Overcoming My Insecurities With Learning Spanish as a Latina

Being raised in a Latinx household, it was only natural that I’d be exposed to two languages from a young age—English and Spanish. However, much to my dismay, one language took precedence over the other and that was English. Don’t get me wrong, I heard Spanish being spoken around me all the time. My parents would often talk to each other in Spanish and it’s all my dad spoke when he called our relatives in Mexico. I grew up listening to mariachi and banda and watched telenovelas on Telemundo and Univision. Spanish was far from being a foreign tongue to me, but I have never been fluent in it. This is something that has created feelings of shame and embarrassment for me at different points in my life. 

It wasn’t my mother and father’s intent to not speak Spanish to my siblings and me. Some Latinx parents make the conscious decision to only speak English to their kids so that they don’t have a difficult time in school. But that wasn’t the case for my family. We just always spoke English at home. While most of my mom’s side of the family was bilingual, I always communicated with my aunts, uncles, and cousins in English. The majority of my dad’s side of the family is in Mexico, so my communication with them was limited as I was growing up. I’ve made attempts to learn Spanish and experienced some success, but I’ve yet to achieve the fluency I wish for. I became hopeful again when my job introduced a language learning program that employees could take for free. Would this be my chance to finally grasp the mother tongue of my ancestors? 

As a Mexican American, I’m no stranger to dealing with dualities, whether cultural or lingual. Although I’m from the U.S., I’ve felt strong ties to my Mexican roots from a young age. The one thing that has held me back from fully connecting with my cultura is the language barrier. How I envy those who are bilingual and able to seamlessly transition between English and Spanish. I first became aware of my shortcoming when I would spend time with relatives from my dad’s side of the family. My dad has a brother and sister who also came over to the United States from Mexico. My tío and tía raised their kids with Spanish as their first language. This made it a bit challenging to talk with my cousins at times. I knew that my family in Mexico wondered why my siblings and I just didn’t learn español, and I couldn’t help but ask myself the same question. Should it have come naturally since Spanish was my father’s first language and most of my mom’s family was bilingual? 

My first moment of humiliation happened when I was a teen. I was preparing for my quinceañera and the Catholic church we attended gave the choice to do the mass in English or Spanish. My parents and I chose Spanish. My quinceañera was an occasion I was very excited about and I wanted to experience the ceremony in the traditional way. I was going to be participating in the church service with other girls and there was an orientation we all had to attend with our parents and padrinos. Of course, it was held in Spanish. 

As I was sitting there, I tried to make out what words I could. I was only in level two of Spanish at my high school. Then came the part where the presenter leading the discussion asked a question. He was going to go around to get an answer from every participant. I was terrified and hoped I wasn’t the only one that didn’t know Spanish. When it was my turn, I stood up and asked if the question could be translated to English. The audible gasp that resounded throughout the hall burned my ears. I heard whispers most likely expressing shock that I dare take part in such a sacred Latin American rite of passage and not know the mother tongue. I was so embarrassed. I couldn’t help but feel that I embarrassed my family as well. 

High school gave me my first opportunity to learn Spanish. I was committed to my studies. I had high hopes that I would be bilingual by the time I graduated. Since I was exposed to Spanish growing up, I didn’t have a problem with pronunciation or remembering words and phrases. I did so well that I managed to work my way up to the AP level by my senior year. While I certainly knew more than I did when I started, having full conversations was still challenging and I didn’t practice enough after high school to make sure the language stuck. 

My years working in retail in Los Angeles, where there’s a large population of Latinxs, gave me many chances to put my Spanish language skills to the test when helping clients. I would do okay in these situations but always lacked the confidence. I was self-conscious that I didn’t sound like a native speaker and had trouble stringing together sentences. But these moments helped me shake the dust off my español and expand my vocabulary. When I switched industries and began doing editorial work, those opportunities happened less frequently. There were times when I tried talking to my dad in Spanish, but, funnily enough, I think it felt strange to both of us. Speaking English to each other came more naturally because it’s how I was raised. 

Often, I’m disappointed in myself for not understanding and speaking Spanish because I think of my father. When he came to the U.S., he learned English and is able to communicate comfortably with people. It’s hard work to learn another language and if my dad did it, then I should learn Spanish out of respect for his efforts. As a proud Latina, I also want to become fluent to connect with my ancestry on a deeper level. I want to have conversations with my familia in Mexico and travel throughout Latina America without having to worry about language limitations. 

When the company I work for announced that they were going to offer a language education program for free, I knew I had to take advantage. Although I got pretty far in high school, I decided to start at the beginner’s level to refresh my memory. I’m a year in and still in the early stages of my journey, but it feels good to be proactive. It’s a relief to realize that I’ve retained much of the vocabulary. My conversational skills still need fine-tuning, but this is a stepping stone to reaching that goal. 

I’m turning 40 this year and while I would’ve loved to have been fluent in Spanish a long time ago, I know it’s never too late for me to try again. Despite the shame I’ve experienced for not growing up speaking the language, I realize that it doesn’t make me less Latina or Mexican. What matters is that I’m staying connected to the mother tongue in ways that are possible to me and interweaving it into my daily life. I feel that as a Mexican American, my challenges with learning Spanish are a true representation of being de aquí y de alla. Through my journey, I’m trying to bridge the gap between the country I was born in and the country that gave me my cultural roots.