Can you ever reclaim your roots?
I’m not sure, but this is the question I come back to time and time again. For me, the answer seems to lie in learning Spanish but I need to reconsider how and why I want to reclaim the language of my ancestors and the LatinX community.
This journey won’t be wrapped up in one glittery trip to Mexico or some other quick fix. No, this journey is a life-long one. It will happen paso a paso, day by day. Which is why last week I found myself nervously staring at my computer screen waiting for my online tutoring session to begin. It’s a little hard to believe but at 39 years old I am taking Spanish lessons. Again.
I’m not sure how I feel about this sometimes. Frustration, embarrassment, pride, and exhaustion. Getting my brain to work in another language feels shockingly HARD but maybe that should be expected.
As a third-generation Mexican-American, culture, identity, and language have been intimately entangled in ways that aren’t expected of other Americans’. Think about it. There are millions of families with European heritage, but how often are they expected to know French, German or Polish once a generation or two has been born in the U.S.?
The difference is I look Mexican (which I love!). So naturally, when people see me they expect me to speak Spanish. Folks that are white, don’t have the same problem;)
Navigating this expectation as a kid, teen and adult has been difficult. Especially since my mother didn’t want us to learn Spanish. There’s a lot to unpack in that sentence, but suffice to say it was the 60s and 70s so she was more concerned with assimilation than “embracing” her cultural heritage.
This is how I inherited an unconventional relationship with the language of my ancestors. While most of my Latino friends had parents who went to Mass on Sundays and listened to banda music at family parties, my mom and dad cruised to oldies, blasted classic rock and prayed for forgiveness in Penacostal pews. I’m thankful for their good taste in music — but why couldn’t they have given me a little banda or rancheras too?
Thankfully, as I got older my friends introduced me to popular Spanish music like Mana, Gloria Estefan, Julia Venegas, La Santa Cecilia and more. And you know what? It turns out I LOVE Spanish music. Even if I have to look up the lyrics or replay them a half dozen times until I really understand the song — I love it. There’s something about music in Spanish that’s different. I’m not sure if it’s the get-up and dance beats or intensely beautiful lyrics, but something pulls at my heartstrings in ways other music just can’t.
Which brings me back to my computer screen for those online Spanish lessons. I’m determined to learn Spanish so that I can listen to music, talk to people, travel the world, teach my daughters and do as much as possible in a second language.
That means I have to step away from the old self. The one who said I could never learn Spanish or that I didn’t want to. This time around I am digging deep to find out what’s really behind those feelings. I’m also embracing my Spanish lessons in new ways and to work past my embarrassment and just go for it.
I have no idea if this will lead to a more bilingual version of myself that can move between Latinidad and Americaness with more fluidity. I just know this longing to learn more about the language of my people and embrace my roots in new ways is calling. It’s time to answer.
