Salvador Late or Early

Salvador Late or Early, by Sandra Cisneros

"Salvador with eyes the color of caterpillar, Salvador of the crooked hair and crooked teeth, Salvador whose name the teacher cannot remember, is a boy who is no one’s friend, runs along somewhere in that vague direction where homes are the color of bad weather, lives behind a raw wood doorway, shakes the sleepy brothers awake, ties their shoes, combs their hair with water, feeds them milk and cornflakes from a tin cup in the dim dark of the morning. Salvador, late or early, sooner or later arrives with the string of younger brothers ready. Helps his mama, who is busy with the business of the baby. Tugs the arms of Cecilio, Arturito, makes them hurry, because today, like yesterday, Arturito has dropped the cigar box of crayons, has let go the hundred little fingers of red, green, yellow, blue, and nub of black sticks that tumble and spill over and beyond the asphalt puddles until the crossing-guard lady holds back the blur of traffic for Salvador to collect them again.Salvador inside that wrinkled shirt, inside the throat that must clear itself and apologize each time it speaks, inside that forty-pound body of boy with its geography of scars, its history of hurt, limbs stuffed with feathers and rags, in what part of the eyes, in what part of the heart, in that cage of the chest where something throbs with both fists and knows only what Salvador knows, inside that body too small to contain the hundred balloons of happiness, the single guitar of grief, is a boy like any other disappearing out the door, beside the schoolyard gate, where he has told his brothers they must wait. Collects the hands of Cecilio and Arturito, scuttles off dodging the many schoolyard colors, the elbows and wrists crisscrossing, the several shoes running. Grows small and smaller to the eye, dissolves into the bright horizon, flutters in the air before disappearing like a memory of kites. "

I really like this poem. To me it is about poverty, and how kids can get lost in the cracks of the education system. It is about how we as teachers don't always know the life of our students outside the classroom. To me, the crayons represent how Salvador is depended on to pick up all the pieces, the fallen pieces, of his family. Salvador bears scars but has "limbs stuffed with feathers". He is still fragile. Life is forcing him to mature fast, but he is still a child. Salvador wants happiness. His chest "throbs with both fists"- he's fighting to hold on to keep from falling further behind, into the cracks. Salvador is going to do his best to get that bright future, and he's taking his brothers with him. When I read the line, "Grows small and smaller to the eye, dissolves into the bright horizon, flutters in the air before disappearing like a memory of kites." it makes me feel like it is getting harder and harder to save Salvador, or kids like Salvador, with each day that passes. As teachers we want to give our students that bright future they deserve.. Is it too LATE to help kids like Salvador? Or by opening our eyes can we catch these students EARLY enough to save them from falling into the cracks.. I certainly pray it is the former.