For someone, who grow up in a Cuban immigrant family my Spanish should be much more fluent than it is. I am fluent but unlike with English, Spanish words do not come as easily to me. When I was a little girl, Spanish used to be easier for me to speak but then I became ashamed of it. I focused all my energy on expanding my English vocabulary. This is a poem about my experiences with the Spanish language.
My Spanish is heavy on my tongue
Mangled as it leaves my mouth
My Spanish is a child in timeout
Asking what it ever did wrong
To deserve such dismissal
It asks me why I reprimand it
For not meeting my expectations
When I never taught it how to
My Spanish asks me why I use it as proof
That I am Latina enough
Then force it to the back of my throat
Why I blame it for being cut up by my teeth
Why I call it chusma* then French beautiful
It asks me why I am ashamed of it
Yet still covers me with love and warmth
When I pay attention to it
My Spanish is my people
Those I used to be ashamed of
But not anymore
I am bringing Spanish back
To the front of my mouth
All the way to the tip of my tongue
*chusma=hoodlum, cheap, sleazy
