2023 Short Story & Essay Contest: First Place, High School Essay Contest
When I started school, I didn’t know English. My parents only spoke to me in Spanish. In kindergarten, I’d walk into the classroom to hear a blur of voices and not understand a single word. I did what most kids in my situation do, stayed silent. This made matters worse. I can still remember my kindergarten teacher’s irritation, coupled with angry questions I assume were about my lack of participation. To him, I may have been silent, but my thoughts were anything but. I don’t understand you, repeated like a mantra in my brain. I was then placed in English for Speakers of Other Languages.
ESOL was painful, with trauma and insecurity in every corner of those classrooms. As time passed, I believed I had learned. The ESOL department, however, did not. My mom and I were fed up with me being taken out of regular class time to learn “to be” verbs, something I was proficient at, so she chose to take me out of ESOL, believing it was holding me back. This turned out to be a double-edged sword. Phrases such as “more better” remained ingrained in my everyday vocabulary and became my biggest insecurity. At least beforehand I had the excuse of not knowing English. Now I knew the language, I knew the rules, but my brain didn’t want to cooperate.
I felt vulnerable and looked for blame: The beloved language that was number one in my house but not number one elsewhere was my target. I’m ashamed to admit I tried to lose anything to do with Spanish. No longer would I hear “speak English” or “you’re saying it wrong.” My parents noticed and confronted me. I told them I didn’t care. My parents, who spoke to me in Spanish 95% of the time. My parents, who raised me in their Salvadoran culture. I still remember what I said when they asked me why I didn’t care about our language: your language, not mine. I had consciously developed a hatred toward my identity.
In high school, I started taking Spanish for Spanish Speakers after my parents didn’t let me take French. I never had a class that showed me the importance and beauty of my language. I only heard that I needed to improve my English and forget my Spanish. These classes taught me to embrace my identity and culture. The hatred turned into pride and a desire to communicate, so I relearned Spanish. I’ve been able to tutor Spanish-speaking students and even became the first Spanish language editor for the newspaper in my high school’s history.
Now the student wants to become the teacher. School had been an area of self-doubt for so long, but I changed that. I broke this cycle of trauma and self-hatred within myself and got to the point where the subject I want to teach is English. I know I can do the same for other Spanish-speaking students. After all, English is my language too.
Emily Rivera
Lives in: Silver Spring
Age: 17
School: Graduated from Albert Einstein High School in June; attending American University in the fall
Favorite place to write: “My living room with a telenovela playing in the background. Since it’s not in English, I don’t get distracted from the task at hand.”
Favorite author: Julia Alvarez
How she got the idea for this essay: “It’s a shortened version of my college essay.”
Up next: She’s writing a book of poems.
