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milaraet2016's review against another edition
5.0
An incredible story of an ordinary girl from the hood who lived rough, yet made it out. But it’s not a book about making it out of the hood so much as it’s a book about growing, learning, and using your past, no matter how traumatic, to continue to cling to life.
kinleyanne's review against another edition
challenging
emotional
reflective
fast-paced
5.0
Beautiful story, Puerto Rican female coming of age story. Explores generational trauma, substance abuse, mental illness, family dynamics. I love memoirs. I loved this memoir.
Content Warnings
Graphic: Suicide, Violence, and Alcoholism
Moderate: Sexual assault and Violence
susanbrooks's review against another edition
4.0
Memoir of a rough life, yet the writing is so gorgeous that I didn’t feel pummeled from reading it.
shelf_1ndulgence's review against another edition
5.0
Some stories are easy to read and you slip right into them like a pair of your favorite jeans. Others are more challenging, they make you mad, they make you hurt, they make you confront ugly truths but ultimately they make you better. Ordinary Girls by Jaquira Díaz is the latter of the two.
This debut memoir screams at us and demands that we pay attention to the ordinary girls, those ordinary girls that are often forgotten, ignored, or who have been relegated to the “lost causes” bin in our society. Some of us are/were these girls, some of us know these girls, some of us love these girls, some us have tried to save these girls, and too many of us have lost these girls. These girls are often portrayed as monsters, they are vilified and used as the examples we should not follow; however, no one ever stops to wonder how these ordinary girls became these people, nor do they want to check their privilege long enough to understand that they may be benefiting from a system or way of life that elevates their status while facilitating the downfall of others.
This book is extremely powerful and it touches on difficult subjects such as violence, racism, sexual trauma, substance abuse, systemic poverty, and mental health all while asynchronously presenting a story of trauma beautifully juxtaposed alongside real life events that impacted the author’s surroundings. Many may walk away from this novel and wonder why the author didn't seek help, why she at time appears to glorify her upbringing, and why she so often reverts to self-destructive patters when it appears that she may finally break free. The problem in thinking this way is that this way of thinking is clouded by our implicit biases.
To understand Jaquira's story we must understand the cycles of oppression that prevent a person from seeking help. We need to understand how a person may want help but may be too poor to afford mental health. We must understand that people prioritize shelter, safety, and food before health and even more so when we are talking about mental health. We must also understand the stigma surrounding mental health in latino culture and how we often hear from our families that seeking help is a sign of weakness, even when it is clear that we need professional support. To understand this story, we must understand that sometimes an ordinary girl needs to be seen, needs to feel that they are alive and so they will behave recklessly so as to dare the universe to listen closely. We must understand that we all have damaging coping mechanism that we retreat to and that even the most optimistic among us still doubts the easy path and tries to self-sabotage our progress. We must understand Newton's third law of motion "that every action has and equal and opposite reaction". Only then can we truly understand that "violence begets violence"...that years of oppressions, sexual violence, racism, homophobia, domestic abuse, substance abuse, instability and systemic poverty can insidiously envelop generations upon generations of ordinary girls and lead them towards self-destruction.
Growing up in Miami, many of my friends were these ordinary girls. Eventually, I would move away start somewhere new and make friends that no longer resembled these women. While reading this memoir, I was reminded of my privilege again and again. I related to Jaquira's struggles as a latxn woman growing up in a land that constantly reminded her that she didn’t quite belong. I understood all the micro-agressions surrounding race, socioeconomic status, and sexual orientation because I too had seen them in my own distant family and friends. I understood the mix messages that we often received to be sexy and alluring, yet be labeled damaged good if we explored our sexuality. Despite all this, I grew up in a loving home with parents that loved and supported me and this memoir reminded me of how lucky I was to have something so simple as love and respect from my parents.
If you are looking for a happy ending with a perfect redemption arc this is not the novel for you, but if you want to read about a woman that took control of her demons and fights them everyday to succeed...if you want to see how many grow up in Miami and what they fight every day to claw their way out, then please give this novel a chance...you won’t regret it.
This debut memoir screams at us and demands that we pay attention to the ordinary girls, those ordinary girls that are often forgotten, ignored, or who have been relegated to the “lost causes” bin in our society. Some of us are/were these girls, some of us know these girls, some of us love these girls, some us have tried to save these girls, and too many of us have lost these girls. These girls are often portrayed as monsters, they are vilified and used as the examples we should not follow; however, no one ever stops to wonder how these ordinary girls became these people, nor do they want to check their privilege long enough to understand that they may be benefiting from a system or way of life that elevates their status while facilitating the downfall of others.
This book is extremely powerful and it touches on difficult subjects such as violence, racism, sexual trauma, substance abuse, systemic poverty, and mental health all while asynchronously presenting a story of trauma beautifully juxtaposed alongside real life events that impacted the author’s surroundings. Many may walk away from this novel and wonder why the author didn't seek help, why she at time appears to glorify her upbringing, and why she so often reverts to self-destructive patters when it appears that she may finally break free. The problem in thinking this way is that this way of thinking is clouded by our implicit biases.
To understand Jaquira's story we must understand the cycles of oppression that prevent a person from seeking help. We need to understand how a person may want help but may be too poor to afford mental health. We must understand that people prioritize shelter, safety, and food before health and even more so when we are talking about mental health. We must also understand the stigma surrounding mental health in latino culture and how we often hear from our families that seeking help is a sign of weakness, even when it is clear that we need professional support. To understand this story, we must understand that sometimes an ordinary girl needs to be seen, needs to feel that they are alive and so they will behave recklessly so as to dare the universe to listen closely. We must understand that we all have damaging coping mechanism that we retreat to and that even the most optimistic among us still doubts the easy path and tries to self-sabotage our progress. We must understand Newton's third law of motion "that every action has and equal and opposite reaction". Only then can we truly understand that "violence begets violence"...that years of oppressions, sexual violence, racism, homophobia, domestic abuse, substance abuse, instability and systemic poverty can insidiously envelop generations upon generations of ordinary girls and lead them towards self-destruction.
Growing up in Miami, many of my friends were these ordinary girls. Eventually, I would move away start somewhere new and make friends that no longer resembled these women. While reading this memoir, I was reminded of my privilege again and again. I related to Jaquira's struggles as a latxn woman growing up in a land that constantly reminded her that she didn’t quite belong. I understood all the micro-agressions surrounding race, socioeconomic status, and sexual orientation because I too had seen them in my own distant family and friends. I understood the mix messages that we often received to be sexy and alluring, yet be labeled damaged good if we explored our sexuality. Despite all this, I grew up in a loving home with parents that loved and supported me and this memoir reminded me of how lucky I was to have something so simple as love and respect from my parents.
If you are looking for a happy ending with a perfect redemption arc this is not the novel for you, but if you want to read about a woman that took control of her demons and fights them everyday to succeed...if you want to see how many grow up in Miami and what they fight every day to claw their way out, then please give this novel a chance...you won’t regret it.
victoriamontecillo's review against another edition
challenging
dark
emotional
sad
tense
medium-paced
4.0
sofiamarielg's review against another edition
3.0
Díaz is a good writer with an interesting story. Overall, I did enjoy Ordinary Girls and would definitely read more of her work. Díaz makes you feel her feelings as she's recounting the events of her life and provides striking, tragic imagery as well. The drawback for this book was the muddled chronology. While a useful narrative tool, I found that it created confusion and took away from the story rather than adding to it.
bookofcinz's review against another edition
3.0
Jaquira Diaz’s memoir Ordinary Girls is beautifully written, strong, raw and deeply honest.
I really struggled to write a review for this book because it was so all encompassing and left me emotionally raw. I could not put into words how reading of Diaz’s life affected me and how upsetting to read the mother and daughter relationship.
Starting in Puerto Rico and moving to the US, Diaz’s walks us through her family dynamic which is filled with “things we don’t talk about”, trauma, abuse, mental illness and struggle. There are some moments in the book that really stood out to me, see below the quotes.
My Grandmother was the first person to ever call me nigger
Papi was never home. He’d brought us from Puerto Rico in search of a better life, had left behind his life as a hustler, his penthouse apartment, his cars and properties, to work two jobs. One at a factory and the other as a security guard.
We’re supposed to love our mothers. We’re supposed to trust them and need them and miss them when they’re gone. But what if that same person, the one who’s supposed to love you more than anyone else in the world, the one who’s supposed to protect you, is also the one who hurts you the most?
When I turned eighteen, I would cover the tattoo with rose. Almost a decade later, a friend who’d spent five years in lockup would tell me that in prison, a rose tattoo meant you’d spent a birthday behind bars.
Puerto Rico, seized, exploited, first by the Spanish colonizers, then by Americans who conferred citizenship to Puerto Ricans only so they could be drafted into military service during World War 1, but didn’t allow us the same voting right as other US Citizens
The Puerto Rican women sterilized by the American Government without their consent.
In her review Diaz said, This is who I write about and who I write for. For the girls who are angry and lost. For the girls who never saw themselves in books. For the ordinary girls. Please go read it.
Thanks Algonquin for this book.
I really struggled to write a review for this book because it was so all encompassing and left me emotionally raw. I could not put into words how reading of Diaz’s life affected me and how upsetting to read the mother and daughter relationship.
Starting in Puerto Rico and moving to the US, Diaz’s walks us through her family dynamic which is filled with “things we don’t talk about”, trauma, abuse, mental illness and struggle. There are some moments in the book that really stood out to me, see below the quotes.
My Grandmother was the first person to ever call me nigger
Papi was never home. He’d brought us from Puerto Rico in search of a better life, had left behind his life as a hustler, his penthouse apartment, his cars and properties, to work two jobs. One at a factory and the other as a security guard.
We’re supposed to love our mothers. We’re supposed to trust them and need them and miss them when they’re gone. But what if that same person, the one who’s supposed to love you more than anyone else in the world, the one who’s supposed to protect you, is also the one who hurts you the most?
When I turned eighteen, I would cover the tattoo with rose. Almost a decade later, a friend who’d spent five years in lockup would tell me that in prison, a rose tattoo meant you’d spent a birthday behind bars.
Puerto Rico, seized, exploited, first by the Spanish colonizers, then by Americans who conferred citizenship to Puerto Ricans only so they could be drafted into military service during World War 1, but didn’t allow us the same voting right as other US Citizens
The Puerto Rican women sterilized by the American Government without their consent.
In her review Diaz said, This is who I write about and who I write for. For the girls who are angry and lost. For the girls who never saw themselves in books. For the ordinary girls. Please go read it.
Thanks Algonquin for this book.
readingwithstardust's review against another edition
3.0
I'm not sure what to say about this book, to be honest.