You might be thinking, wow, that’s a great combination!!!
Well, yes, it is. I am extremely proud (and lucky) to be Hispanic while having been born and raised in the United States — a red-blooded American, as they say. (Is that the idiomatic expression we use? I always struggle with American idiomatic expressions even though I’ve lived here my whole life.)
It’s pretty great, I’m not going to lie. My parents are from Argentina and Uruguay, so I get to watch fútbol with Messi and Suárez on my teams, eat delicious asado, drink mate, and gobble up mouthwatering facturas, alfajores, empanadas, milanesas…Alright, so the food is freaking amazing down there. And in the States, my family happens to know some pretty damn good restaurants, bakeries, and cafés, too.
We have a culture of solidarity and warmth. We’re always there for each other, thick and thin. We’re quite family-oriented, so sometimes, I sacrifice going to events with my friends to be with my family. Instead of going to resorts for the holidays, we go to Argentina and Uruguay to spend time with my cousins, aunts, uncles, and grandparents.
However, I also feel guilty.
Guilty because I feel I should’ve gone through Argentinean school (where, instead, I dropped out in the third grade since I hated it so much). Guilty because I feel I don’t even know much about Argentina’s / Uruguay’s history and I still have the audacity to call them my countries. Guilty because I don’t usually listen to Latin music, read books in Spanish, or even have many Spanish-speaking friends at my school. I’m pretty self-conscious of my Spanish, so the more I think about how much more I can learn, the more I shy away from it. The more I shy away from it, the guiltier I feel.
There are many words in Spanish (well, in Argentina and Uruguay, we call it Castellano) that I’ve known in the past but don’t remember anymore because I haven’t used them. It’s embarrassing when someone asks me what a certain word is in Spanish and I say, “Um, to be honest, I don’t remember,” or “I don’t really know.” Even though my first language was Spanish (and boy, was I a cute kid while singing “Twinkle Twinkle Little Star” with a thick accent), my current dominant language is English. And somehow, I’m ashamed of it.
I’m so proud of being Latina that I don’t want to speak my mediocre Spanish to people. I don’t want them to think that I struggle with speaking Spanish. I don’t want them to think that since I’ve never lived in any Latin American country, I’m not actually Latina. I have so many fears, and I recognize they are perverse. It’s a thought process that has been stubbornly ingrained in my mind for almost two decades.
A few months ago, I was asked to translate between a man who represented the workers of my school’s dining hall and the members of my student activist organization that call for a $15 minimum wage for campus workers (15 Now). I was terrified I wouldn’t be able to do it, but my sense of serving those in the Latino community superceded my fears.
It ended up being one of the proudest moments of my life. I was proud for conquering my shyness and feelings of inadequacy, but I was also proud for helping my people.
And then I realized something important. I don’t have to be perfect at Spanish to be Latina.
I just AM.
I’m Latina because both of my parents are Latinos. I’m Latina because I can understand and speak Spanish fluently. Yes, it’s a little challenging for me to speak/read/write at times, but overall, I am fluent. I should use whatever abilities I can to help other Hispanics in need — and that’s good enough. I can’t shy away from helping people who share my ethnicity just because I don’t think I speak sufficiently well. I will learn how to speak better by helping them.
And they also know the struggle of not knowing a language too well, so they will understand.
I ran into my friend about a week ago and he told me he was organizing an opportunity for people to go on Alternative Spring Break to Nicaragua to teach kids English with an organization called Outreach 360. Even though I wouldn’t be teaching Spanish, I will most likely need to use it to connect to the children. As soon as he told me, I completed the application immediately. I’m happy to say that I was accepted a few days ago and that I’m looking forward to the trip.
So even though I have a lot more to learn in terms of the Spanish language (and dialects) and Latin American culture, I fully accept and embrace it. There is always more to learn about one’s own heritage.