My interest in teaching English as a Second Language (ESL) was cultivated by many experiences, both academic and social. Despite our German heritage, my entire extended family also consisted of monolingual English speakers. I grew up in Houston, Texas, where there is a large population of Spanish speakers. Growing up, I would occasionally hear Spanish in public places, on the Tejano radio stations, and channel surfing through the telenovelas and noticias. It wasn't until fifth grade when I had my first meaningful experience with the Spanish language and culture. I begin taking Spanish in school, and became friends with a girl named Gaby whose father was Cuban and whose mother was Mexican. As our friendship grew, so did my interest in this new language and culture. I experienced the joy of her mother's homemade tomales, and loved hearing her mother speak Spanish (Gaby only responded in English). Although I could only understand the numbers, colors, and basic vocabulary used in her conversation, I was intrigued. Two years later, I was invited to join the Sardinas family on a trip to Mexico during the summer. We spent most of our time in Guadalajara, where we stayed with her abuela who only spoke Spanish. At just thirteen years of age, I had the privilege of seeing murals by Diego Rivera, ornate cathedrals, and lively markets. Her abuela and tías were amazing cooks, and needless to say, I didn't go hungry. While I had continued to take Spanish at school, no amount of flashcard making could enable me to keep up with the conversations taking place. Gaby grew weary of translating, and I learned to just enjoy my time with her family as a clueless gringa.
Back at school in the fall, as an eighth grader, I prioritized my Spanish studies. I took advantage of the time I spent with Gaby's family, and became good friends with another girl named Alex. Alex, whose parents were both Cuban, was a childhood friend of Gaby's. Their fathers were both successful doctors, and they were also connected through the strong Cuban network in Houston. Alex's mother immediately grew to love me after I expressed interest in learning her native language. Alex took a great deal of pride in her Cuban roots, although she has never traveled there. Her parents immigrated as teenagers, and were forced to "sink or swim" in their American high schools. They both fortunately swam, and made wonderful lives for themselves and their two daughters. They had many friends in Miami, and purchased a condo on the beach so they could visit on a regular basis. Alex always raved about the beautiful beaches, her mother's hilarious friends, and the Ropa Vieja at her favorite Cuban restaurant. The summer before we started high school, I joined the Sedeño family on their trip to Miami. While my Spanish had improved with another year of schooling, I was still unable to keep up with Alex's mother and her girlfriends' animated dialogue. The trip was another incredible opportunity to learn about the Cuban culture that was so different from my own. Two years later, in high school, I returned with Alex's family to Miami, and was only more inspired to by her Cuban roots. This time, I was able to understand about twenty percent of the conversation, and could converse with them using the Spanish I'd been learning in school.
As I reflect back on my travel experiences with these families, I remember how allured I was by their lively, animated discourse, the intimacy with family and friends, their music, their food, the way the could move their hips on the dance floor, and just their way of life. I wanted in on the secret. I realize it was this desire to understand and even be a part of these cultures that motivated me to study Spanish. Throughout high school, I was a devoted Spanish student and took all the way through Advanced Placement (AP) Spanish 4. I placed well enough on the AP to earn 4 semesters worth of college Spanish courses. However, I was not comfortable communicating with native Spanish speakers. My conversational Spanish was limited to my classes in school, with a small percentage of students who were native speakers. My friendships faded with Gaby and Alex, primarily because my family had moved farther away and we attended different high schools. After high school, I followed the family tradition of attending Texas A&M University, and decided to major in business and minor in Spanish. My hope was to pursue a career in international business.
After two years of pursuing a Spanish minor in college, I was aboard a plane to Madrid, Spain. I would spend the summer in Granada, living with a host family and taking classes at the local university. This was my chance to finally become fluent in a language I loved. After arriving in Granada and meeting Conchi and Eugenio, my “Spanish parents,” I headed to La Universidad for placement exams. Following oral and written tests, I was pleasantly surprised to be placed in the highest level offered. Walking into a class of all native speakers was intimidating. Conversing with them was more challenging. For years, I had poured my heart and soul into learning “textbook Spanish,” and could comfortably speak with my classmates and teachers. But this was unlike anything I had ever experienced. My professor didn’t know a word of English. My mother tongue was no longer a crutch to lean on.
It quickly became clear that to succeed during my time in Spain, I would have to let go of my pride. I had to allow myself to be vulnerable. There was no time to be shy and afraid to ask questions. I learned to just let my words flow without consulting myself to confirm that every conjugation was correct, or that each syllable was pronounced perfectly. While I was on track in the classroom, I was struggling to keep the momentum going at home. My roommates, two other American girls, and I often spoke English. Since we had a variety of motives that brought each of us to Spain, I had to remain true to mine. After discussing the issue, we compromised to establish some “house rules,” such as no English in the presence of our Spanish hosts. The first night I dreamt in Spanish, I knew I had reached the level I wanted to be at, and each step along the way had been worth it. In July, I left Granada, proficient in this wonderful language.
After returning from Spain, I had much fewer opportunities to practice my Spanish in an authentic context. My abilities waned, and my focus in school went to my Accounting and Marketing courses. After graduation, I was excited to be accepted into the Teach For America (TFA) program and was assigned to teach ESL. It was no doubt my application essay about studying abroad that prompted the TFA staff to assign me to ESL. I was grateful to begin exercising my Spanish skills again with letters home and conversations with my Dominican, Puerto Rican, and Mexican parents. While I still feel like I am sometimes missing about ten percent of what a Spanish speaker may be saying, I feel a profound connection with my Spanish-speaking students. It is extremely rewarding to see light bulbs going off when I translate one vocabulary word for a student who would have otherwise been lost. There is also a strong sense of community built with parents who appreciate their child’s teacher understands and values their home language. This in itself is well worth the years of hard work I put into my Spanish studies.
As I reflect on my experiences with other languages and culture throughout my life, what stands out to me is exposure. I am eternally grateful to my dear friends and their families who fueled my desire to learn Spanish. Looking back, it was the first trip to Mexico that sparked the flame of the fire to learn another language. In addition, I was fortunate enough to be able to study abroad. These experiences exposed me to cultures I would not have learned about otherwise, and kept me extremely motivated and committed to my language studies. As an ESL teacher thinking about my own experience, I realize how my motivation to learn and understand the Spanish culture induced me put extra effort into my studies of the language. My experiences traveling abroad provided insight into what it is like to feel like the only person who doesn’t understand what is going on in a situation. This is a humbling experience, and is vital to understanding how a newcomer feels upon arrival in this country. I also learned I had to be vulnerable speaking L2 in order to grow. My hope is that my students find the motivation needed to help them succeed in learning English, and to allow themselves to make mistakes as they learn. To support them along the way, I will do my best to remove the barriers that hinder growth, and remain empathetic as they emerge into bilinguals.
