My father is the son of first-generation immigrants from Mexico, the first of his immediate family to be born in the United States. He is fluent in both Spanish and English. When he and my mother got married, they spoke only English in our home because that’s all my mother could speak. Therefore, I learned little Spanish growing up. To this day, the most annoying question I get from people is “So if you’re Mexican, how do you not speak Spanish?”
There are a couple of reasons this question is annoying. One, language is not genetic, so I don’t understand why there is any doubt as to why I don’t speak Spanish. Two, a lot of the times this question is asked by my Spanish-speaking relatives, who look me up and down and shake their heads. They say, “Why you don't speak Spanish, Hulia?” and then they proceed to berate my father about why he should have taught us his language. I can’t tell you exactly what they say to him, because, again, I struggle to keep up with their Spanish even when they speak really slowly for me, the gringa. In those moments I feel a stab of regret for not speaking Spanish better.
Here is a list of struggles I’ve encountered as the Mexican who can’t speak Spanish:
1. My relatives give me and my parents a hard time
It’s not just the speeches they give about why it would be good for me to speak Spanish. My family is loud. So, whenever I try to practice my Spanish with them, I receive lots of hearty applause and laughter. This happens when I say gracias. When I say a full sentence they might as well give me a gold medal. Basically it makes the whole process of trying to use my Spanish a much bigger ordeal than it should be, so most of the time I opt to sit and simply practice understanding.
2. I get unreasonably jealous of non-Hispanics who speak Spanish fluently
Sure they worked really hard and they practiced all the time, but it still hurts knowing that they’ve got it down. It feels like they have more proof of Hispanic heritage than I do, even though I’m the one who has family that still lives in Mexico. And I have no right to be jealous—they’ve worked at it. But still, their knowing the language makes me all too aware of my own lack of fluency.
3. I feel distant from a significant part of my cultural heritage
Language is very connected to culture, and so not knowing Spanish makes me feel like the awkward third wheel to many experiences. When my parents took us to Mexico for the first time, I played truth or dare with some neighborhood children, but not without my father close by in case I didn’t understand. So basically he was translating everything. It’s hard to really get to know and connect with someone’s culture when you don’t speak the language of that culture. And I’ve felt this very strongly in my visits to Mexico, in my interactions with my Hispanic family, and when meeting other Mexican people for the first time. Even though I have spent a lot of my life involved with the culture, not knowing the language steals some of the intimacy it could have.
4. I could very easily become Spanish proficient, but...
There are so many things going on in my life. Learning a language is hard work. It’s not that I haven’t put time into learning Spanish, but in order to become fluent, the effort is daily practice and to be honest, I’m just not that diligent. Having my father makes it more easy for me to practice, but it’s so much easier for us to communicate in English! I know enough Spanish to just be really annoying, asking my father for help with every other word. Spanish proficiency is a “someday” thing for me right now. But it’s definitely on my bucket list.
5. I get irated when I hear English speakers complaining about English Language Learners
If I haven’t said this enough, learning a language is hard work. When somebody is making an effort to speak your language, they are trying to connect with you and your culture. Please stop wasting time complaining about the people you can’t understand because of their “thick accents” or “bad grammar.”
6. And of course, the ever-present regret that I haven’t spent enough time learning Spanish.
Maybe someday I'll finally become fluent and will fulfill my dreams of going to a Gomez family reunion and speaking perfect Spanish. I would love to be able to use the language that so many generations of my father's family have used. It's just going to be a lot of hard work. Luckily, I have my family to help me out.
