I grew up in Mexico City and attended English-speaking schools my entire life. This seemed to be a key aspect of my education, something that would give me an advantage as a future professional. I do believe speaking English has given me innumerable opportunities, but it has also interfered with my identity and my country’s overall culture.

Mexican society has grown increasingly complex ever since the Colonial Era, with strata and norms that defining social hierarchy. In recent years, along with increased globalization and worldwide communication, the English language and American culture have infiltrated our country’s ideology. Not only this, but they have entered our country as a superior entity to the Spanish language and Mexican culture.

This superiority has expanded Mexico’s complex social strata by adding a new ladder between its levels: the ability to speak English and adapt to Americanized cultural norms. In Mexico, as in a myriad of other developing countries, English is regarded as the language of possibility and prosperity. Countless English schools advertise their services on national radio programs, broadcasting the stupidity of the non-English speaker. “I can talk Washington too,” says an actor with a heavy accent in an Open English commercial, pointing at an Exit sign and winking while reading “éxito,” which means success in Spanish.

English is no longer seen as a tool for advancement as my parents saw it when they learned English as children. It has become a requirement to belong in a changing society, where behaviors and customs that used to be perfectly acceptable are suddenly regarded as pitiful, stupid and inadequate.

English has opened an escape route for some who are trapped in the bottom of the country’s social pyramid, making those at the bottom even more marginalized by comparison. These lower classes mainly consist of indigenous groups native to Mexico.

Already marginalized, these groups are put in a position where they have to prioritize not only one but two foreign cultures and languages above their own. This results in a total abandonment of their ancient customs and beautiful cultures in order to gain knowledge of the supposedly more important and advanced English language.

My great grandmother spent her childhood in San Juan Chamula, a lovely indigenous village in Chiapas. There, one could find any amount of extravagant ingredients, foods and indigenous crafts sold by the townspeople who spoke in their native dialects while making signals, sometimes mumbling a word in Spanish or two. My great grandmother was perfectly fluent in Tzotzil, the native dialect because there was no other way to communicate with her peers.

She, the foreigner, had to adapt to them. Not the other way around.

After visiting Chamula a few years ago, I was stunned by how different it was from her stories. Some vendors sell cheap factory-made knockoffs of the native crafts their ancestors used to sell, as they call “Lady! Lady! Cheap! Fifteen pesos,” assuming if a person has the privilege to be a tourist, they must be American or at least speak English. Tzotzil is only spoken by older people, sometimes used to address children who refuse to answer in the same tongue. In the same state, the larger town of San Cristóbal de las Casas pictured above has replaced markets and embroidery shops with Starbucks Coffee, Americanized restaurants and more cheap crafts. I was heartbroken when I realized Mexico was losing the tradition and beauty that make it the beautiful country it is.

Some say introducing English to marginalized communities such as San Juan Chamula allows Mexican tourism, the second largest contributor to our GDP, to flourish and reach international travelers. Some even insist that having access to this language allows them to escape the poverty trap and earn a more advanced education. These benefits may be true, but they come at a serious cost. Indigenous cultures are taking their final steps towards extinction since not even their members are concerned with preserving their customs. Those who continue living traditionally in accordance with their beliefs and culture are pushed further down in Mexico’s social strata; their incapacity to speak English and conform to a more globalized culture make them even more worthless in the eyes of Mexico’s higher classes. All this to belong in the trendy Global Community.

Is it really worth it?

Through our integration and acceptance of norms imposed on us by American culture and the English language, we are losing our individuality. It is easier to buy clothes from international chains, so why buy the handcrafted blouse sold in San Juan Chamula? Almost nobody speaks Tzotzil anymore, so why bother? English is much more practical. Why be an individual entity when being a part of a huge international herd of countries with the same characteristics, values, and language is so much easier?

Because we are different, and we cannot allow that individuality be stripped from our nation because of convenience. Without a doubt, globalization has advanced development throughout the world, but we cannot allow it to render individuality and tradition useless.