I grew up in a community where Spanish and English were spoken simultaneously. My parents were definitely Spanish-dominant in their fluency and identity as Mexican immigrants. Most of their friends spoke Spanish and were from Spanish speaking countries. As a child I had to learn which of our guests primarily spoke Spanish, which often times were also the ones I gave a kiss on the cheek instead of a handshake. I lived in a bilingual and bicultural environment, but with that came moments where I had to decipher whether to use Spanish or English. Many times I was slightly relieved to be able to speak English because I had, what many would call, a pocha version of Spanish fluency.
I distinctly remember the first time I saw my abuelita smoking. I yelled across the room in astonishment, “Abuelita tu smokas!” My family laughed and at the time it seemed like their laughter echoed throughout the house. I forgot about my feeling of astonishment and felt ashamed, ashamed to not now how to speak their Spanish. It was about that time where I dreaded having to speak that other language to some of our monolingual Spanish-speaking guests or community members. It was about that time where sticking to one language became a strategy for me. I would remind myself that so-and-so only spoke or preferred Spanish, but with so-and-so English was okay.
These experiences have shaped the way I relate to being bilingual today. They relate to the ways I have decided to raise my daughter with multiple languages. Specifically, they relate to the ways I decide to communicate in Spanish or English with people in my life. With Sabrina, Spanish plays a very intimate role. Spanish is the language my mother used with me so in many ways the words flow naturally out of my mouth when I am interacting with my baby. I use Spanish freely to communicate with community members who I know are Spanish dominant in their proficiency. I have a really hard time speaking in Spanish to individuals who learned it while studying/working abroad or in school. I have a really hard time communicating with people who learned it because they love Spanish or languages. Speaking Spanish to me wasn’t a choice; it is a language I was born with.
When those individuals communicate with me in Spanish I find it to be an invasion of privacy. There is a clear distance between as — as acquaintance, as colleague, as a stranger-— and they have crossed that line. They don’t fit into my category as — guest, family member, or intimate friend. I revert to the uncomfortable tendencies toward languages and social situations as a child and cannot help but respond strictly in English. All the while hoping that they realize English is our established mode of communication and that Spanish is reserved for intimate relationships.
I have been thinking about why I choose to speak in Spanish to certain people but not to others. This has led me to question my own proficiency in Spanish because I feel uncomfortable speaking it in certain contexts, but what I have come to realize is that communicating in Spanish to me is very personal. I speak it well. I just prefer to share that intimate language I have history with, all of it connected to very special people in my life, rather than use it as if it were a skill I learned studying abroad or in school. It’s much more than that to me. It defines every fiber of my identity.
{photo by celebdu}
Thanks for being honest about your feelings on the subject. However of course as someone who doesn´t speak Spanish natively, it kind of feels like I wouldnt be “good enough” or “authentic” enough to speak spanish with you. And that almost feels like being put into a category based on what I look like or sound like. In a way I know what you mean because some people can use their spanish in a show off way. I remember being at a party with basically all people who spoke English and an American girl made all these announcements to us in Spanish. We all were like Why is she speaking spanish to us??
In a bilingual ed class we defined fluency in a language as being able to function as needed in the context you are in. I guess you can function well in the personal relationship context and if that is all you want, then it is fine. But Spanish is not just a language used in personal relationships – it is used by millions of people in all the contexts English is used in. Do you have a desire to increase your fluency in those areas (Business, literature, academia, politics)? If you do then, yes its normal to feel uncomfortable, but the more you open yourself up and practice, the more comfortable you will feel. I know that my goal for my bilingual children is to function in all areas of life in both English and Spanish – in the workplace and in their personal lives. We will have to work hard to make sure they get the exposure and experiences they need in order for this to happen.
This is a really interesting answer to the questions I have as a non-native speaker, some of which I asked in my post last week. I really appreciate your sharing this perspective, because although it makes me the “invader of privacy” when I run into others who see Spanish as their intimate language, I always prefer to know the truth than to simply feel uncomfortable and not know why. Some Spanish speakers indicate that they always want me to speak Spanish, and others act as though it’s rude of me to do so.
Do you think that those who regularly use Spanish in less intimate ways (in business, for example) also have the same attachment to it?
Such a great article! You are indeed very open and honest about choosing the people to speak Spanish with. I always like to see how people choose the languages to speak with others if they have more of them at their disposal, and it seems to be different for everybody. Most bilinguals decide with whom they can mix languages and with whom they can’t or shouldn’t. Some people say that once they decided on a language to speak with somebody, it’s very hard to change it. Annabelle writes about this in this post: http://gatoandcanard.blogspot.de/2012/09/fake-use-of-language-or-why-i-hate.html. I like to find out what language the person uses and get very confused if somebody changes language even though I’m multilingual.
However, for monolinguals, the language they heard from their mother is also the language they have to use with strangers. And yet, they ways to differentiate between the people they love and people they’re only work or do things with. Also, my husband doesn’t use the language my mother used with me, and yet I found a new way to communicate in this new language to show my love. Maybe there is a way to communicate with these people in Spanish without abusing your personal space? However, it is a decision you have to make and you can decide that speaking Spanish means getting closer to you- maybe like in many languages there are formal and informal ways to address people (like “Sie” and “du” in German) you can use Spanish as a way to say “du”?
I think it’s nice that you are willing to share this is how you feel and I can tell you you’re not alone. My Mexican husband has so many relatives in Houston that even after 7 years I’m still meeting new ones. Whenever I meet one who has been here since they were little, and insists on speaking to me in English, it feels very strange to me. That’s odd. Although I’m pretty fluent in Spanish, if they’ve been bilingual since childhood, they’re equally 100% comfortable in either language, and I’m not. You would think I’d just heave a sigh of relief and in fact I think a lot of times there’s nothing intended by it, folks just figure they’re doing me a favor. It took me a while to figure out why I feel almost offended by someone doing that. Spanish is the language at home. Yes my parents only speak English but they live far away. My older daughter only speaks English but she’s 20 and barely ever home. Day in and day out, people who are in my house, jokes/ tears/ arguments/ fears/ celebrations, most of my personal life is in Spanish. So if someone is suddenly speaking to me in English it feels just completely weird.
Thank you for this article. My native tongue is Spanish and like you, I too can not speak (have a personal conversation) in Spanish with someone who learned Spanish or with a non-native speaker. I never really could explain it to others. I didn’t know why, I just felt uncomfortable, it didn’t flow. Also, Spanish is tied to my culture and when I speak Spanish I say phrases, words, sayings that only native speakers would understand, even if the exact word differs in their country. I love speaking Spanish, I was the go to for business meetings, as the translator and whatnot, which I didn’t mind. But when having a personal conversation it’s different.
I think it’s very common at least by my experience as the non-native part of the equation. I have felt sometimes people kind of held back until they make up their mind about me. If the person is as much or more comfortable in English, and speaks with me in Spanish, I do get the feeling I’m being “let in” (and believe me… I appreciate it!)
Hmm, curious. Being a native English speaker who learned Spanish in school, I don’t really feel that possessive over my English speaking. I’m going to guess this is because I grew up in a country where English was the main language, not Spanish. I am curious what a person who grew up in a predominantly Spanish speaking country feels about this – basically, whether this is something that is unique to having spoken a language only at home versus outside your walls, or whether it’s something culturally related to Spanish (I’m guessing it would be the former, not the latter!).
Suzanne,
I think that your feelings about with whom you speak Spanish are very common among Chicanos and many other Latinos in areas of the country where Spanish and Latin American culture area looked down upon. A friend of mine who grew up in central TX was instructed as a child not to speak Spanish in school, restaurants, or anywhere public really. This is why my husband and I, and I’m sure you do the same for your children, make sure that our son sees us speaking Spanish in public contexts proudly, not in hushed whispers, but in a normal conversational tone. That is something we have to think about consciously as educated parents who have access to the best for our children and who advocate for others who don’t have the same resources available to them. I think though that being an educated, white, middle class mother of a Latino child, makes me especially militant, because I never experienced discrimination or prejudice until I saw it happen to my husband and child. But then we are all parents here and I can’t imagine any of us can stand to see people treat our children badly because of their ethnic identity.
Yikes, I didn’t imagine this post would spark so much discussion. That’s awesome. I think we are all touching on different aspects about language. First, that our ideologies about language certainly come into play. There are those who want to learn another language for economic gains, status gains, cognitive benefits etc etc
Ill try to explain myself a little further. I can appreciate being interested in a language for economic gains, hence being “able” to speak, say Spanish, in business contexts etc etc, BUT where I am coming from is different. I speak Spanish and am passing it down to my daughter, not for economic gains, not for cognitive gains, per se (those are just pluses), but because it’s part of my cultural heritage. For example, I think its interesting that the Latino community has been advocating for educational services for our Spanish speaking students for decades (in the US) and only recently have programs like dual language education been of interest for certain demographics. In other words, some would argue that one of the main reasons dual language programs have been on the rise is because white, middle to upper class parents would like their children to learn a second language for economic gains, for social gains—seeing where Im going with this?
Also, I wasn’t trying to say that I only speak Spanish with people who look Latino. Not at all. On the contrary, it all has to do with the level of intimacy we share as friends, as family, as colleagues. Lastly, “fluency” and “levels of proficiency” are such arbitrary terms. People are as fluent and as proficient as the contexts within they learned a language. When people speak about those terms in the ways that were posted on this tread it speaks a lot about the ideologies they have about what a Spanish speaker SHOULD sound like, look like within certain contexts—which are all myths about what it means to be bilingual in my book (or according to my linguistic ideology).
Another thing to consider is that “language is twin skin to identity” so having grown up in the US speaking Spanish and having been judged by it, many times, it is not so easy (for me at least) to let anyone in within that circle of speaking Spanish. In other words, Spanish speaking upper class Latinos who lived in a spanish speaking probably dont feel the same way, as spanish being pervasive unless you have a close relationship with the person. I grew up with lower class Mexican immigrant parents (and we all know what the national tone and political sentiment towards Mexicans is like) and lets just say speaking Spanish wasn’t always “so great” or viewed as having economic gains for someone with my demographic—it was shunned upon and worrisome.
Sorry I went off on a tangent. I love the discussions and topics everyone brought up. Thank you for your honesty and open to dialogue—its the way to better understanding our varying perspectives, right?
This is definitely a hot topic, Suzanne, as you noticed from the responses you’ve gotten. As a non-native speaker who began learning Spanish at the age of 9 because of spending so much time with a best friend and her family who were Colombian, my passion for Spanish is not driven by economic or even really social gain. In a sense, I believe my desire to learn Spanish and to pass it down to my children came out of a desire to find a community I felt I could belong to. This may sound odd to you since it sounds like speaking Spanish was not always something you were very proud of, which is totally understandable with the systemic discrimination and racism in this country towards Mexicans and immigrant populations in general.
The first time I traveled to Argentina, I felt I had arrived home. It changed the course of my life in every way. I discovered a “self” that I had been waiting to express for years. I always felt so insecure in the US speaking Spanish. I guess I internalized some of the feelings you speak about having towards people like me and thought “who am I to be so passionate about this language that isn’t mine?” Years after my first trip to Argentina, I married my husband who is from there, though we met in the US. I have done a good job of adopting the accent and slang, but there will always be words I don’t know and my 2 year old’s vocabulary will probably soon surpass mine.
I totally understand that uncomfortableness you speak of though, because while I walk around now everywhere speaking Spanish to my daughter, I remember when I wasn’t married to a Latino man and raising a Spanish speaking child (we only speak Spanish to her) and how I would cringe with embarrassment when my father tried out his Spanish on people he assumed spoke the language because of their skin color. I guess because I feel I have so fully adopted the culture of Argentina as well as the language that that barrier you speak of, and I have definitely felt, no longer exists for me in my daily interactions. I am still conscious of not speaking Spanish to someone just based on what they look like or assuming that someone will speak to me in Spanish because they hear me speaking with my family. But I’ve made friends because they overhear me and my family speaking Spanish, and I think it is something to be proud of. If my daughter weren’t learning Spanish, she wouldn’t be able to communicate with her grandparents or the dozens of family members back in Argentina. That, above all, is important to me. And while I’m sure it is possible to learn Spanish from one parent speaking it to you, I believe it makes it easier to have both parents doing that, which is why I persist despite being a “gringa.”
And I also think that the educational system in this country has been cruel to immigrant populations for as long as it has existed, and I choose to see the move towards dual language programs being more prevalent as progress based on globalization and the need to create less ignorant, narrow minded citizens. If you choose to see that as greedy, than you are missing the larger subtler shift in consciousness that is taking place that will hopefully make it easier on kids who may have otherwise grown up feeling like you did, split. Does it suck that it takes rich, white folks to make things happen in this country? Definitely. But if the changes being advocated for positively influence causes or communities I care about, then I don’t really care why they’re happening. I’m just grateful that there’s a dual-immersion grade school walking distance from my house!
I agree and completely relate to you, Arielle. I am also the gringa who has always had Spanish-speaking friends and significant others. I think part of the draw to the culture for me has been that as a white American, I don’t have any recognized cultural identity to cling to (don’t even know where most of my family originated from). Although there is a “white culture,” its negative connotations are not something I want to be associated with. The idea of having something positive to be a part of is much more appealing.
It’s also true that there has been a “shift in consciousness,” as you say. It might have to trickle down for now, but the more in-demand bilingual resources become, the more widely available they’ll be for the less affluent, more diverse population.
Chelsea, I agree with what you said completely! I feel the exact same way as a gringa who has always loved Latin culture and clung to it due to not really feeling any connection to it as well as the negative connotations. It’s cool to know there are other people like that out there
Thanks for your honesty and transparency in this post. I appreciate your experience. I have to admit that reading it stung a bit with a venom of disappointment and rejection. My preference is to speak Spanish with native speakers because the experience is the most authentic. I have always had this emptiness, a deep desire to connect with the Mexican family I have never been able to meet. I am mixed black and Mexican. A part of my father’s family are immigrants from Mexico. I’m sure there is some deep connection with his absence and my desire to connect to and be apart of Latino culture. I have experienced so much rejection from the African-American community. Articles like this one remind me that I truly don’t belong anywhere.
I always feel like I’m walking on pins and needles when the time comes to decide whether or not I should speak to someone in English or Spanish. If I speak Spanish will they feel offended because they think I automatically assumed that they don’t speak English? If I speak English and they aren’t comfortable with the language will I agitate any preexisting insecurities they may already have as a native Spanish speaker in a English-speaking society? If I make a grammtical error will they simply see me as a gringa and keep their distance?
My heart is always to find a personal connection…to find a place of belonging; to offer who I am, what I have to a community that has always hidden itself from me, has made elusive promises of giving me an identity. So I learn Spanish, try my best to teach my children Spanish, wrestle with teaching them Spanish, wrestle with my husband who is fluent to teach them despite his apathy to do so; immerse myself in the anthropological study of worldwide Latino culture.
The community-based work I ‘ve done here and across seas makes it all worth the trouble, but at times I sit back and the disconnect washes over me and I feel like I do now after having had read this article and I question if any of it is worth it.
As a young adult mother it is disappointing to still be contending with my own identity as I try to give my children one.
Sorry about all the grammatical errors I made in English! hahahaha It’s 1 am and I’m tired!!
Joy, my heart goes out to you.
My parents and brother (thank God and I mean that literally) are very understanding of me and accept me as I am.
However It is very hard for me to feel at home among the extended family, at work, in my neighborhood, with people the same color as me. It’s always the same when people first meet me and make assumptions about me but then when I refuse to laugh along with racist jokes you can see it on their faces. They think “oh” … It’s sometimes impossible not to notice. I’m not “in with the in crowd”.
At the same time, I’ll always be the color I am. My husband’s family… there are still frequently times when it’s too obvious I’m, well… not one of them. Let’s face it, we live in a racist culture, and that messes with everybody.
Things that have saved my sanity:
Finding a deliberately welcoming community (for me, it’s a church) where there are other “mixed” people, “mixed marriages”, people care about EVERYONE being able to feel welcome.
I try to be deliberate about making time in our busy schedule to hang out with people who think our son being bilingual and bilcultural is cool. They make me feel positive instead of negative and most importantly, that is who I want our kid to be around!
We chose our little house in a very diverse neighborhood where my son will be far from the only “mixed” kid on the playground. Also many of the kids have immigrant parents so even if ethnically they might be just one thing, these kids are still living with two different cultures inside them.
And I am blessed that my job is very international so I work with people who speak multiple languages since childhood or hold two and even three passports!
Even with all that I still feel a little sting when somebody makes a comment they probably didn’t even imagine would bother me. I have a friend who has known me very well for 9 years and is OLDER than me but she will always call me Ud! (because I am white! she says it’s how she was raised & she can’t help it!!! what can I do?) Yeah I’m used to it but I guess deep down can you ever get used to that? It’s been years so I don’t know why still to this day I sometimes just look around and suddenly it hits me I’m the only white person here, or my son is the only brown person here. You get a bit tired of being an ambassador 24/7 and wish to be a plain-old home-girl if you know what I mean.
Are you able to make connections with your husband’s family? How long or how much time have you been with them? It’s embarrassing but at some point after a while I started to just come right out and say, um, did you mean not to invite me…? Maybe it took a while for people to make up their minds about me. But now if I accidentally overhear a relative say something about me then I will overhear one of my sisters-in-law sticking up for me… of if I have to say something I know my husband will back me up (yeah that didn’t happen right away either though!)
Good luck Joy. There’s no road map!
p.s. My strategy when I meet someone new is to simply ask. “Prefiere Ud que hablemos en español or do you prefer we speak in English?” So far it has worked out ok.
I’ve sort of got a foot in each camp here – my paternal family is Chilean, while my maternal is Australian. Growing up, because my mother didn’t know Spanish, we didn’t speak any. My brother was fluent in Spanish when he was small (spent all his time with my Nana and Tata when I was a baby) but no longer remembers any Spanish whatsoever.
My Tata is fluent in English, as are my cousins, aunt and uncle, but my Nana isn’t. I decided to learn Spanish when I was 16 so I’d be able to talk with her. Now that I can vaguely speak it, she and my Tata are the only ones I speak Spanish to. If anyone else tries to speak it to me, I usually reply in English. It’s more to do with being uncomfortable that I learnt it at such a late stage (compared to my family, anyway) that I have an extremely noticeable Australian accent when I speak, and it’s something that my uncle tends to comment on, much to my embarrassment.
Though now, it seems this has worked to my brother’s disadvantage – my grandmother seems to think that he knows Spanish, and shoots it at him so fast it’d be hard for anyone to understand. He won’t go over there now unless my cousins or I are there to translate. She does the same to his girlfriend, who’s had no introduction to any Chilean/Latin culture whatsoever. (Our family basically makes up the entire Latin population where I am!)
Just curious, because I noticed a few people who have married Spanish-speakers – is it at all common to find everyone speaks in Spanish at gatherings, regardless of whether everyone understands? My mum frequently complains about it, and although I can understand why they do it, I’m just curious how you guys got around it if you didn’t know Spanish. Or, vice-versa. Thanks!
Como sus muchos millones jugadores ya van a saber, la estrategia
de King es pedir pequeños pagos para superar una sucesión de
puzzles cortos y adictivos.