My parents have a habit of addressing my son in English, and whenever they do it, I get annoyed. Díselo en Español (tell him in Spanish), I say. I know they’re used to speaking a lot of English with their other (older) grandkids, but when I said I wanted Max to be addressed primarily in Spanish, I meant it.
My “group,” first-generation (blank)-Americans, children born in this country to Hispanic/Latin American exiles or immigrants, suffers from a malady that seriously troubles me: we mainly grew up in households where Spanish prevailed, yet we have turned around and not made much of an effort to teach our own kids the language of our parents and culture. And this is unacceptable to me, for a variety of reasons.
First of all, there’s the historical component. I think it is vital to know your roots, where you came from, from both a familial and larger cultural perspective. And knowing the language of your ancestors is key. It’s not the same to try to understand, or more importantly, feel like you belong to, a culture or country when you can’t even communicate in its mother tongue.
Second, I’m convinced that the more languages you know, the better your chances of thriving in a global economy. There’s no way around it: technology is in fact making this world smaller, and those who are best able to understand more than English (and the American culture) are the ones who will benefit the most. It’s disheartening that in the United States, the norm is not to know more than one language. And I’ll save for another day my rant against the “This is America, we only do English here” mentality that seems to pervade. My point is, from an economic and professional standpoint, the more languages you know (even just proficiently), the more you will be able to contribute to, and benefit from, the world around you.
And hey, what about knowing more than one language just for the sake of it? To, you know, be a well-rounded person and all? I’m having a hard time thinking of a good reason why it would be negative to add to your skills and knowledge and overall marketability and interesting appeal as a human being by doing something like picking up a second language.
So when it comes to my fellow hybrids, I’m both puzzled and disappointed when their kids don’t speak Spanish (and can’t communicate with their own grandparents!), or worse, speak it terribly. Because for me, worse than having a generation of kids who don’t speak Spanish, is one that speaks a butchered, embarrassing, just plain incorrect version of it.
Don’t get me wrong: I’m not that die-hard of a linguist. I myself grew up speaking Spanglish – I still do – and believe me, it’s not that pretty to hear. But I reserve it for when I’m among my family and friends; not at work, not in professional events, and not when I was in school giving presentations or addressing my teachers. And I can’t tell you what it does to me to hear common words mispronounced or to have masculine/feminine articles and adjectives jumbled with the word they’re describing (in Spanish, words are either masculine or feminine, and their accompanying articles and/or adjectives reflect the gender). It grates on my ears like fingers scratching a chalkboard.
So what can I do in my own life to counter this problem? I can make sure that my son knows Spanish, and knows it well. I don’t ever speak to him in English, unless a particular word in Spanish is too complicated for his year-and-a-half self and the English one is simpler (“night-night” as opposed to “vamos a dormir” ); I’ve asked my family to make an effort to talk to him in Spanish, which can be hit or miss since we’re all used to slipping into English at some point in the conversation; and I’m lucky, because he’s in a home daycare with an older Cuban lady whose English is not as strong as her Spanish, so she address all the kids in Spanish. At the same time, he gets his English from his father and that side of the family, although even my husband talks to him in Spanish every now and then, especially with key terms like lechita (milk), papa (food), and vamos (let’s go).
In a few short years, my son will start school, and his life will shift to English. It happened to me, my sisters, cousins, and friends; my nieces, nephew and relatives’ kids; it’s a part of being bilingual and bicultural. My goal is to give him a foundation in Spanish that’s solid enough to make him completely (correctly!) fluent, and that will weather the phase where he will reject it because all his friends speak English.
From there, I can only hope that he’ll one day feel his bilingualism is a gift, and that he’ll be all the better off for being able to communicate en Español.
[tags]kids, parents, parenting, bilingual, bicultural, language, spanish, english, teaching, home[/tags]
Photo graciously provided by Antonio MartÃnez, under a Creative Commons license, some rights reserved
Tere, baby! It’s good to see you here!
I thought this was spot on. If I had a bilingual family, you can bet that I’d be immersing my kids in both English and the other language.
Sadly, I don’t.
But what a great opportunity for your son!
My kids are not biologically “mine,” they’re my wife’s, from her previous marriage. He is a Mexican-American, so I really try to pay attention to that, making sure that they get as much exposure to their heritage as possible. The “ex” is a devoted father, and at least once a year, takes them to Mexico, to their ancestral lemon ranch.
I am not fluent in Spanish, not by a long shot. I studied it a long time ago, but I’m very rusty. However, I do try to have simple conversations with the kids in the tongue of their grandmother. Your essay makes me want to try harder, to learn more, to become more conversant in Spanish.
Hola Tere & congratulations on your new gig at GMParents.
I stumbled across your other blogs about 2 or 3 months ago when I was looking for local info, and have followed them ever since. I enjoy your writing very much, particularly because my son is the same age as yours. My wife is Cuban-American but she was born and raised in Brazil, and only came here a few years ago. My people are from Texas (Mexican heritage) but I am fluent in Spanish from living many years in Spain. My wife and I speak to our son Diego almost exclusively in Spanish, as do her parents. Even so, I have no doubt that English will be his primary language because that is the language of school and most of the media he will be exposed to as he grows up.
In fact, the real struggle will be to make sure his Spanish is fluent. We will do all we can to take him to Puerto Rico, the DR, Mexico and other parts of Latin America and Spain in the coming years, in the hope of exposing him to as much Spanish as possible, regardless of accent. It will be interesting to see if we succeed in producing a truly bilingual adult!
Un fan tuyo te desea mucha suerte con tu carrera literaria. Escribes muy bien.
By the way, one minor quibble: it’s “DÃselo en español” with an “s” instead of a “c” and español is not capitalized.
Saludos
SM, it was actually YOU who inspired me to contact GNMParents about contributing, so I owe you a debt of gratitude!
Stu, I think that the fact that you’re supportive of your kids’ efforts to learn the language and maintain some ties to their culture is wonderful. What you can’t give them in technique, you give them in encouragement and I think it’s a positive influence that they’ll look back on when they’re older.
Joe, thanks for being a regular reader! I hope you’re enjoying your son at this age as much as I’m enjoying Max – this is such a fun, exciting age! I too wonder about how well I’ll be able to teach Max to be fluent – it’s definitely a challenge. It was easy for my parents because they were born and raised only in Spanish and learned English as adults. But I was raised with both languages pretty equally, and even so, my Spanish is not top notch (speaking of which, guilty as charged on “español” – that’s what happens when you think in English! But I thought it was “dÃcelo” because of the “c” in “decir”?). Anyway, one of the things I plan to do is put him in a bilingual ed program where he’ll receive instruction in both Spanish and English. Hopefully, that will go a long way in helping him get a real handle on the language. I’m a big supporter of bilingual ed programs and intensive language magnets, so I’d like to get him into one when he’s ready for school.
¡Gracias a todos!
Hola Tere,
Thanks for your response.
It’s a common mistake because you are being logical. Things become “selo” so you don’t have to say “lelo,” where “le” = “to him,” and “lo” = “it.” Think dÃselo, dáselo, regalaselo, devuelvaselo etc.
I think I’m beginning to sound like an ass with the grammar lesson, so I’ll cut it out!
My wife’s sister’s kids (ages 7 & 9) are in bilingual programs at school on Key Biscayne (1/2 day in each language) and between that and their Cuban grandparents their Spanish is getting pretty good when they choose to try. So there’s hope!
Right now they choose to speak mainly English, but if they’re like me in their late teen years they’ll start thinking that being able to speak Spanish is cool, and it’ll be much easier to pick it up again if they get a base in their early years.
It’s a very interesting conundrum for a new generation of Americans, especially here in South Florida and places such as California, Arizona, Texas, where the first generation of immigrants (or, in our case, exiles) could live an entire life in the U.S. without learning English. Your dedication to your heritage (and Max’s future) is admirable.
Joe, I’m fully expecting Max to prefer English for the better part of his childhood. My hope and goal is to just give him a good foundation, so that, like you said, when he comes around, the knowledge is there.
BP, thanks! I appreciate that…
Tere,
I totally agree with your idea of teaching your son Spanish first because he will be exposed to English once he starts in school.
I was raised in NYC speaking only Spanish at home and I learned English when I started school. I am so grateful to my parents for this because I am was able to communicate with my grandparents easily.
I have a cousin who does not speak a word of Spanish and his parents are both hispanic. It bothers my grandmother that she can’t communicate with her grandson because they don’t speak the same language.
I intend to speak to my son only in Spanish until he starts school and even then I will still speak to him in Spanish at home because that will encourage him to continue eventhough he is speaking English in school.
Bien, dicho (or something like that). Te prometo a hablarle solamente en español a su hijo lindo, Max. ¿Estás segura que es que quieres?
People! Listen, people!!!
Good for you, Tere!! I completely agree with you and applaud your efforts to teach your children both of their natural languages.
My mother is French and married my American father when he was stationed overseas. My first language was also French, but when we moved to the US when I was 3, my mother stopped speaking French to me and my younger sister in order to improve her English.
Unfortunately for us, when she “attempted” to start speaking it to us again, (she says…) we would have nothing of it (though I do remember sitting at her bedside practicing the alphabet in French).
My sisters and I actually begged her to speak only French to us when we were about 10 years old (and living in Europe again), but I think she was embarrassed of the whole situation. She would attempt a phrase and get upset that we didn’t know it, and it would end there.
The whole situation was history repeating itself, as my mother is actually half Vietnamese and whose first language was Vietnamese, which her mother stopped speaking at home when they moved from Vietnam to France.
I used to live in a very international community in University housing, and would highly recommend to the parents who were trying to learn English to continue speaking their native tongue in the home setting, using my story of non-bilingual regret to encourage them.
Speaking other languages allows for something that I think you and Joe touched on in the comments as well: thinking *differently*. Especially when learning the mechanics of a language, we are able to learn another way of thinking, or at least get a glimpse into another way of thinking. Would you agree?
Congratulations on the new gig!
This is a great article! I’m behind you 100% on this topic. My fiance’s 8-year-old son refuses to speak Spanish so his grandmother can’t even have a conversation with him beyond a few words. I had a coworker at my previous job whose father is Puerto Rican and mother is American, and while her mother had no issue with Spanish, her FATHER refused to let her or her four siblings speak Spanish in the house. That made no sense to me whatsoever. I agree that being bilingual is a benefit, both personally and professionally. It never hurts to have an additional skill. I know that when I have a child, the primary language they will learn is Spanish. They can learn English in school. That’s how I did it, that’s how my fiance did it, and I think it’s important to establish a foundation of the child’s “native” language.
Tere,
I am also using the same principles with my son. At home, I speak to him in Spanish ( my husband speaks to him in English). My mom takes care of him during the day and she also speaks to him in Spanish. I’m hoping the Spanish will stick even after he learns English in school.
Both of my parents are from the Philippines and they speak Tagalog to their friends, but when my sisters and I were growing up, they only spoke English with us. So I can understand Tagalog, but I can’t speak it very well.
Right now I’m learning Spanish and Mandarin Chinese because they’re part of my heritage. (I also majored in languages in college). And yes, they both involve another way of thinking!
My 2 kids will be exposed to other languages too!
I agree with those of you who have mentioned it that the Spanish (or other language) at home and English everywhere else model is a good one. I admit that as he gets older, I see myself slipping into Spanglish more than anything else, but I’ll be aiming for Spanish!
Barb, to answer your question, I do agree. But some of you mentioned something that I perceive as a cultural issue – for some of you, your parents did not speak the native tongue and would use only English (or the main language of the country you lived in). I’ve heard of this before, and from my understanding, I think it’s because the parents don’t want their kids to be at a “deficit” if they don’t have a good grasp on English. For many immigrants, discrimination was a very real part of life, and they didn’t want that for their kids. So it seems like to have their kids assimilate completely, use of the native language is almost totally discouraged.
In this regard, we Cubans are generally different (at least the ones in Miami). I think it mainly has to do with the notion of exile vs. immigrant. Cubans who settled in Miami in the 60′s and 70′s (generally speaking, this is obviously not true of all of them) really believed it was a temporary situation, and a lot of effort was put into keeping the language and culture alive – because we would all be heading back to Cuba at any moment. I get into it in greater detail about the Cuban/exile aspect here: http://tere-tere.blogspot.com/2007/03/to-be-cuban-american-mami.html
But my point is that I think it’s fairly common within immigrant communities for parents to want their kids to be “fully American,” and so there is a loss of language and culture. But I’d like to think that with the huge, growing number (and bottom line: buying power) of minorities, that this would change and there’d be room for kids to grow up being comfortable in two cultures.
Tere,
You know, I always think of this issue when I watch TV shows where the adult actors speak two languages fluently.
I always think to myself, “Their parents spoke their native language at home – good for them!”
Maybe that would be an incentive to the children of today?!
Wow, this is turning into a really good discussion – thanks to everyone for all the insights.
I was born at Homestead AFB, south of Miami. When I was 6 months old my father got stationed in Spain and we lived in Madrid until I was about 6.
AS a result, my first language was Spanish. When I was 6, however, we moved back to the States and I can remember not wanting to be different from everyone else. We learned English quickly and, as it turned out, forgot a lot of Spanish. By the time I was in high school I could hardly speak it at all.
In college I had a Spanish girlfriend and when we would go out with her friends I hated that I couldn’t Speak like they did.
So after I graduated I went to Spain, thinking I would spend a year or so there. I spent about 8 years, ultimately. My Spanish got very good! I think it was one of the best things I ever did.
One of the things that I love most about Miami is the fact that, in many places, Spanish is the default language. This place really is Tom Tancredo’s nightmare. I love that.
Don’ t get me wrong – my son Diego needs to and, I’m sure, will speak English as a native of the US. I’m a stickler for grammar and precision in speech. I love English and was a lit major in college. But I also love Spanish and want my son to be comfortable in the language of Cervantes, Llorca, GarcÃa Márquez, Borges, Octavio Paz and so many others…
I recently needed to find a Hispanic spokesperson for a company doing a media tour in California & Chicago. The employee the company had available was a Mexican American guy from Los Angeles. He was a great spokesman in terms of personality and willingness. Unfortunately, we couldn’t do any radio or TV because his fluency just wasn’t there. I know he felt badly about this – and very self-conscious.
I don’t think assimilation has to mean that you must forget how to speak the language of your ancestors. In California, Mexicans have a word for Hispanics who don’t speak Spanish: “pochos.” It’s not a very nice term. There is an excellent writer from California, Richard Rodriguez who wrote a book called “Hunger of Memory: The Education of Richard Rodriguez” that explores these issues in great personal detail.
Joe said, “I don’t think assimilation has to mean that you must forget how to speak the language of your ancestors.”
I completely agree with this statement, Joe. I wanted to add a bit more of my thoughts on this matter.
A couple of years after we moved to the US, another military family my parents had known overseas moved onto the same base we were at. They had a son my age and they continued speaking both languages to him. He speaks fluent French as an adult.
There were quite a few differences that may have had an affect on his parents’ insistence that he speak the languages of both his parents.
I believe the factor that made the biggest difference from my own family was that the English speaking father, though not *smooth* (and sounded very much like an American), was almost fluent in his wife’s language and also spoke it at home.
Not that I think it’s necessary for both parents – if there are two – to speak the language in question. But I believe it would be advantageous.
I’m also wondering how we can *get over* being embarrassed about not sounding like a native when we’re speaking another language. My father understands French extremely well, but I’ve only heard him utter a few words in French and can sense his embarrassment when he does.
And because my French is what I call “high school French”, I’ve been *too embarrassed* to speak to my relatives in their language. I believe this embarrassment at not sounding like a native speaker is what prevents so many people from speaking the language at all.
I’ve already started teaching my kids French and will hopefully raise three fluent French speakers to adulthood.
On a side note, I actually have to counteract all the Spanish (giving the French word for the Spanish word) that my children are learning from TV shows and their father, who is learning to speak some Spanish in order to communicate with his Spanish-speaking employees.
I echo your sentiments on embarrassment, Barb. My mother understands English perfectly – reads it, watches TV in it, etc. – but has always been embarrassed of her accent, and so she avoided speaking. Of course, with no practice, your accent just stays the same; it doesn’t improve. And that’s true with her.
Joe, a lot of companies have the problem you mentioned (regarding the spokesperson). Your anecdote reminded me that I’ve often wondered what kind of success I’d have outside Miami as a Spanish-language press spokesperson for a company. I’ve been doing it for 7 years now and often feel like I’d be a “hot commodity” in some other major cities!
Well, I’m gonna pipe up on this. I am guilty of everything Tere finds unacceptable. I grew up in the same community, speaking Spanish. Left Miami, spoke way less Spanish, and now almost never speak Spanish to my boys. My toddler knows like 3 words. This post made me feel very ashamed of myself. Hopefully its not too late to undo my wrongdoings.
But if I may explain my wrongdoings for a moment. It has not been a lack of trying. Or a lack of knowing its benefits. My husband speaks four languages and this has been of massive benefit to him, personally, academically, and professionally. What it comes down to, for me, is that I don’t feel like myself when I speak in Spanish. I feel distanced from my own intimacy, more formal. And so its very hard for me to feel intimate when talking in Spanish to my kids. It feels fake and forced and it is SO important for me to feel connected to my sons at an emotional level. When I switch over to Spanish with them, I feel like a robot and if I only used Spanish with them, I’d feel less like their mom, personal, connected, real and more like someone or something else. Perhaps if I just gave into that feeling and kept on going in Spanish it would feel natural again, and this feeling of distance with my kids would go away.
For example, I say, “Vamos afuera a jugar??” and I feel like I’m floating out of my body and am looking at some other person taking care of my kid. I say, “Let’s go outside to play???” and I feel like me, their mom, ready to play with them.
This is painful for me. I know what I am taking away from them and it makes me incredibly remorseful. Then I speak in Spanish to them and I feel like I’m just not myself, not their mom. Its hard to explain. But that scares the everyliving spirit out of me and I stop.
I’m going to just give it another try. Perhaps if I don’t give in to the fear of feeling robotic and distanced to my children by speaking this language that was once my own, but over the years has escaped my identity, then perhaps not only my sons, but I myself can (re)gain something so deeply ours.
Aw, Jenny, I don’t want you to feel bad!!
It’s good that you at least know WHY you don’t speak Spanish to your kids and that you even feel there’s a benefit for them to know another language (so many people don’t consider it beneficial!).
I think you touch on an important point: the emotional connection to a language. As I’ve written on my site before, Spanish comes out without my even thinking about it. It’s a sub-conscious thing. Because in many ways we repeat the things said/done to us (which is both good and bad), I repeat the words and phrases and games I learned as a kid. The lady who cared for me while my parents worked only spoke Spanish and my parents only spoke Spanish at home – and so all my memories and notions of language are in Spanish.
If it’s not the same for you, don’t beat yourself up about it. Maybe dad can be the Spanish speaker in the house? Moving back to Miami will make a difference – they will be surrounded by it and will pick it up if you let them.
I read a book a little while back written by Derrida, called “Monolingualism of the Other” which affected me deeply at the time, and which I remembered again after your post (plus the general guilt of not speaking Spanish to my boys).
In it, Derrida speaks of his experience as an Algerian Jew who spoke only French, the language of the colonizers. He opens with the statement, “I speak one language – yet that language is not mine.” He writes of the intimate link between language and the Self, and his own identity crisis for not being able to speak the language of his people and instead that all of his thoughts, expressions, knowledge, and so on are build by a language that is not only not his, but is linked to the powers that do not accept him.
Wow. Except, in Derrida’s case, his crisis is innocent. He never knew his mother tongue. I, on the other hand, do. And yet, as an American, I have taken this other language, English, as my own – this language with which I have built my adult identity. It is, arguably, a form of disempowered identity crisis that I chose.
Why? Well, let’s skip the social politics of being Hispanic in the US, outside of Miami for the moment. We all know it.
But now I am the mother of two boys who are also of Cuban ancestry. And why should I force them into this crisis of mine by creating a Derrida-esque situation for them?
Its no coincidence that since becoming a mother, I have yearned for the first time in 12 years to return to Miami. Its no coincidence that I am suddenly openly admitting for the first time (not just here, but to myself more generally) the bi-lingual/bi-cultural identity crisis that I have felt since leaving Miami, perhaps even before then.
It is shameful and ridiculous that the Spanish language does not feel mine. I SHOULD feel bad when I read your post. Its the kind of bad that should slap me into reality. How can I feel robotic and distanced when Spanish was my first language? When both my parents are/were Cuban exiles? When I grew up in Miami, for Pepito’s sake? But I do. And its something I need to deal with, because its ridiculous.
So don’t apologize for making me feel bad. My husband should not be the only one speaking Spanish to my kids, although he often is. This is more like a wake up call and something I need to deal with. So thanks, and seriously, voy a hablar en espanol con mis hijos de ahora adelante.
Jenny,
I wanted to let you know that when I first began speaking French to my children, whom I am *determined* will be Fluent in my mother’s language, it also felt forced, fake, uncomfortable. I never was fluent in French, but was able to converse and I understood more than I could speak.
I *did* push through that, and have found that I remember a lot more than I would have thought. My accent is better than I thought. I even find that sometimes I think in French.
I’ll even speak French to my kids in front of my mother, who was always a bit critical despite our history
, because I know I’m doing what’s best for my kids even if I’m mispronouncing some words or forgetting some words.
The way I started it was by making it playful, and one word at a time. If you are interested in speaking Spanish to your kids, find a way to make it fun for ALL of you.
I’ll have a look through my homeschooling files and if I find something that I think could help, I’ll post the links here.
Ok, this is too funny. So I’ve been speaking only Spanish to my toddler today and he knows what I’m speaking because I talk to my dad in Spanish and my dad talks to him in Spanish and sometimes me and hubbie speak in Spanish, to practice.
Anyway, after about 10 minutes, my 2-year-old stops and looks at me and says, “Mama! Why you speak Spanish?”
LOL!!!!
You are right, Barb, just getting myself going and getting over the chip on my shoulder is already making it way easier. And its only day 1.
Jenny,
Good job jumping right in! And funny that your 2 yo noticed the difference. They’re more observant than we realize, aren’t they?
Jenny,
Your reference to Derrida is interesting. But I believe that people don’t serve language, rather languages serve the people who speak them, and we speak the languages that our circumstances require us to speak. I didn’t speak Spanish for years…
English is at your service and you are not speaking a language that is not yours. It is your vehicle for expression and you make it uniquely yours. That’s what Derrida was doing with French even though he may not have realized it. And now he’s part of the French canon…
You can do the same with Spanish, regardless of your fluency in it. I bet the more you attempt to use it, the more comfortable you’ll become. The trick is not to get too hung up on perfection. So you make a few mistakes in grammar, pronunciation or you lack vocabulary? No big deal. Look at it as fun and you’ll be surprised at how quickly you regain fluency, I bet.
Anyway, my two bits.
Thanks Joe. Derrida does make reference to making French his, in a forceful description that alludes to raping the language for his own sake.
You also make a good point about what language has served me. I haven’t needed Spanish for a very long time. I suppose its coming to the realization that, for my kids, I need it now.
It may irrelevant right now, but I wanted to clarify something: when I said I found it unacceptable for children of immigrants to not teach their kids the native language, I was writing from my point of view as a lifelong resident of Miami. I imagine that in places where there is no well-formed, close-knit ethnic community, it must be hard to raise kids to be fluent in a language they can only speak or hear at home.
This, however, is not true of Miami. In Miami, for me, there’s no excuse. Spanish is everywhere, sometimes even where it doesn’t belong. So I should’ve clarified that I meant it from the standpoint of living somewhere like Miami, where cultural groups exist in considerable numbers within tight communities.
I agre. If you have a bi-lingual family why not take advantage of it. I would have loved to learn Italian from my mother but her parents never taught her or her siblings. They wanted a language all their own so the adults could discuss things without the kids knowing. So now, years later we have two generations that only speak English. Such a shame.