For as long as I can remember, I have been able to speak two languages: Spanish, which I learned at home from my parents, and English, taught to me in school. Being able to speak Spanish made me think I was Mexican, which I am by descent. I remember my parents’ friends congratulating me for being able to speak both languages since there were, and still are, people of Spanish-speaking descent who did not learn Spanish or have forgotten it completely. These praises made me feel I was yet more Mexican.

If I could turn back time, I would tell myself not to feel as proud, or think I was better than others, for being bilingual. Looking back at the past, being Mexican, or any other nationality, is not characterized solely by knowing a language. Instead, it is learning and being able to share traditions from your country.

In 2020, my family moved to Mexico due to the pandemic. This set various barriers I thought I would not be able to overcome.

First, I struggled with my knowledge of the language, since I had a vocabulary limited to that which I used at home. Words and phrases like: ‘School went well’ or ‘What are we having for dinner?’, did not help me communicate with my new classmates as I had with my friends in the United States. 

I didn’t know how to use accents. I didn’t know that the verb ‘tropezar’ did not have an ‘m’. I didn’t know the difference between ‘there is’, ‘there’, and an exclamation, which are phonetically similar in Spanish. I didn’t want to properly learn Spanish since I believed we would be returning to the United States the next school year. I slowly started losing sense of who I was.

Holiday after holiday approached. This is when I realized that I knew nothing about my country. Dates like Sept. 16, Nov. 20, and others seemed like any ordinary day to me. I didn’t know who was on the bills or why we celebrated them. Not even the national anthem. I had never asked myself: ‘Why do we have an eagle on our flag?,’ or ‘Who was Miguel Hidalgo and why is he carrying a banner with the Virgin of Guadalupe?.’ My pride which I had carried as a child shrunk as I compared myself to my classmates since they had lived these holidays every year. 

I have yet to know every rule in grammar, but I put my best effort to be able to improve my knowledge. Although at one point my pride in being Mexican had lessened when I started school in Mexico,  it has now grown larger once I learned the history and origins of Mexican culture and traditions.

If I could go back in time, I would tell myself to thank my parents for that stage of learning. I had taken it as a punishment for being separated from the life I had already been accustomed to. Now I see the only thing my parents wanted for my siblings and me was to learn where we came from, to always remember our ‘Mexico Lindo y Querido’ and always carry it with us.