My native tongue was slowly disappearing. Conquered by a foreign language just like my ancestors. Adapting to change and modern ideas. The struggle of keeping my native tongue alive while learning another is complicated. The battle between the two, differences and similarities. Growing up in a dominantly Spanish community and household learning and adapting to speaking English was a battle and an ongoing war. Ever since I could remember I heard Spanish everywhere, in my mother’s womb, the radio, tv, in my community and family speaking it. I practically came out of my mother’s womb speaking Spanish and wrapped around Mexican Culture.

 It wasn’t until I was five years old that I lost touch with my native tongue. Having to adapt to a new environment at school, hearing unfamiliar words being spoken to me. Luckily, I had an older sister who had the same experience as me. Eventually school and my mother noticed my struggle to learn English. At school, the teacher and faculty took it in their hands to get me involved in group reading and writing activities to help expand my English vocabulary and understanding. I would also take an annual test at school to see how my English has changed and track my progress from years prior. At home my sister at the age of seven was in charge of helping her little sister with her homework, reading, and writing. My mom would try her best to speak her broken English and eliminate our culture completely. And for what, in her words “Es para tu bien y para mejorar la familia y también para tu educación, imaginate en tu futuro mija.” (It’s for your good, and to better the family, and for your education, imagine your future daughter.) The only future I saw was one where I lost my cultural identity. In all honesty any immigrant or children of immigrants can relate to this feeling, of losing the only thing that identified you as ethnic.

In school I would be bullied and made fun of for having an accent when speaking English. Being bullied made me desire to improve my English. My summers were different from other kids. My siblings and I were reading, writing and doing math all summer while other kids rode their bikes, went to the community pool, and had fun. My siblings would always be mean to me because in their own words, “It’s your fault we’re not outside right now. God, why do you have to be so dumb!” In and out of school I would be bullied and made fun of for having an accent when speaking English or making silly little grammar mistakes while speaking English. Being bullied and teased by classmates and my siblings made me have a burning desire to improve my English. As years went on, I started to focus on doing my best in every subject in that I avoided being teased and instead I was praised. I was book smart as my siblings would tell me, and they were street smart. In all honesty, I believe  tension between my siblings and I grew by having it out for each other. I was the youngest daughter, the favorite one, and my siblings were bitter, and felt left out of the affection given to us by our parents. Having a mother who was born and raised in Guerrero, Mexico and father who was born and raised in Jalisco, Mexico — they tend to favor the academic child because in their eyes they were bettering the family and moving forward then past generations and had better opportunities than they had growing up. They saw that the sacrifice they made— of leaving their life behind and moving to a foreign country— being paid off.

 As years moved on my fluency in Spanish slowly disappeared and I started to gain knowledge and speak better English. I started to struggle to understand what it meant to be Mexican or Mexican American, doubting myself for losing my cultural ties and wanting to preserve them. I started to focus on how I can learn and understand both Spanish and English and have a balance of two. Trying to regain all the Spanish I lost was a struggle, being ridiculed by elders of my family for speaking my broken Spanish or not knowing how to pronounce words, being made fun of by cousins born and raised in Mexico. But why? It wasn’t my fault. I never want to lose it. Being told by my step-grandmother that my Spanish needs to improve and I make too many errors. “Chely, necesitas mejorar tu español, y necesitas practicar tu español.” (Chely, you need to improve your Spanish, and practice your Spanish.) But her daughter, my step-aunt who was born and raised in the United States was no different than me, but she never says anything to her, if anything her Spanish is worse than mine. At that moment I had two things in my mind, 1. Y tu hija que!? Tiene el nopal en la frente y ni sabe como hablar o escribir en espanol y yo si! (And your daughter, what!? She has a freakin cactus in her forehead and she doesn’t know how to speak or write in Spanish, and I do!)  and 2. That I would learn and preserve both Spanish and English and be a mastermind in both languages and prove everyone who made fun of me wrong. 

It was a struggle at first having to regain all my Spanish at once and continue my English vocabulary. Restoring all that has been lost was hard, restoring traditions, restoring my culture. I would talk to my grandmother and mother about our traditional dishes, spending time with and as they taught me. My grandmother told me, “Tu vida es muy diferente de tus primos, y padres. Es muy importante que no olvidas de donde vienes. No olvidas de tus tradicones y cultura! Te voy ayudar a restaurar tus lazos culturales, pero depende de ti mantenerlos y pasarlos.” (Your life is very different from your cousins, and your parents. It’s very important that you don’t forget where you come from. Never forget about your traditions and culture! I’m going to help you restore your cultural ties and it’s up to you to keep them and pass them down).With the help of my grandmother I slowly started learning about our traditions and ancestral habits. I slowly started listening to Banda, Corridos, Rancheros or any music that was made in Spanish. Watch telenovelas such as Rosario Tijeras, Rebelde, Sin Senos Si Hay Paraiso, and much more. I would watch YouTube videos, use apps like Duolingo to better expand my Spanish vocabulary and learn how words were pronounced. Listening to children’s nursery and the Spanish alphabet, reading children books in Spanish and slowly moving to reading chapter books. Making friends with people in Mexico and practicing my Spanish whenever I would take my annual trip to Mexico. Speaking Spanish to family members, cousins, my mother and father in Spanish to practice. I would also take Spanish classes provided in middle school and high school to expand my Spanish vocabulary even more. Eventually all my efforts paid off and my Spanish got better. When I would go to Mexico and visit family or friends, they would tell me “Ya no tienes tu acento Americano y hablas mejor el Espanol.” (You don’t have your American accent anymore and your Spanish is improving.) And it was and I’m going to keep it that way.

So, no my native tongue is not going to disappear. I won’t let my ancestor or cultural ties die. Never, I’m going to pass down my knowledge in  both Spanish and English to my children and their children and so on. My ancestor’s struggle, tears, and pain and mine won’t be in vain. For now, I have the key balance between the two, me and many others call this balance “Spanglish”, the Establish Mexican American language.