Nativity of My Spanish Tongue
I was born into a world that embodies the essence of Dominican heritage. Throughout my childhood, I always spoke Spanish as I came from a tight-knit Hispanic community. My journey isn’t just one of communication, but one of self-discovery and identity, sprouting from the deep roots of my heritage. Dominican Spanish has a lot of its own native slang, along with its brokenness of the formal Spanish language. It’s modernized into its own unique tongue, with distinctive features that stand out but are understandable, not diverting too far from its original mouth. With terms like que lo que1, or someone talking so fast that you can barely understand a thing they’re saying, you can tell in an instant who you’re speaking to.
My family and culture have always placed great significance on one’s fluency in the Spanish language. It goes far beyond being just a skill; it becomes ingrained in who we are. Exclusion, isolation, and insecurity, all emotions which are felt among Hispanics who don’t speak Spanish, especially within the Dominican community. The fear of being unable to express such an important aspect of their identities scares people away, often deterring their desire to embark on a journey of cultural fulfillment, as they worry about being judged. By tilling the very environment we are part of with support, acceptance, and understanding, we can inspire the nurturing of others’ identities, sprouting the robust stem of their life-long adventure that is to come.
Every summer since I was born, I’ve traveled to the Dominican Republic. Although just a vacation, it holds much more significance, continuing to be a catalyst that constantly reshapes my perception and appreciation of my culture’s importance. I get to witness where the seeds of my family tree sprouted from, being able to experience the beauty of the nature that my predecessors cultivated. It’s during these visits that I’ve come to realize that Spanish isn’t merely just a language, but an endless universe of abundance and different worlds to discover. Each sight and interaction reminds me of its uniqueness and how different it is from home, yet, making me feel as if I’ve lived there my whole life. However, I’m saddened by the lack of appreciation others show towards the Dominican Republic. Many of those close to me show expressions of their love and loyalty for the culture, but never pay a visit unless an event of importance, leaving my second home feeling emptier year by year. This contrast between talk and action only highlights the importance of a stronger stem needed to keep the plant of culture flourishing. Despite this, I always leave with a stronger sense of pride for the Dominican culture, being eager to return to my homeland yet again a year later.
My earliest memories consist of those with sayings like “Sana, Sana, Colita de Rana2” to comfort you as a kid when you got hurt, and frequent laughter, surrounded by the warmnth of Dominican heritage. As I grew up, I began to recognize my different uses of Spanish. Conversations with my mother contained phrases like “Vamos ir al park3” or “Yo voy jugar video games4,” blending and merging these languages into one known as Spanglish. When speaking 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 fueled my desire to improve my Spanish speaking. As a result, I always made sure to seek assistance from my parents. Whether it was asking them for definitions or word pronunciations, their guidance played a significant part in the development of my journey. A significant step in my journey was when I took a Spanish course in high school. Due to my Hispanic background, I was very skeptical that it would benefit me as I already knew a great deal of what it had to offer. I had thoughts like “Why should I waste my time in this class when I could practice with family?” or “I already know Spanish, so this class won’t teach me anything new.” However, it quickly shut down the negative thoughts I had. As the typical language class goes, it taught me the formalities of Spanish structures and formats, but the most significant aspect I gained was my writing skills. Although I’m not perfect, I’m able to write a lot more confidently and understand the spelling of words much more easily than before, allowing me to express myself even more and contribute substantially to the preservation of my culture.
How I speak depends on who I am with. On my mother’s side, I usually speak Spanish unlike my father’s side, in which most of those who live here speak English well. With my friends and cousins, it’s rare that they ever see that side of me. We’ve always been used to speaking English with each other, regarding Spanish during special occasions like singing our hearts out to music, dancing the nights away to bachata or merengue, or talking to our elders. Although our Spanish is slowly getting taken away by the English language, these moments stay close to our hearts as we balance our bilingual life, juggling between the convenience of English and our deep roots 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, I would learn much more English, but along with that, forget some Spanish. Despite these pressures, I latch onto my identity, my language. Our language serves as 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 Spanish is slowly getting taken away by the English language as the days go by. Due to so many influences of the English language, and so much neglect of Spanish, newer generations are failing to grasp such a vital part of their origins. English has sneakily been integrated into almost every aspect of our lives like in our schools, workplaces, and even our everyday interactions with those around us, while Spanish is spoken only between families and very few communities. What’s most concerning is the older generation’s failure to emphasize the importance of this. In many instances, they are naive to the diminishing presence of Spanish, naturally assuming that tradition will be passed down, in turn failing to continue their cultures onto newer generations. This is left to us, putting together the pieces to a thousand-piece puzzle lacking any image of origin, making sure it’s a cohesive whole. We are tasked with doubling down on its importance and continuing to bridge the gaps formed between our generations. We aren’t only on a journey of preserving the past, but building a stronger foundation for the future, breathing life into the new generations to come. As we continue to piece together the puzzle of our origin, with unwavering determination we must ensure that our culture not only clings onto what is left of it, but thrives through the many forces it’s put against.
- Que lo que – a very popular Dominican slang word used around friends. Means “Whats going on?” or “Whats up?”
↩︎ - Sana, Sana, Colita de Rana – an expression that’s commonly used in many Latino communities to console someone, most often a child, who has been hurt. Means “heal, heal, little frog’s tail”.
↩︎ - Vamos ir al park – Let’s go to the park ↩︎
- Yo voy jugar video games – I’m going to play video games ↩︎