In my early years of childhood, I used to only speak English. I obviously went to English-speaking schools, and while many kids in my town were Hispanic, we never really spoke Spanish to each other. My grandmother, a 60-year-old woman from Colombia, did not speak English up until I was about five, and communicating with her was difficult. I knew some sentences in Spanish, and I was able to tell her what I wanted to eat, but other than that, we rarely talked. My mother was not very concerned with me learning Spanish at the time. She felt as though it was not important for me to learn. In her eyes it made sense: we live in America, so why learn any language other than English? It was in first grade when I first started to learn Spanish. I vividly remember my grandmother sitting me down at the kitchen table and having me spell basic Spanish words. My least favorite word, piscina, which meant “pool” was the one I struggled with the most because I could never remember if it was spelled with an “S”, a “C”, or both.

As the years went on, I became fluent in Spanish. It also helped to have most of my family in Colombia and I would take trips there every summer from ages three to 17. I was always fascinated by how different everything was there. The currency, food, and way of life were drastically different from the American lifestyle. At traffic lights, people would juggle and entertain drivers in exchange for money or food. The people valued community and neighbors were always willing to offer a helping hand. In general, life felt more relaxed and people lived their days at a slower pace. With each visit I met new people and saw all the different terrains that the country had to offer. I explored lush rainforests where coffee growers lived and tiny islands where locals stood in awe of my paler skin color. The country had so many diverse ethnic groups as well as a variety of landscapes, and I loved exploring them every year. My only struggle was not being able to read fluently, especially in my early years. I was also not able to express my ideas clearly when communicating with people, and I always found myself having to translate words in my head before I spoke them. In some cases, if I did not know the word for something, I had to describe it and hope the person I was speaking to knew what I was talking about. As time progressed, I became more comfortable speaking Spanish to my family members, and I began to communicate this way to my classmates when I got back home.

My grandmother had always been passionate about educating me on all types of subjects. I remember being sat down to learn algebra when I was in the fourth grade. She would teach me math that I would not be seeing for another four years. She would also read classic Spanish literature, and it broadened my horizons on what classic literature should be. I had always felt that books were boring and that only smart people read. When she began to read me One Hundred Years of Solitude by Gabriel Garcia Marquez, I was fascinated. The book was captivating, and the plot was so intricate that many readers find themselves having to take notes in order to keep up with the characters. Being able to speak Spanish meant I was able to understand the story’s quirks, jokes, and puns. This book made me enjoy reading again, and it was the first book I had ever read in another language.

When I began high school, I realized many of my classmates were Latino. I went to an incredibly diverse school where I saw my classmates speaking to each other in all different languages, teaching each other foreign slang, and even multiracial couples sharing their cultures with each other. Because of my extended background in speaking Spanish, I started my freshman year off taking Spanish 3 and ended it by taking AP Spanish senior year. Every year I was put in classes with other native speakers which was incredibly beneficial because we were all able to thrive off each other in the classroom. I remember some classes in which the speaker spoke no English at all and this created a more comfortable environment. Personally, I felt like I had been transported to South America for 40 minutes, and it was always a fun class to attend. At the end of my high school career, I was able to graduate with a seal of biliteracy on my diploma and I showed it to my grandmother. I knew this made her proud because without her, that seal would not have been there.

Overall, I will forever be grateful for being forced to learn Spanish. As a child, I felt it was unnecessary to have to learn to speak another language. However, the long days of sitting at the table going over basic spelling and being frustrated are over, and I am glad that I am able to communicate with twice the amount of people. I realized this has benefited me as well as other people from the start. One memory is having a new student from the Dominican Republic who did not speak much English come to my school in second grade, and I was one of the only students at the time who was comfortable and able to help him adjust to a new country. There have been numerous times when I have helped translate something for someone in need and I owe this skill to my grandmother. Without her, I would not have the same outlook on life, linguistic capabilities, or know the importance of teaching children new skills from a young age so that they can carry this knowledge for the rest of their lives.