For as long as I can remember I always had a hard time when it came to speaking
Spanish. It always made, and somehow, someway still makes me feel stupid that I cant seem to
maneuver this languge that is practically my identity. As someone with a Dominican and
Spaniard heritage the Spanish language is something that should be second nature to me, but it
hardly is. Everytime I think about this issue I am reminded of my grandmother. A Dominican
native who has lived in this country for over 45 years, and yet to this day she still struggles with
her English. When I think of her I start to imagine the real struggles she faced in this country not
being able to speak English. It’s at that point that I’m reminded of how small my issues are when
put in comparison to the ones she’s faced. Although I’m confronted with plenty of judgment from
friends, and family for not having the ability to speak Spanish fluently, I am content with how
much I do know. As well as how much this has motivated me to be a strong and eloquent English
speaker.

I must admit along with this lack of a Spanish speaking ability, it has brought me a lot of
shame. For years I have dealt with the criticism of my close family members, friends, family
friends, the list goes on and on. To put it this way, everyone in my family can communicate with
one another in spanish. Except for me. I am the only one who was never able to grasp onto the
second language as I did with english. Not only it brought me so much self doubt, but it’s given
me this feeling like I don’t belong to my hispanic community. Almost like I would be a
disappointment to my ancestors. I’ve tried to find the correct reason to blame it on, whether it be
my parents, my community, myself, but it never seems to make sense to me. I’ve always ignored
this matter until it became relevant to me after a trip to the Dominican Republic six years ago.

My mother was visiting family members she hadn’t seen in a very long time, this was also my
first time meeting them. Great aunts, great uncles, distant cousins, and old friends, all very eager
to meet me and to see my mother. It was when they met me and realized I didn’t know how to
speak Spanish. That made them almost jokingly look at my mother with confusion and curiosity
as to why I couldn’t speak spanish. It was an awkward moment, and it was the moment that I
realized “oh my god, this is an issue”. I’ve had many more awkward moments like that since.
Making me all the more ashamed of only knowing how to say “hola ¿cómo estás? Me llamo
Mario”. It’s more frustrating than anything. Although I’ve endured plenty it’s in moments like
these that I am once again reminded of my grandmother and her struggles.

I often say that at 83 years old my grandmother knows as much English as I know spanish.
This statement holds so much more meaning than initially intended. I often tell her that as best as
I can in my broken spanish. I also make sure to point out that she has lived here for almost half
of her life, and yet she has only picked up on a little bit of the language which I question. To
which she always enlightens me with her experiences as to why. Illustrating the time period and
culture that her community had when she moved to NYC in the mid 70’s. Telling me how she
really had no desire to learn english at the time being that everyone around her spoke spanish,
But the reality was that she was in an english speaking country. So due to that she did have many
instances where she was spoken to in English, and she had no way of knowing how to respond.
Making it an embarrassing moment and just overall disappointing to herself. We often compare
our experiences as best as we can trying to understand each other’s forms of broken English and
spanish. As much as she understands my struggle and want to learn spanish, she constantly tells
me that I should learn to accept how far i’ve come speaking the language and just focus on

english. I look at her in confusion, thinking that it’s counterintuitive, but it’s then that she
explains that I have the gift of speaking a widely known language and that I should perfect it as
much as possible. Instead of trying to appease others by speaking spanish. It’s then that I view
my situation in a different perspective and agree with what she says. Instead of doing this for the
sake of pleasing my family, and friends I should just continue to focus on what I already know
best. It saddens me sometimes thinking I may never be able to hold a fluent conversation with
someone like my grandmother, but on the contrary it brings me peace that someone like her
would want me to stop struggling with something like that, and to just focus on what really is
important.

In the more recent years I have since accepted my Spanish speaking skill set, or lack
thereof. Instead of feeling the shame I once used to, I now hold myself with confidence.
Knowing that although I may never know Spanish as well as my parents, or siblings, I know that
I have redirected my focus to something that can allow me endless opportunities in many places.
To make my English the best it can possibly be. I have found that this struggle I have faced has
been the driving force that has led me to perfect both my english writing, and my communication
skills all together. I felt that if my Spanish isn’t going to be good, then I should most definitely
make my English my strong suit. Instead of feeling the need to impress others by learning a
language I don’t use everyday, I stopped and thought to myself, why exactly am I doing all this to
please others. In a way I would be backtracking instead of progressing. Meaning that if I
were to stop progressing my english speaking capabilities to learn this language it would
be for nothing. Only because Spanish speaking has become such a small part of my life at this
point.

So to think that I once thought I was letting so many people down by not speaking this
language that should be a major part of my life, it seems so immature. I’m far beyond that
negative way of thinking now. I’ll still admit that I do have a hard time speaking Spanish and that
yes, I may feel foolish at times for not understanding the language. The only difference is that
now I have accepted my flawed way of speaking Spanish, Only because I have confidently found
that this is what has made me the great English speaker I am today. Instead of finding shame in it
all, I have found a reason to be grateful. So for that reason I hold my inability to speak Spanish
without disappointment, but with grace.