Interpretations of a Bilingual Life

Noticias/News

To learn more about bilingualism & trilingualism follow me on twitter (trilingualbaby). You can also read a monthly post (first one today: 3/5/10) about my attempts to create a trilingual home at www.spanglishbaby.com This website has a plethora of information about raising bilingual and trilingual children. I think many readers will enjoy it as much as I have.

My first Latino teacher.

I never really thought much about whether or not having a teacher you could ethnically or culturally identify with made a difference in terms of interest or motivation in subject matter. Probably because I didn’t have a Latino teacher until I went to community college! In fact, this wonderful professor influenced me so much that I decided to major in English Literature because of my experience in two of his classes.

When I started community college I had this intense motivation to do well in school. I started high school with the same enthusiasm, but it slowly dwindled as my classes became more and more tracked ones. The track I was on included students who worked; at the time I had three jobs. I’m sure they tracked us based on test scores and other criteria blah blah blah, it’s not right in my opinion. These classes pretty much consisted of students doing umm nothing. Seriously, in one of my English classes half the class would sleep while the teacher spoke about nothing. One day I decided to ask him, “Mr. Monotone, why do you keep “lecturing” when half the class is asleep?” His response: “Well because I know most of you work and all you want to do is graduate.” I was speechless. He refused to teach or attempt to engage us because he had already decided our intentions AND our future in a way.

Several of my classes from science, math, to English were set up like the one above.

I can still remember my first day of community college. I’ll never forget it. I arrived on campus about an hour before my first class began and opened up my math textbook. It was pre-algebra. A very basic pre-algebra like they probably shouldn’t have named it pre-algebra. At any rate, I sat there, staring at my book with the intention that I was going to make it! To make a long story short I ended up getting a “D” in that class and had to make it up.

The following semester I enrolled in another course that was also required: English 101 with a Mr. Garcia. I purposely picked his class because we shared the same last name and it was a required course, so I thought, “Perfect, I’ll just take the course with him.” As it turned out we were born in the same city, Brownsville, TX and he attended the same highschool as my parents. Even at that time I had no idea that having a professor with a similar background as me would make a difference, but it did. He not only loved teaching writing, he loved to write and share stories. He got me interested in writing. The following semester I decided to take another required  course taught by him, but this time we were studying literature, in addition to writing. If it weren’t for my experience with him I probably would not have pursued a B.A. in English Literature when I transferred to the University of Texas at Austin (UT). In fact, I ended up taking a course with his uncle!!! The only reason I learned that they were related was because they were sharing similar stories in class. I had to ask Dr. Hinojosa-Smith if he was related to a Mr. Garcia. They were to my surprise!!

This blog posting may seem as if I were talking about just any other professor who cared about his students and in many ways I am, BUT I whole heartedly believe that he caught my attention, my interest in English Literature because we are both Chicano, which means the stories he shared resonated with my Mexican-American background. In fact, current research states that when children can identify, ethnically or racially, with a teacher; they are more engaged/interested in the subject matter.

The last time I communicated with him I was asking for a letter of recommendation for a Masters program I was applying to and letting him know I was also recently engages. At the end of the conversation he said, “Make sure you let me know when you get your PhD or have a baby whichever comes first.” If only he knew that I’m working on both, as I write this post, but that the baby will most definitely come first.

Thank you, Mr. Garcia!

Future Trilingual Baby?

Since I have ventured into my doctoral studies I have had little time to write on my blog. I’m also afraid that my time will be less available once my little bebito/a enters this world. I’m due June 7th! I have always planned on teaching my baby three languages, so I decided to take French this past fall. Boy was that going well UNTIL I started contracting extra hours. I’ll leave the fact that I dropped out of the second session of my French class for another posting.

Back to teaching my baby three languages. After attempting to learn a third one myself (and I still haven’t totally given up) I realize how hard and how much effort it’s going to take to teach three languages! If there’s ever a reason I was born a stubborn Taurus; this must be it.

Naturally, my baby is already exposed to Spanish & English, but French, that will be a challenge. We started reading to the baby and we started with a French book. I had my husband read it. This is when he was reminded that he needs to start attending French meet-up groups. So, the bottom line is I’m nervous about this venture. If I’m nervous, someone who knows more about language acquisition than the average person, then it’s no wonder parents don’t teach their children additional languages.

I have a game plan. I purchased the book The Bilingual Family by Edith Harding & Philip Riley.  I plan on using their recommendations, in addition to researching ones for raising a trilingual baby. Fortunately, Austin offers several French schools for children, although they are all private. 

Well…until we actually start making our home a trilingual one I guess everything, even raising a trilingual baby is questionable. Wish us luck. Better yet give us advice on how to go about this please.

“Soy mexicano pero del otro lado.”

I love this quote because it proves that a dual identity exists. I’m quoting my Tio Ramon. He was born in Brownsville, TX, but “looks” mexicano as he would put it. I was hanging out at my abuelitas when he and I started talking about something related to the quote. I think he had just gotten home from work. He’s a mechanic. He was telling us how some of the mexicanos that either come in to get their car worked on or that work with him ask him what part of Mexico he is from. My uncle Ramon said, “I just always tell them, ‘Soy mexicano pero del otro lado,’ in other words, he has Mexican roots, but is an American citizen.

If you have ever been to Brownsville, wait, you don’t even have to go to Brownsville, just look at a map, you will see that the only other city south of Brownsville is Matamoros, Mexico. But, if you did go, you would notice a dichotomy…a blend almost between the two cities, the two countries. Spanish flows back and forth across the border as “easily” as the people.

One of the interesting things I find about these two border towns, other than their close proximity, are their names. Apparently, Brownsville was named after some man, but I always tell people that I think its interesting that there just so happens to be alot of brown people there, too. Now Matamoros is a different story. Mata means to kill and moros refers to the Moors….hmmm strange….very strange. Interestingly enough there seems to have always been alot of drug trafficking violence in this border town. So much that the last time I went my other uncle refused to go there unless we drove my “older” car. Something he had never done before. We went to Matamoros got what we needed, which happend to be drugs, but the legal kind, and went back to B-ville.

-La tierra que yo conozco

This posting is about my feisty, Latina mother. She is actually  a re-markable woman! She made me and my two sisters who we are today. To put it quite simply, my dad had a hand in our upbringing during the  elementary years, which explains a great deal of our tendencies to, well laugh. He taught us how to laugh at life when things weren’t as we wish they would be. She’s feisty because she’s Latina, but also because she’s had an interesting life. I want to capture a glimpse of my mother because she is at the heart of all of my interests and pursuits in life.

I never really understood why my mother was so damn feisty and maybe I never will, but what I have learned about her is that she struggled to change her identity when she immigrated from Tamaulipas, Mexico as a teenager. Now, I’m not saying that immigrating to the US made her feisty. I think she was like that before she moved.

As I have pursued my studies in bilingual and bicultural education I have realized what my parents when through when they moved here not knowing a word of English. I have theories, misconceptions, studies and so much more to back up what they went through and may have felt, BUT there is ONE story that sums it all up for me. A story my mom shared with me over Christmas break last year. It captures everything I never understood about my mom and her dislike of speaking English and “American” culture.

During Christmas break I was telling her a little about what I’m studying as a doctoral student in bilingual & bicultural education when she shared this connection.

“When I first moved to the U.S. I would have the same dream over and over.  I dreamt that I was an eagle fly over -mi tierra- I would fly over my country, my city where I grew up and I would say –esta es la tierra que YO conzco. Yo conozco ESTA tierra. Es MI tierra. For many years I had this dream.”

I think that in many ways she still feels the same way about her Mexican identity.

Hearing MY Spanish

About a month ago my husband and I decided to watch a foreign flick. It’s one of our favorite things to do together. This time the movie that was delivered (Netflix) was La misma luna. Apparently, I added it to my queue. I didn’t know what to expect. The summary mentioned that it was about Mexican immigrants in the US. Sounds almost like a cliche right. I’ve seen several movies with the same theme, so I wasn’t too excited about it, but I thought who knows.

We had been watching the movie for about 20 minutes when I noticed how many questions Marcus kept asking me like “Whats a huerco?” There a few other words or phrases he asked about like “ya mero” or “ni modo.” He proceeded to comment on how he thought it was interesting that we hadn’t heard any English, yet. Thats when I actually turned to him and said, “You know what? I hadn’t even noticed.” I realized then that all the other Spanish-language films we had watched, mostly from Spain, I instantly would adjust my ear a little to the Spanish accent, the Spanish sayings, and the tone of the language. It felt really good to listen to a Spanish that was mine. One that my ear didn’t have to adjust to. One that I was familiar with. One that I didn’t even know I was missing. One that I didn’t even know had trained my ear to be familar with AND this is very important you see because of the huge disconnect I feel as a bilingual and bicultual individual living in the US, but still not part of the majority. I’m in the middle somewhere.

So, now I wonder how many times have I rejected MY Spanish because it wasn’t hmm “good enough” without realizing that it is MY Spanish that makes me who I am….bilingual & bicultural.

The Trilingual Journey Begins…

I’ve decided to start the journey. The journey of becoming trilingual. I’m scared. I’ve come up with several excuses as to why I can hold off on starting my French classes: no time, too much money, how much could I possibly learn….the list goes on. I decided to start this HUGE endeavor because I’ve never taken a foreign language course. Sure, I took Spanish in highschool for the easy “A,” but it wasn’t a foreign language to me.

Mostly, I decided to do this because I envy & admire people who can speak 3, 4, or more languages. I envy their experiences. I admire the work and committment they put into acquiring a new language. I’m jealous that they can see the world through a different lense AND I know they can because I do when I speak Spanish.

Truthfully? It’s not all about being envious and admiring multi-linguals. I think it’s important to learn more than one language. I’ve stated it before in my blog that I believe the entire US should be bilingual…at least.  They should AT LEAST have the opportunity to become bilingual. As I have found my self saying this numerous times it dawned on me that I haven’t ever tried to learn an additional language. How can I say that everyone should learn a second language when I haven’t even done just that. I’m what they call in the bilingual education world a “heritage language learner.” I was lucky to live with parents who’s native language is Spanish. It was easier to “pick it up” as they say. So…..as I mentioned….the trilingual journey has begun.

The language of choice? It’s French. Why? Well it ultimately came down to logistics. At first I really wanted to learn Portuguese because I thought it could benefit me and any possible research I may one day do in South America. The more I thought about it, AND believe me this is something that has been stirring in my mind for some time now, the more I realized that it had to be French. It’s quite simple. My husband speaks conversational French. I don’t think he’s fluent, but then again it’s hard to tell when I have no idea what he’s saying, BUT based on what others and he have told me, he knows basic conversational skills, what we call BICS in the bilingual education world, which is fine with me! Since he speaks French I thought it would be a lot easier to teach our children French, Spanish, & English if the whole family spoke the same languages. See…purely logistics.

So, I’m now at a point when I have to pick a school to learn French. I’m leaning towards the “Alliance Francaise” in Austin because they have small class sizes and they’re pretty reputable. Another reason why I decided to take this on is because I wanted to get a students perspective when learning an additional language…one completely foreign to them, unlike what my “foreign language” experience was like in high school. I am realizing why many individuals do not learn a second language. There is a huge commitment, financial, and time component. There are also alot of “not so great” language schools out there.

All of the above being said, I’M EXCITED. I won’t actually believe it until I am sitting in class listening to French and slowly, but surely sharing a few French words with fellow classmates.

Wish me luck!

La Vie En Rose

The following quote is one of my favorites:

“I haven’t been to Paris for ages.  But this evening, when you were singing, Edit….I was there…in the streets, beneath the sky.  Your voice is the soul of Paris. You took me on a journey. You made me cry. Thank you from the bottom of my heart.”

It comes from the movie “Le Vie En Rose.” If you haven’t seen it, go and rent it tonight! It’ll touch your heart. It’s about one of the most famous French singers ever, Edit Piaf. I won’t get into the movie, but I will share that when a woman in the movie said this to Edit I had to quickly pause the film and write it down. Edit is singing in America and in the crowd there is a very well known fellow Francophone. I can’t remember who this woman is, but she is utterly touched my Edit’s singing. In fact, as she states in the quote she hadn’t been in Paris for ages, but that evening when Edit sang, she was there…in Paris.

There are so many reasons why this quote practically brought tears to my eyes. Not only did it reinforce how powerful language can be, but it confirmed what I always suspected or felt when I heard Spanish being spoken after we moved into a predominately anglo city. There was a sense of “being home” …a sense of intimacy.

If you think about it, it makes perfect sense. One of our five senses is hearing. For instance, how many times have you eaten something that reminded of your abuelita? Or how many have you smelled the perfume you mother used to wear and instantly you are taken back in time? It’s the same way with language especially if you are hearing your foreign language in a foreign city/country after so much time has passed.

Language is tied to your identity….to who you are and to who you were….wherever you may be.

How Washington,D.C. re-shaped my identity as a Mexican-American.

I never really felt proud to be an American. In addition, I never really could relate to history courses in high school and college, but I couldn’t exactly figure out why. All of that changed when I visited Washington, D.C. for the very first time a few years ago. I was going there to take a course at the Center for Applied Linguistics in Dual Language Teaching Methods.

I was there with three other fellow teachers. We were all part of pilot dual language (two-way immersion) program in Kansas City, MO. As soon as we landed and took a taxi to our hotel (which was near Dupont Circle where all the embassies are located…very cool) I caught a glimpse of the city and many of the monuments.  I was reminded of Rome, Italy and the long walks my sister and I took to see all of their monuments and museums. I was looking forward to venturing out into the city to do just the same. I had heard about Arlington Cemetary, the Lincoln Memorial, and the Smithsonians of course and was looking forward to simply enjoying another large city in the U.S.

After our classes ended we ventured out into the city. I, of course, had to go see the Celia Cruz (a.k.a The Queen of Salsa) exhibit at one of the Smithsonians.  The ladies I was with wanted to go to the National Archives, the Vietnam Memorial, and Arlington Cemetary. Quite honestly, all I wanted to do was check out the Smithsonians and the Holocaust museum. I wasn’t really interested in seeing all the “original” documents in the National Archives. I went nonetheless.

If you have ever been to Washington, D.C. you probably have experienced something similar. Once you “get over” the excitment about seeing these amazing monuments at our nations capital, you will probably start to reflect on ALL the names on the Vietnam wall, the statues of “real people” near the Lincoln Memorial, the pictures of actual soldiers at the Arlington Cemetary. And you will start to reflect and think about what their lives must of been like. What their families must have gone through. I usually don’t say or feel this way about veterans, but I felt a sense of gratefulness for having people willing to go fight for our freedom, but also a sense of guilt for not feeling this way before….I can’t explain it. If you ever have a chance to go you may also realize that D.C. can be a little depressing…especially after visiting the Holocaust museum.

One of the last places we visited was the National Archives and it was there that I finally realized why I never felt a sense of pride for being American, nor did I feel like I fit in….as I am writing this, I still lack the words to describe exactly how I feel. There’s a sense of disconnect. At any rate, in the National Archives there is this wall and on the wall there are a series of questions. If you can answer “yes” to one of the questions then there is a possibility that you  or your family has some sort of record in the archives. After answering “no” to several questions in a row I had to pause. Thats when it hit me! My family has NO history recorded in the National Archives. Many of the records are from before the time my parents immigrated to the U.S. I know this may sound irrelavent to many people, but if you could only have lived in my skin, only then could you understand.

So, how did my visit to D.C. re-shape my identity has a Mexaican-American? Well, it took me a while shortly after my trip to D.C. to feel a sense of American pride. I’m proud that my generation, the first-born and raised in the USA, is recording history as Mexican-Americans. There are still times when I feel a sense of disconnect, but for the most part I can pinpoint where I stand today as a Latina in the US and how my generation will and has shaped US history. As I type the final words to this posting I’m still a little unsure if I realize how my identity was re-shaped by this extraordinary visit. Maybe it’s because my identity is constantly evolving….

Language Varieties in the American School System.

I recently submitted a final paper to my Literacy & Culture class @ UT. The topic was: The Use of Language During a Read Aloud. For those of you who aren’t familiar with “read alouds” they basically consist of the teacher reading a book to the class. They serve several purposes from reading for pleasure to teaching social activism.

In previous posts I have mentioned my reservations with the use of language varieties by the teacher in the classroom. In a more recent post I mentioned that my views about the use of language varieties in the classroom was changing. I think I may have made a major shift. After the pilot project I implemented in a 3rd grade bilingual class room I do believe that the use of code-switching and Spanglish in the classroom is ok. Really, it is. Let me further explain.

I decided to read four books to a class of bilingual children. There was obviously a spectrum of language proficiencies in the classroom. Not all children were “fully” bilingual. Some were Spanish dominant and others relied on code-switching more. As I was saying I read four books. One was a monolingual English book, one was a monolingual Spanish book, and the other two were code-switching books. When I read each book I, as the teacher, stuck with the language the book was written in. So, for example if there was code-switching in the book I code-switched whenever I spoke to the students. It was quite liberating!

Here were some of the things I noticed. The majority of the children chose to use the language I was using, which was also the language the book was written in. Here’s the interesting point. During the monolingual read alouds the conversations about the books related strictly to the content in the book. During the read aloud of the code-switching books, or what I was calling the culturally and linguistically relevant books, the conversations were not only about the content in the books, but about the children’s home lives! In fact, when I asked them to respond to a dilemma one of the characters was experiencing, which was one they could relate to; I found that the use of language for the written responses was irrelevant to the language I was using or the one the book was written in!!!

After I was done writing my 20 page paper I learned that if we use the language varieties the children bring into the classroom as a learning tool rather than focusing on getting them to constantly produce Standard  English or Standard Spanish, then maybe we will also develop critical thinkers! And by nurturing critical thinkers the language development will follow. That being said, if I were still a classroom teacher I would still make sure my lessons included the use of all language varieties including my pursuit of developing Standard Spanish or Standard English.