I grew up with teaching myself. My mother was born in Colombia, then came here specifically to learn English and go back to her home country until she met my dad and from that moment her entire life changed. I was raised in a Hispanic middle class home. My first language was Spanish and when I started elementary school I learned English. Just beginning elementary school, I was already struggling with the language I was in ESL classes at school and then speech therapy on the side. I was struggling with learning a new language and adjusting to school. My mom was not born here so I had to teach myself everything or I had a tutor to do so. It was hard watching my mom struggle to do anything she could in her power so that I was able to understand. I never liked my dad teaching me anything even though he was from here and knew the language perfectly. My dad expected me to know everything so it would lead him into getting frustrated and having outbursts of anger towards me whenever he had to help me with anything …show more content…
It was an ugly one but everything happens for a reason. My parents needed to be separate so they can actually function. Once my parents divorced my mom and I moved out of my dads and we moved into a new home. I started a new chapter of my life, high school in a new home with my mom by my side. Now my mom had to take on the father and mother role at the same time. She had to pay all the bills provide me with transportation, cook, clean and work all at the same time financially supporting herself and I. Some days were extremely long and some felt like they were never ending. I would always remember waking up and my mom never having been there because she would always be working. Hustle while people are sleeping, I always thought to myself. I would only see my mom just for a few hours everyday. Usually I have to cook for myself and do everything by
My entire family was born in Guadalajara, Mexico. After three and a half years of living there my family decided to seek a better future in The United States. My father would go to the United States back and forth to work and earn money to send to us in Mexico. Eventually my mother was able to get a visa and my brother along with my little sister had an alternate way into the United States. We lived in Dallas Texas and Atlanta Georgia before settling in Howard county Maryland in a very small apartment. Luckily we were doing pretty well with my dad being the only one knowing English at the time. My father was working two jobs and I was getting ready to start kindergarten. I was very excited because the education we would have received in Mexico was nothing compared to the education in Howard County. I was excited for what was to come, but there were disadvantages of knowing only Spanish. Being bullied because of my poor English had an impact on me. I was in completely separate classes learning things that were simple compared to the regular course. I was excluded from certain activities, field trips and assemblies. I was clueless at first though as I slowly learned the language I understood things a lot more.
Even though English is her native language, she became fascinated by learning other languages, particularly Spanish, when she was in high school and was taking her first foreign language class. She took Spanish I, II, and III during high school and decided to continue her pursuit in developing the language even further when she went to college. She said that she taught Spanish on the high school level for a few years but then later took a position working at an elementary school. At that particular school, she saw a number of students coming in with their parents and neither the parents nor children spoke very much English. She usually would be the one who had to translate to the appropriate people to help out. So she saw that need and decided that she wanted to help in that capacity and therefore lead her to what she has been doing for the past eight years.
Moving from Jordan to the United States was challenging for my family. I was the only child at the time and my parents primarily spoke Arabic in the house. The elementary teachers I had described me as a timid student, because I could barely speak English. I had difficulty with simple reading and writing, while other students went through class with ease. Needing extra tutoring classes and years of being in ESL was exhausting. However, learning how to read, write, and speak English fluently was only the beginning of my journey.
It was tough trying to handle parents who were always drunk, always violent, always complaining that they could not afford to buy my siblings and me food when every night they would come home with two new bottles. Every night had the same ending. My mom crying for help as my father showed the true demons that hide beneath his aging flesh. I wished many times to die, cried myself to sleep almost every night, and tried my best to keep a face that did not reveal how I truly felt.
At first, speaking English was a bit difficult because I did not feel confident using it with others. The most advanced students sometimes made fun of my English. The students who spoke my own language made more fun of me than the ones who were fluent in English. The teasing by the students made me feel embarrassed and shy to speak the English language, giving me a fear of being made fun of or looked at differently. Practicing the English language with my own siblings and playing with the neighborhood kids who already managed the language gave me more confidence to speak English. Taking Spanish courses in school was also an advantage, which helped me to get better at my native language and kept me from losing it.
Spanish is my native language, however, my mother advised my siblings and I to speak only English. This was because she was afraid that we would be rejected from professional careers if our English wasn 't unaccented, fluent, and similar in refinement to the working class whites. With time, I became a fluent English speaker with a developed Central American accent but like, any other young girl, I thought nothing of it. That is until one event, in particular, occurred that would cast a shadow of embarrassment onto my Spanish language. This event not only led me to desert my entire native language but a sense of my cultural identity, as well.
As a native Spanish speaker and coming to this country five years ago from Colombia, It never crossed my mind that I would start learning another language. Even at home my mother would
I arrived to The United States when I was eight years old. I quickly learned English and practiced my language skills with pupils at school. My mother on the other hand was adamant about mastering the English language. She had lived in Peru for forty years and insisted the only language she would ever need was Spanish. I thought it was peculiar because this was coming from the woman who had taught me at a young age that learning any kind of information or concept, no matter how miniscule; is better than staying ignorant on that particular subject.
As I began school in pre-school I was taught that reading, writing and language would forever be a useful skill. Being a Spanish speaker I was lucky enough to live in small community where the majority of my class where all Spanish speaking. I remember my preschool teacher sending my home with small Spanish books to read with our parents that was our homework for the day. After that we would test on how fluent we read both the English and the Spanish version.
The most difficult event is my parents splitting up. My dad and I get to do fun things together,but things get tough most of the time. One hard thing that's difficult for me is knowing that my mom’s not around. I don't enjoy going from my dad’s to my mom’s house. Sometimes I go to my mom’s house and we do fun things together,but things get tough. When I go back to my dad's we have fun but things seem to be a little bit harder. If my parents were still together things would be a lot simpler. Another reason about why I don't like my parents not being together is that I don't get to see my mom that much anymore. However I just wish that I could see my mom more than I do but she's always working. We don't get
My first day of school in the United States opened my eyes and filled my heart with an everlasting gratitude. From the first day, I enrolled in the Rosetta Stone program to learn English. I felt great appreciation for my stepfather and this foreign country for every opportunity that had now been opened up to me. I started forcing myself to constantly speak English, I spent hours studying at home and practicing at school. My stepfather already knew English, therefore he helped me greatly in perfecting my language.
I attended a bilingual school for English and Spanish speaking kids. I have always been fluent in spanish for as long as I could remember even though english is my first language. That wasn’t the problem. All the other kids had started to read and write spanish in kindergarten, and I had to learn everything in just a short amount of time, and it was difficult for me.
When I was just about to start school, I did not know English. I struggled to learn the language, but I worked hard, I studied the little briefcase full of English words and their Spanish translations. The work paid off in the end, so I finally learned English and was able to talk with more people than just the people in my neighborhood, and the Mexican people in my class. I could talk to my teachers, the people who did not speak Spanish, and also, I had learned a new language in 6 months. There re some funny stories involved with my first year in school. For example, my mother has told me that as preparation, they had told me that school was a place for kids only. That it was a place where the parents left the kids alone and the kids learned.
Becoming a second English language learner is something I along with many Hispanics had to face. Learning was something that I was always interested in, but in order to start it was necessary to overcome my ignorance and learn English. My first memories of learning English include watching morning cartoons. It almost became instinct for me to mimic the words that I heard. To be honest Dora the Explorer, Barney, and the Sesame Street bunch were my first teachers. It is funny sometimes to ask my mom about my first day of school. Even in the face of an unknown and my lack of English I still ran with excitement into the classroom. My mom stood at the doorway with tears in her eyes as I when up to some students without ever turning back to look
As a child I was born into a Spanish speaking family, which made my first language Spanish. I began with the similar syllables as most babies do mamà, papà, and so on. Both of my parents are from different parts of Mexico which exposed me to a Spanish speaking environment and very little writing. I wrote and read poorly in Spanish. However, the language spoken by my peers outside my home was another. Being raised in Pomona, CA my community and school practiced wo different dialects of English.