On the Home Front with Valentina: A Diary from 1940 to 1943

By Claudia Oviedo and Juan M. Moreno

Created in collaboration with the Smithsonian Institution’s National Museum of the American Latino, Nuestras Voces shares inspiring Latino stories.

In 1940, eleven-year-old Valentina lives in El Paso, Texas, with her Mami, Papi, and two older brothers, Hugo and Kiki. Valentina loves reading and learning, and she hopes to go to college and become a teacher and writer someday. Her brother Hugo was in college, but with World War II looming—and Kiki eager to join the military—Hugo decides to join the National Guard with Kiki. Trying to help her family navigate wartime changes, Valentina takes on a lot more at home. She writes to her brothers, keeps her parents updated on news about the war, and helps with the war effort on the home front—all for a country she’s not so sure accepts Mexican American families like her own. In diary format, the Nuestras Voces series profiles inspiring characters and honors the joys, challenges, and outcomes of Latino experiences.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Capstone Young Readers
• Release date: Aug 1, 2023
• ISBN: 9781669012702

Claudia Oviedo

Claudia Oviedo writes for children under various names. Reading about different mythologies is a favorite pastime with her kids. Honors include: 2009 Paterson Prize for Books for Young People, as well as the 2008 and 2015 Texas Institute of Letters Best Young Adult Book Award, and several starred reviews for her picture books.

Book preview

Nuestras Voces: On the Home Front with Valentina, 1940–1943 by Claudia Oviedo, Illustrated by Juan Manuel Moreno

Table of Contents

Cover

Title Page

September 1940

October 1940

November 1940

December 1940

January 1941

March 1941

June 1941

July 1941

August 1941

September 1941

November 1941

December 1941

January 1942

February 1942

April 1942

May 1942

June 1942

August 1942

September 1942

October 1942

December 1942

April 1943

Author’s Note

Select Glossary of Terms

Discussion Questions

More Information

About the National Museum of the American Latino

About the Author

About the Illustrator

Explore More

Copyright

Back Cover

Cover

Title Page

Start of Content

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back cover

September 1940

Dear Journal,

Yesterday, I reminded Mamá and Papá how much I want to study to be a teacher at the College of Mines and write for the newspaper someday. I figured that they weren’t listening, what with everything they’ve had on their minds.

Everyone says the war is coming, and it’s coming for boys like my two brothers. Hugo is in his second year of college, and Kiki is in his last year of high school. The whole thing keeps Papá up at night. I hear him pacing sometimes.

I thought no one was listening, but Mamá surprised me by giving you to me so that I can practice my writing. I’m eager to tell you all the things that no one else has time for. I don’t have a sister or a best friend, so, you see, I really needed you.

Plants with flowers growing out of cans and up a wall

I was feeling especially lonely this morning, so I sat outside our apartment, just looking at Mamá’s plants in the tin cans. The flowering vines that climb up the building’s old adobe walls somehow always cheer me up. And watching the neighbors pass by brings me comfort too. When that doesn’t work, I walk to the water pump. I can always count on a friendly face there. I ran into Señora González there this time. She’s Mamá’s older friend.

Did I ever tell you that I once danced with the famous Pancho Villa back in Mexico? she asked.

I listened and nodded. The community bathroom is not the only go-to spot for gossip on a Saturday morning.

You’d imagine that living in a two-room apartment with four other people, I’d never feel lonely. But I do. I never felt this way when I was younger. See, a lot of the kids I used to run around with have stopped being kids. It’s why I spend most of my time with my brothers these days.

Maybe being lonely is part of growing up. I said this to Mamá the other day. She smirked.

Valentina, you just turned eleven. Try and enjoy being a kid while you still can, she said.

The truth is I don’t feel like I’m a kid so much anymore.

After I watered Mamá’s plants, I waited outside for Papá to come by and say goodbye before he left for his job. He works at the American Smelting and Refining Company. That’s the official company name, but everyone who works there just calls it ASARCO. They do something with metal, though I’m not sure what. Papá often comes home with a long