TASC Reading Practice Quiz 2
Read the following passage and answer the question: In this passage a Mexican American historian describes a technique she used as part of her research. Doña Teodora offered me yet another cup of strong, black coffee. The aroma of the big, paper-thin Sonoran tortillas filled the small, linoleum-covered kitchen, and I Line knew that with the coffee I would receive a buttered tortilla 5 straight from the round, homemade comal (a flat, earthen- ware cooking pan) balanced on the gas-burning stove. For three days, from ten in the morning until early evening, I had been sitting in the same comfortable wooden chair, taking cup after cup of black coffee and consuming hot 10 tortillas. Doña Teodora was ninety years old, and although she would take occasional breaks from patting, extending, and turning over tortillas to let her cat in or out, it appeared that I was the only one exhausted at the end of the day. But once out, as I went over the notes, filed and organized the 15 tape cassettes, exhilaration would set in. The intellectual and emotional excitement I had previously experienced when a pertinent document would suddenly appear now waned in comparison to the gestures and words, the joy and anger doña Teodora offered. 20 She had not written down her thoughts; but the ideas, recollections, and images evoked by her lively oral expres- sion were jewels for anyone who wanted to know about the life of Mexicanas * in booming mining towns on both sides of the Mexico-United States border in the early twentieth 25 century. She never kept a diary. The thought of writing a memoir would have been put aside as presumptuous. But all her life doña Teodora had lived amidst the telling and retelling of family stories. Genealogies of her own family as well as complete and up-to-date information of the 30 marriages, births, and deaths of numerous families that made up her community were all well-kept memories. These chains of generations were fleshed out with recollec- tions of the many events and tribulations of these families. Oral history had proven to be a fertile field for my research 35 on the history of Mexicanas. My search had begun in libraries and archives—reposi- tories of conventional history. The available sources were to be found in census reports, church records, directories, and other such statistical information. These, however, as 40 important as they are, cannot provide one of the essential dimensions of history, the full narrative of the human experience that defies quantification and classification. In certain social groups this gap can be filled with diaries, memoirs, letters, or even reports from others. In the case of 45 Mexicanas in the United States, one of the many devastating consequences of defeat and conquest has been that the traditional institutions that preserve and transfer culture (the documentation of the past) have ignored these personal written sources. The letters, writings, and documents of 50 Mexican people have rarely, if ever, been included in archives, special collections, or libraries. At best, some centers have attempted to collect newspapers published by Mexicans, but the effort was started late. The historian who tries to reconstruct the past from newspapers is constantly 55 frustrated because, although titles abound, collections are scarce and often incomplete. Although many hours of previous study and preparation had taken me to doña Teodora's kitchen, I was initially unsure of my place. Was I really an insider or were the 60 experiences that had made the lives of my interviewees such that, although I could speak Spanish and am Mexicana, I was still an outsider? I realized, nonetheless, that the richness and depth of the spoken word challenges the comforting theories and models 65 of the social sciences. Mexican history challenges social- science models derived solely from victorious imperialistic experiences. Our history cannot be written without new sources. These sources will determine which concepts are needed to 70 illuminate and interpret the past, and these concepts will emerge from the people themselves. This will permit the description of events and structures to assume a culturally relevant perspective, thus emphasizing the point of view of the Mexican people. The use of theoretical constructs must 75 follow the voices of the people who live the reality, con- sciously or not. For too long the experiences of women have been studied according to male-oriented sources and constructs. These must be questioned. For the history of Mexican people, the sources primarily exist in our own 80 worlds. And it is here where we must begin. I often found that as the memory awakened, other sources would emerge. Boxes of letters, photographs, and even manuscripts and diaries would appear. Long-standing assumptions of illiteracy were shattered and had to be reexamined. I saw 85 that constant reevaluation became the rule rather than the exception. I entered women's worlds created on the margin —not only of Anglo life, but of, and outside of, the lives of their own fathers, husbands, sons, brothers, or priests, bosses, and bureaucrats. The author's comments in the third paragraph (lines 36-56) suggest that her research project resembles more conventional research in its
Correct!
Wrong!
Choice ("use of written public materials as a starting point") is correct. The author identifies the starting point of her research project when she writes “My search had begun in libraries and archives—repositories of conventional history” (lines 36-37). In these places, she discovered that the “available sources were to be found in census reports, church records, directories, and other such statistical information” (lines 37-39). These sources all share the characteristic of being written public materials.
Read the following passage and answer the question: In this passage a Mexican American historian describes a technique she used as part of her research. Doña Teodora offered me yet another cup of strong, black coffee. The aroma of the big, paper-thin Sonoran tortillas filled the small, linoleum-covered kitchen, and I Line knew that with the coffee I would receive a buttered tortilla 5 straight from the round, homemade comal (a flat, earthen- ware cooking pan) balanced on the gas-burning stove. For three days, from ten in the morning until early evening, I had been sitting in the same comfortable wooden chair, taking cup after cup of black coffee and consuming hot 10 tortillas. Doña Teodora was ninety years old, and although she would take occasional breaks from patting, extending, and turning over tortillas to let her cat in or out, it appeared that I was the only one exhausted at the end of the day. But once out, as I went over the notes, filed and organized the 15 tape cassettes, exhilaration would set in. The intellectual and emotional excitement I had previously experienced when a pertinent document would suddenly appear now waned in comparison to the gestures and words, the joy and anger doña Teodora offered. 20 She had not written down her thoughts; but the ideas, recollections, and images evoked by her lively oral expres- sion were jewels for anyone who wanted to know about the life of Mexicanas * in booming mining towns on both sides of the Mexico-United States border in the early twentieth 25 century. She never kept a diary. The thought of writing a memoir would have been put aside as presumptuous. But all her life doña Teodora had lived amidst the telling and retelling of family stories. Genealogies of her own family as well as complete and up-to-date information of the 30 marriages, births, and deaths of numerous families that made up her community were all well-kept memories. These chains of generations were fleshed out with recollec- tions of the many events and tribulations of these families. Oral history had proven to be a fertile field for my research 35 on the history of Mexicanas. My search had begun in libraries and archives—reposi- tories of conventional history. The available sources were to be found in census reports, church records, directories, and other such statistical information. These, however, as 40 important as they are, cannot provide one of the essential dimensions of history, the full narrative of the human experience that defies quantification and classification. In certain social groups this gap can be filled with diaries, memoirs, letters, or even reports from others. In the case of 45 Mexicanas in the United States, one of the many devastating consequences of defeat and conquest has been that the traditional institutions that preserve and transfer culture (the documentation of the past) have ignored these personal written sources. The letters, writings, and documents of 50 Mexican people have rarely, if ever, been included in archives, special collections, or libraries. At best, some centers have attempted to collect newspapers published by Mexicans, but the effort was started late. The historian who tries to reconstruct the past from newspapers is constantly 55 frustrated because, although titles abound, collections are scarce and often incomplete. Although many hours of previous study and preparation had taken me to doña Teodora's kitchen, I was initially unsure of my place. Was I really an insider or were the 60 experiences that had made the lives of my interviewees such that, although I could speak Spanish and am Mexicana, I was still an outsider? I realized, nonetheless, that the richness and depth of the spoken word challenges the comforting theories and models 65 of the social sciences. Mexican history challenges social- science models derived solely from victorious imperialistic experiences. Our history cannot be written without new sources. These sources will determine which concepts are needed to 70 illuminate and interpret the past, and these concepts will emerge from the people themselves. This will permit the description of events and structures to assume a culturally relevant perspective, thus emphasizing the point of view of the Mexican people. The use of theoretical constructs must 75 follow the voices of the people who live the reality, con- sciously or not. For too long the experiences of women have been studied according to male-oriented sources and constructs. These must be questioned. For the history of Mexican people, the sources primarily exist in our own 80 worlds. And it is here where we must begin. I often found that as the memory awakened, other sources would emerge. Boxes of letters, photographs, and even manuscripts and diaries would appear. Long-standing assumptions of illiteracy were shattered and had to be reexamined. I saw 85 that constant reevaluation became the rule rather than the exception. I entered women's worlds created on the margin —not only of Anglo life, but of, and outside of, the lives of their own fathers, husbands, sons, brothers, or priests, bosses, and bureaucrats. In what sense are "census reports, church records, directories" (line 38) inadequate?
Correct!
Wrong!
Choice ("They do not tell the human side of the story.") is correct. The “census reports, church records and directories” (line 38) are representative of the “available sources” (line 37) that the author finds inadequate specifically because they “cannot provide one of the essential dimensions of history, the full narrative of the human experience” (lines 40-42). That is, they do not tell the human side of the story.
Read the following passage and answer the question: In this passage a Mexican American historian describes a technique she used as part of her research. Doña Teodora offered me yet another cup of strong, black coffee. The aroma of the big, paper-thin Sonoran tortillas filled the small, linoleum-covered kitchen, and I Line knew that with the coffee I would receive a buttered tortilla 5 straight from the round, homemade comal (a flat, earthen- ware cooking pan) balanced on the gas-burning stove. For three days, from ten in the morning until early evening, I had been sitting in the same comfortable wooden chair, taking cup after cup of black coffee and consuming hot 10 tortillas. Doña Teodora was ninety years old, and although she would take occasional breaks from patting, extending, and turning over tortillas to let her cat in or out, it appeared that I was the only one exhausted at the end of the day. But once out, as I went over the notes, filed and organized the 15 tape cassettes, exhilaration would set in. The intellectual and emotional excitement I had previously experienced when a pertinent document would suddenly appear now waned in comparison to the gestures and words, the joy and anger doña Teodora offered. 20 She had not written down her thoughts; but the ideas, recollections, and images evoked by her lively oral expres- sion were jewels for anyone who wanted to know about the life of Mexicanas * in booming mining towns on both sides of the Mexico-United States border in the early twentieth 25 century. She never kept a diary. The thought of writing a memoir would have been put aside as presumptuous. But all her life doña Teodora had lived amidst the telling and retelling of family stories. Genealogies of her own family as well as complete and up-to-date information of the 30 marriages, births, and deaths of numerous families that made up her community were all well-kept memories. These chains of generations were fleshed out with recollec- tions of the many events and tribulations of these families. Oral history had proven to be a fertile field for my research 35 on the history of Mexicanas. My search had begun in libraries and archives—reposi- tories of conventional history. The available sources were to be found in census reports, church records, directories, and other such statistical information. These, however, as 40 important as they are, cannot provide one of the essential dimensions of history, the full narrative of the human experience that defies quantification and classification. In certain social groups this gap can be filled with diaries, memoirs, letters, or even reports from others. In the case of 45 Mexicanas in the United States, one of the many devastating consequences of defeat and conquest has been that the traditional institutions that preserve and transfer culture (the documentation of the past) have ignored these personal written sources. The letters, writings, and documents of 50 Mexican people have rarely, if ever, been included in archives, special collections, or libraries. At best, some centers have attempted to collect newspapers published by Mexicans, but the effort was started late. The historian who tries to reconstruct the past from newspapers is constantly 55 frustrated because, although titles abound, collections are scarce and often incomplete. Although many hours of previous study and preparation had taken me to doña Teodora's kitchen, I was initially unsure of my place. Was I really an insider or were the 60 experiences that had made the lives of my interviewees such that, although I could speak Spanish and am Mexicana, I was still an outsider? I realized, nonetheless, that the richness and depth of the spoken word challenges the comforting theories and models 65 of the social sciences. Mexican history challenges social- science models derived solely from victorious imperialistic experiences. Our history cannot be written without new sources. These sources will determine which concepts are needed to 70 illuminate and interpret the past, and these concepts will emerge from the people themselves. This will permit the description of events and structures to assume a culturally relevant perspective, thus emphasizing the point of view of the Mexican people. The use of theoretical constructs must 75 follow the voices of the people who live the reality, con- sciously or not. For too long the experiences of women have been studied according to male-oriented sources and constructs. These must be questioned. For the history of Mexican people, the sources primarily exist in our own 80 worlds. And it is here where we must begin. I often found that as the memory awakened, other sources would emerge. Boxes of letters, photographs, and even manuscripts and diaries would appear. Long-standing assumptions of illiteracy were shattered and had to be reexamined. I saw 85 that constant reevaluation became the rule rather than the exception. I entered women's worlds created on the margin —not only of Anglo life, but of, and outside of, the lives of their own fathers, husbands, sons, brothers, or priests, bosses, and bureaucrats. The "gap" referred to in line 43 can best be described as the distance between the
Correct!
Wrong!
Choice ("pictures presented by traditional historical sources and by subjective personal accounts ") is correct. The “gap” (line 43) is discussed in the context of written sources and the pictures of life they represent. The author discovered that fact-based conventional records lacked “one of the essential dimensions of history, the full narrative of the human experience” (lines 40-42). She suggests that “diaries, memoirs, and letters” (lines 43-44), which are included in the category of “personal written sources” (lines 48-49), would present that other viewpoint. The “gap” lies between these two types of sources.
Read the following passage and answer the question: In this passage a Mexican American historian describes a technique she used as part of her research. Doña Teodora offered me yet another cup of strong, black coffee. The aroma of the big, paper-thin Sonoran tortillas filled the small, linoleum-covered kitchen, and I Line knew that with the coffee I would receive a buttered tortilla 5 straight from the round, homemade comal (a flat, earthen- ware cooking pan) balanced on the gas-burning stove. For three days, from ten in the morning until early evening, I had been sitting in the same comfortable wooden chair, taking cup after cup of black coffee and consuming hot 10 tortillas. Doña Teodora was ninety years old, and although she would take occasional breaks from patting, extending, and turning over tortillas to let her cat in or out, it appeared that I was the only one exhausted at the end of the day. But once out, as I went over the notes, filed and organized the 15 tape cassettes, exhilaration would set in. The intellectual and emotional excitement I had previously experienced when a pertinent document would suddenly appear now waned in comparison to the gestures and words, the joy and anger doña Teodora offered. 20 She had not written down her thoughts; but the ideas, recollections, and images evoked by her lively oral expres- sion were jewels for anyone who wanted to know about the life of Mexicanas * in booming mining towns on both sides of the Mexico-United States border in the early twentieth 25 century. She never kept a diary. The thought of writing a memoir would have been put aside as presumptuous. But all her life doña Teodora had lived amidst the telling and retelling of family stories. Genealogies of her own family as well as complete and up-to-date information of the 30 marriages, births, and deaths of numerous families that made up her community were all well-kept memories. These chains of generations were fleshed out with recollec- tions of the many events and tribulations of these families. Oral history had proven to be a fertile field for my research 35 on the history of Mexicanas. My search had begun in libraries and archives—reposi- tories of conventional history. The available sources were to be found in census reports, church records, directories, and other such statistical information. These, however, as 40 important as they are, cannot provide one of the essential dimensions of history, the full narrative of the human experience that defies quantification and classification. In certain social groups this gap can be filled with diaries, memoirs, letters, or even reports from others. In the case of 45 Mexicanas in the United States, one of the many devastating consequences of defeat and conquest has been that the traditional institutions that preserve and transfer culture (the documentation of the past) have ignored these personal written sources. The letters, writings, and documents of 50 Mexican people have rarely, if ever, been included in archives, special collections, or libraries. At best, some centers have attempted to collect newspapers published by Mexicans, but the effort was started late. The historian who tries to reconstruct the past from newspapers is constantly 55 frustrated because, although titles abound, collections are scarce and often incomplete. Although many hours of previous study and preparation had taken me to doña Teodora's kitchen, I was initially unsure of my place. Was I really an insider or were the 60 experiences that had made the lives of my interviewees such that, although I could speak Spanish and am Mexicana, I was still an outsider? I realized, nonetheless, that the richness and depth of the spoken word challenges the comforting theories and models 65 of the social sciences. Mexican history challenges social- science models derived solely from victorious imperialistic experiences. Our history cannot be written without new sources. These sources will determine which concepts are needed to 70 illuminate and interpret the past, and these concepts will emerge from the people themselves. This will permit the description of events and structures to assume a culturally relevant perspective, thus emphasizing the point of view of the Mexican people. The use of theoretical constructs must 75 follow the voices of the people who live the reality, con- sciously or not. For too long the experiences of women have been studied according to male-oriented sources and constructs. These must be questioned. For the history of Mexican people, the sources primarily exist in our own 80 worlds. And it is here where we must begin. I often found that as the memory awakened, other sources would emerge. Boxes of letters, photographs, and even manuscripts and diaries would appear. Long-standing assumptions of illiteracy were shattered and had to be reexamined. I saw 85 that constant reevaluation became the rule rather than the exception. I entered women's worlds created on the margin —not only of Anglo life, but of, and outside of, the lives of their own fathers, husbands, sons, brothers, or priests, bosses, and bureaucrats. In line 59, "place" most nearly means
Correct!
Wrong!
Choice ("role") is correct. A "role" is the position or the expected social behavior of an individual. When the author writes "I was initially unsure of my place" (lines 58-59), she is expressing uncertainty about how she should think of herself and about how she is perceived by doña Teodora and other Mexicana interviewees. In this context, "place" refers to her social "role." This is made clear in the subsequent text, when she wonders if, despite speaking Spanish and being Mexicana, she is an "insider" (line 59) or an "outsider" (line 62).
Read the following passage and answer the question: In this passage a Mexican American historian describes a technique she used as part of her research. Doña Teodora offered me yet another cup of strong, black coffee. The aroma of the big, paper-thin Sonoran tortillas filled the small, linoleum-covered kitchen, and I Line knew that with the coffee I would receive a buttered tortilla 5 straight from the round, homemade comal (a flat, earthen- ware cooking pan) balanced on the gas-burning stove. For three days, from ten in the morning until early evening, I had been sitting in the same comfortable wooden chair, taking cup after cup of black coffee and consuming hot 10 tortillas. Doña Teodora was ninety years old, and although she would take occasional breaks from patting, extending, and turning over tortillas to let her cat in or out, it appeared that I was the only one exhausted at the end of the day. But once out, as I went over the notes, filed and organized the 15 tape cassettes, exhilaration would set in. The intellectual and emotional excitement I had previously experienced when a pertinent document would suddenly appear now waned in comparison to the gestures and words, the joy and anger doña Teodora offered. 20 She had not written down her thoughts; but the ideas, recollections, and images evoked by her lively oral expres- sion were jewels for anyone who wanted to know about the life of Mexicanas * in booming mining towns on both sides of the Mexico-United States border in the early twentieth 25 century. She never kept a diary. The thought of writing a memoir would have been put aside as presumptuous. But all her life doña Teodora had lived amidst the telling and retelling of family stories. Genealogies of her own family as well as complete and up-to-date information of the 30 marriages, births, and deaths of numerous families that made up her community were all well-kept memories. These chains of generations were fleshed out with recollec- tions of the many events and tribulations of these families. Oral history had proven to be a fertile field for my research 35 on the history of Mexicanas. My search had begun in libraries and archives—reposi- tories of conventional history. The available sources were to be found in census reports, church records, directories, and other such statistical information. These, however, as 40 important as they are, cannot provide one of the essential dimensions of history, the full narrative of the human experience that defies quantification and classification. In certain social groups this gap can be filled with diaries, memoirs, letters, or even reports from others. In the case of 45 Mexicanas in the United States, one of the many devastating consequences of defeat and conquest has been that the traditional institutions that preserve and transfer culture (the documentation of the past) have ignored these personal written sources. The letters, writings, and documents of 50 Mexican people have rarely, if ever, been included in archives, special collections, or libraries. At best, some centers have attempted to collect newspapers published by Mexicans, but the effort was started late. The historian who tries to reconstruct the past from newspapers is constantly 55 frustrated because, although titles abound, collections are scarce and often incomplete. Although many hours of previous study and preparation had taken me to doña Teodora's kitchen, I was initially unsure of my place. Was I really an insider or were the 60 experiences that had made the lives of my interviewees such that, although I could speak Spanish and am Mexicana, I was still an outsider? I realized, nonetheless, that the richness and depth of the spoken word challenges the comforting theories and models 65 of the social sciences. Mexican history challenges social- science models derived solely from victorious imperialistic experiences. Our history cannot be written without new sources. These sources will determine which concepts are needed to 70 illuminate and interpret the past, and these concepts will emerge from the people themselves. This will permit the description of events and structures to assume a culturally relevant perspective, thus emphasizing the point of view of the Mexican people. The use of theoretical constructs must 75 follow the voices of the people who live the reality, con- sciously or not. For too long the experiences of women have been studied according to male-oriented sources and constructs. These must be questioned. For the history of Mexican people, the sources primarily exist in our own 80 worlds. And it is here where we must begin. I often found that as the memory awakened, other sources would emerge. Boxes of letters, photographs, and even manuscripts and diaries would appear. Long-standing assumptions of illiteracy were shattered and had to be reexamined. I saw 85 that constant reevaluation became the rule rather than the exception. I entered women's worlds created on the margin —not only of Anglo life, but of, and outside of, the lives of their own fathers, husbands, sons, brothers, or priests, bosses, and bureaucrats. What is the effect of the question in lines 59-62?
Correct!
Wrong!
Choice ("It suggests that sharing ethnicity and language might not be enough to make one an insider.") is correct. The author acknowledges that she is connected to doña Teodora and other Mexicana interviewees through their shared ethnicity and language. She writes, "I could speak Spanish and am Mexicana" (line 61). Yet the author wonders if she was "still an outsider" (line 62). The fact that she raises this question suggests that sharing these common bonds might not be enough to make her an insider.
Read the following passage and answer the question: In this passage a Mexican American historian describes a technique she used as part of her research. Doña Teodora offered me yet another cup of strong, black coffee. The aroma of the big, paper-thin Sonoran tortillas filled the small, linoleum-covered kitchen, and I Line knew that with the coffee I would receive a buttered tortilla 5 straight from the round, homemade comal (a flat, earthen- ware cooking pan) balanced on the gas-burning stove. For three days, from ten in the morning until early evening, I had been sitting in the same comfortable wooden chair, taking cup after cup of black coffee and consuming hot 10 tortillas. Doña Teodora was ninety years old, and although she would take occasional breaks from patting, extending, and turning over tortillas to let her cat in or out, it appeared that I was the only one exhausted at the end of the day. But once out, as I went over the notes, filed and organized the 15 tape cassettes, exhilaration would set in. The intellectual and emotional excitement I had previously experienced when a pertinent document would suddenly appear now waned in comparison to the gestures and words, the joy and anger doña Teodora offered. 20 She had not written down her thoughts; but the ideas, recollections, and images evoked by her lively oral expres- sion were jewels for anyone who wanted to know about the life of Mexicanas * in booming mining towns on both sides of the Mexico-United States border in the early twentieth 25 century. She never kept a diary. The thought of writing a memoir would have been put aside as presumptuous. But all her life doña Teodora had lived amidst the telling and retelling of family stories. Genealogies of her own family as well as complete and up-to-date information of the 30 marriages, births, and deaths of numerous families that made up her community were all well-kept memories. These chains of generations were fleshed out with recollec- tions of the many events and tribulations of these families. Oral history had proven to be a fertile field for my research 35 on the history of Mexicanas. My search had begun in libraries and archives—reposi- tories of conventional history. The available sources were to be found in census reports, church records, directories, and other such statistical information. These, however, as 40 important as they are, cannot provide one of the essential dimensions of history, the full narrative of the human experience that defies quantification and classification. In certain social groups this gap can be filled with diaries, memoirs, letters, or even reports from others. In the case of 45 Mexicanas in the United States, one of the many devastating consequences of defeat and conquest has been that the traditional institutions that preserve and transfer culture (the documentation of the past) have ignored these personal written sources. The letters, writings, and documents of 50 Mexican people have rarely, if ever, been included in archives, special collections, or libraries. At best, some centers have attempted to collect newspapers published by Mexicans, but the effort was started late. The historian who tries to reconstruct the past from newspapers is constantly 55 frustrated because, although titles abound, collections are scarce and often incomplete. Although many hours of previous study and preparation had taken me to doña Teodora's kitchen, I was initially unsure of my place. Was I really an insider or were the 60 experiences that had made the lives of my interviewees such that, although I could speak Spanish and am Mexicana, I was still an outsider? I realized, nonetheless, that the richness and depth of the spoken word challenges the comforting theories and models 65 of the social sciences. Mexican history challenges social- science models derived solely from victorious imperialistic experiences. Our history cannot be written without new sources. These sources will determine which concepts are needed to 70 illuminate and interpret the past, and these concepts will emerge from the people themselves. This will permit the description of events and structures to assume a culturally relevant perspective, thus emphasizing the point of view of the Mexican people. The use of theoretical constructs must 75 follow the voices of the people who live the reality, con- sciously or not. For too long the experiences of women have been studied according to male-oriented sources and constructs. These must be questioned. For the history of Mexican people, the sources primarily exist in our own 80 worlds. And it is here where we must begin. I often found that as the memory awakened, other sources would emerge. Boxes of letters, photographs, and even manuscripts and diaries would appear. Long-standing assumptions of illiteracy were shattered and had to be reexamined. I saw 85 that constant reevaluation became the rule rather than the exception. I entered women's worlds created on the margin —not only of Anglo life, but of, and outside of, the lives of their own fathers, husbands, sons, brothers, or priests, bosses, and bureaucrats. Which statement most accurately presents the author's sense of the relationship between the "spoken word" (line 64) and the "theories and models of the social sciences" (lines 64-65)?
Correct!
Wrong!
Choice ("The spoken word can yield greater insight than presently accepted theories and models can.') is correct. The author suggests that the spoken word can provide greater insight than the existing theories and models that are “derived solely from victorious imperialistic experiences” (lines 66-67). These presently accepted theories and models are considered problematic by the author because they were developed without the insights of the Mexican people. She argues that “theoretical constructs must follow the voices of the people who live the reality” (lines 74-75).
Read the following passage and answer the question: In this passage a Mexican American historian describes a technique she used as part of her research. Doña Teodora offered me yet another cup of strong, black coffee. The aroma of the big, paper-thin Sonoran tortillas filled the small, linoleum-covered kitchen, and I Line knew that with the coffee I would receive a buttered tortilla 5 straight from the round, homemade comal (a flat, earthen- ware cooking pan) balanced on the gas-burning stove. For three days, from ten in the morning until early evening, I had been sitting in the same comfortable wooden chair, taking cup after cup of black coffee and consuming hot 10 tortillas. Doña Teodora was ninety years old, and although she would take occasional breaks from patting, extending, and turning over tortillas to let her cat in or out, it appeared that I was the only one exhausted at the end of the day. But once out, as I went over the notes, filed and organized the 15 tape cassettes, exhilaration would set in. The intellectual and emotional excitement I had previously experienced when a pertinent document would suddenly appear now waned in comparison to the gestures and words, the joy and anger doña Teodora offered. 20 She had not written down her thoughts; but the ideas, recollections, and images evoked by her lively oral expres- sion were jewels for anyone who wanted to know about the life of Mexicanas * in booming mining towns on both sides of the Mexico-United States border in the early twentieth 25 century. She never kept a diary. The thought of writing a memoir would have been put aside as presumptuous. But all her life doña Teodora had lived amidst the telling and retelling of family stories. Genealogies of her own family as well as complete and up-to-date information of the 30 marriages, births, and deaths of numerous families that made up her community were all well-kept memories. These chains of generations were fleshed out with recollec- tions of the many events and tribulations of these families. Oral history had proven to be a fertile field for my research 35 on the history of Mexicanas. My search had begun in libraries and archives—reposi- tories of conventional history. The available sources were to be found in census reports, church records, directories, and other such statistical information. These, however, as 40 important as they are, cannot provide one of the essential dimensions of history, the full narrative of the human experience that defies quantification and classification. In certain social groups this gap can be filled with diaries, memoirs, letters, or even reports from others. In the case of 45 Mexicanas in the United States, one of the many devastating consequences of defeat and conquest has been that the traditional institutions that preserve and transfer culture (the documentation of the past) have ignored these personal written sources. The letters, writings, and documents of 50 Mexican people have rarely, if ever, been included in archives, special collections, or libraries. At best, some centers have attempted to collect newspapers published by Mexicans, but the effort was started late. The historian who tries to reconstruct the past from newspapers is constantly 55 frustrated because, although titles abound, collections are scarce and often incomplete. Although many hours of previous study and preparation had taken me to doña Teodora's kitchen, I was initially unsure of my place. Was I really an insider or were the 60 experiences that had made the lives of my interviewees such that, although I could speak Spanish and am Mexicana, I was still an outsider? I realized, nonetheless, that the richness and depth of the spoken word challenges the comforting theories and models 65 of the social sciences. Mexican history challenges social- science models derived solely from victorious imperialistic experiences. Our history cannot be written without new sources. These sources will determine which concepts are needed to 70 illuminate and interpret the past, and these concepts will emerge from the people themselves. This will permit the description of events and structures to assume a culturally relevant perspective, thus emphasizing the point of view of the Mexican people. The use of theoretical constructs must 75 follow the voices of the people who live the reality, con- sciously or not. For too long the experiences of women have been studied according to male-oriented sources and constructs. These must be questioned. For the history of Mexican people, the sources primarily exist in our own 80 worlds. And it is here where we must begin. I often found that as the memory awakened, other sources would emerge. Boxes of letters, photographs, and even manuscripts and diaries would appear. Long-standing assumptions of illiteracy were shattered and had to be reexamined. I saw 85 that constant reevaluation became the rule rather than the exception. I entered women's worlds created on the margin —not only of Anglo life, but of, and outside of, the lives of their own fathers, husbands, sons, brothers, or priests, bosses, and bureaucrats. The author indicates that the "concepts" mentioned in lines 69-70 originate in
Correct!
Wrong!
Choice ("informal records and information provided by ordinary people") is correct. Lines 69-70 suggest that the “concepts” will originate in the “new sources” (line 68), which, the passage implies, are the oral histories and personal written sources of ordinary people. These new sources of information “will determine which concepts are needed to illuminate and interpret the past, and these concepts will emerge from the people themselves” (lines 69-71).