Essay #1 Draft

Nativity of My Spanish Tongue

I am Hispanic, a Dominican at that. Growing up I’ve always spoken Spanish, being from a tight-knit Hispanic community, mainly speaking it with my family. My journey isn’t one with only communication, but also a journey of self-discovery, identity, and connection. My culture makes speaking Spanish a very important aspect of its identity. With a lot of its own native slang and the brokenness of the Spanish language, it’s modernized into its own unique tongue, with properties that stand out but are understandable, not diverting too much from its original path. With terms like que lo que (whats up), or someone talking so fast that you can barely understand what they’re saying, you can tell in an instant who you’re speaking to. 

My family and culture have always put great significance in knowing Spanish, and you’re in a way left out if you’re Hispanic and don’t know it, not being able to express one of the most important aspects of your identity. Every summer since I was born, I’ve always traveled to the Dominican Republic. Although just a vacation, it is much more important to me, always reshaping my appreciation of my culture. I get to witness where the origins of my culture sprouted from, and where I realize that Spanish isn’t merely just a language, but a universe of abundance and different worlds to discover. However, I am saddened by the lack of appreciation others show towards it. Many speak of their love and loyalty of the country, but never pay a visit unless an event of importance, leaving my home away from home emptier year by year. This only emphasizes the need for a stronger support system needed to keep our cultures alive. Despite this, I always leave with a stronger sense of pride for my culture, awaiting the next time I’ll get to go. 

My earliest memories consist of those with warm sayings and frequent laughter, surrounded by the essence of the Dominican heritage. As I grew up, I began to recognize my different uses of Spanish. When I would speak to Spanish-speaking people, I would occasionally struggle to find the correct words, instinctively switching to English to fill in the missing gaps. Although frustrated, it ignited a fire within me to improve my Spanish speaking. I always made sure to ask my parents for help, which words meant what, and how to pronounce certain words because I’ve always loved expressing this part of my identity. A significant step in my journey of learning Spanish was when I took a Spanish course in high school. Due to my Hispanic background, I was very skeptical of it being of any benefit to me as I already knew a great deal of what it had to offer. However, it quickly shut down the negative thoughts I had. Although it taught me more formal Spanish structures and formats, the most important aspect I gained was my writing skills. Although not perfect, I’m able to write a lot more confidently and understand the spelling of words much easier than before, being able to express myself even more and contribute to the preservation of my culture.

Depending on who I was with would determine how I spoke. On my mother’s side, I usually speak Spanish unlike my father’s side, in which most people who live here speak English well. With friends and cousins, it’s rare that they ever see that side of me. We were always used to speaking English with each other, regarding Spanish only at special times like singing our hearts out to music or talking to our elders. Although our Spanish is slowly getting taken away by the English language, these moments stay close to our hearts, and we balance our bilingual life, juggling between the convenience of English and our deep-rooted identity in Spanish. As I grew up, I slowly felt the pressure to conform to the society outside of my community, the dominating English language. Day by day, month by month, year by year, I would learn much more English, and along with that, forget some Spanish. Despite these pressures, I made sure to latch onto my identity, my language. This was a symbol of all the hard work that was done to come here, all the blood, sweat, and tears of my ancestors, and I wasn’t going to let assimilation get the best of their struggles and sacrifices. 

What I’ve come to realize is that the Spanish language is being taken away by the English language more and more everyday. English has been able to sneak into many aspects of our lives, while Spanish is only spoken between families and few communities. Whats concerning is the older generations fault in addressing this, assuming that it will be passed down, and failing to continue their cultures onto newer generations. This is left to us to double down on its importance and continue to bridge the gaps formed between generations. We aren’t only preserving the past, but building a stronger foundation for the future, a treasure that helps us connect to our pasts and guide our futures. I hope my journey can inspire others to start, continue, and persevere through the hardships, and learn that through these moments of struggle is where we find our true selves.