like to hear that sometime.' 'Yeah Derek and The Dominoes.' Keisha looked blank. 'You know, Eric Clapton.' 'Oh yeah that guitar player. The one whose little boy fell out the window. The one who did the song with Babyface.' Funny, the different contexts people brought into the world."(55)
The passage illuminates the cultural divide between the two women, but not does not impose any sort of judgment on either reference to Clapton, the icon; I think this exemplifies the importance of the union of the two references, and what you can learn from those outside of your "cultural comfort zone". The St. Ignatius boys often converse about a Baltimore that I know nothing about, but consider it a privelaged window through which to learn about it. Whenever any of the Loyola students discuss school work, or evening plans, the boys are more than enthusiastic to hear all about it, exhibiting their desire to someday participate in a college education, and those very same activities. Our commonality is in the desire to learn form each other, and our divide lies in what we already know about ourselves; the boy shave taught me the value of what I can bring to the table, and the invaluability of learning about others.

Living in a Novel World

The first thing I noticed while reading Laura Lippman's Butchers Hill was how much I could identify with the surroudings, so much so that I found myself nodding my head at the end of almost every page. I've never before read a work of fiction about a place that I have lived, and I almost wish I didn't know anything about Baltimore so that I could fully experience Lippman's talent for description, not just my own memory of what she describes. I wish I knew how an outsider would read Butchers Hill - how would they imagine Fell's Point, the Domino Sugar sign and Patterson Park? Would it have the same effect on outside readers or is the power of Lippman's description and insight only truly understood by her fellow Baltimoreans?

I was very much intrigued by the passages in which Tess consults her friends for insider information about Destiny, Treasure, Salamon and Eldon. These kids were forgotten for years; to most people, they seemed unremarkable with neither potential nor promise. How easy it was for the investigators to find information about them once Tess showed interest in locating them! Sometimes I feel like everyone suffering in Baltimore is so distant, lost and beyond reach. But Tess demonstrates how simple it is to actually connect with a person once you care to reach out to them. Sure, she was motivated by a paycheck, but she proves that a person once faceless can, in a moment, be a body with a name, a history and an identity. This is interesting to consider when contemplating Baltimore's pressing issues; all that seem lost are really one person after another who can be touched.

At the end of chapter four, Laura introduces the issue of parental responsibility and children who are influenced negatively by their environments. Tull relays Beales' shocking comment: "'He said to this woman, grieving for her only child, 'If you had been a good mother in the first place, Donnie wouldn't have been living in my neighborhood, and he wouldn't be dead now.'" (44). Tess defends Beales by saying that the boy would have been alive if the mother had done her job and kept him from hanging out on the street in the middle of the night. I'm not sure who to agree with, but one thing is for sure: this takes Jane Jacobs idea about the neighborhood watch to an extreme concept. Beales was so concerned about the vandalism that the kids were causing in the neighborhood that he took it upon himself to kill one of them. It makes me wonder how far we should take the neighborhood watch idea and if Jacobs ever considered a situation like this.

Baltimore: A Wealth of Diversity

In her novel Butchers Hill, Laura Lippman gives us an interesting first hand look at the different faces of the city of Baltimore. She describes many different areas, from the ritzy to the run down, thereby illustrating the cultural diversity of Baltimore.

In reference to Butchers Hill, Mr. Beale says, “This neighborhood is worse than it was when I went in. I guess hell got even hotter” (Lippman 11). This area is described as particularly unsafe and decrepit right from the beginning of the novel. Later on in the novel, another economically deprived and unsafe part of the city, Washington Street, is mentioned. Tess says, “The children of Washington Street couldn’t even afford the luxury of running barefoot through their own dreams” (Lippman 57). This bold statement describes the true atmosphere of certain parts of Baltimore, and on a larger scale, all cities. In addition to her description of these areas, Lippman incorporates wealthy areas of Baltimore into her novel, which gives us a full picture of Baltimore. Tess says, “Clarkesville is home to some of the ritziest subdivisions around” (Lippman 77). However, this town had changed, according to Tess. She had remembered it as “farmland, a few simple houses scattered among trees” (Lippman 78). Therefore, even newly developed areas may have started as something completely opposite, which illustrates the ever-changing nature of all cities. The upper class area of Columbia is referred to as “utopian” (Lippman 118). In addition, the Harborplace is mentioned as one of the newer, more “touristy” areas of Baltimore. Clearly, there are many different sides of Baltimore, as is true of any city.

The more I explore cities, the more apparent it becomes that cities can be summed up in one word-diversity. Even a city that is considered somewhat wealthy has its poor sections and multicultural areas. Cities attract all different types of people, which can be appealing or not, depending on the individual. The novel Butchers Hill sums up this recurring theme of diversity perfectly when Tess says, “Rich Baltimore, poor Baltimore. Old Baltimore, those folks who can trace their blue blood all the way back to the Ark and Dove, and immigrant Baltimore. I just never thought I’d feel like I was in a foreign land less than a mile from my own apartment” (Lippman 110). Although the feeling of being a stranger amidst many people can be intimidating to some, it can also be an eye-opening experience. I believe that exposure to the areas of Baltimore other than Fells Point and the Harbor can allow everyone to expand their horizons a bit and perhaps discover something exciting. Either way, encountering diversity in the city is a chance for everyone to broaden their limited vantage point. Loyola College may be one of the most homogenous campuses around according to Princeton Review, but we have opportunities for encountering diversity, which most college students do not have available. If we venture out into the city (especially the lesser visited, but still safe parts), we may be able to at least witness, if not interact, with the diverse Baltimore that Lippman describes.