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Marco antonio solis joven bukis8/27/2023 Both sides regularly “cap” on the other, ni modo. I’ve always had two types of friends: the ones who speak Spanish who can tease but no more bullying and I have friends who are Mexicans, Latinos, and others from here. If you know me, you KNOW that absolutely nothing has changed, this part of me has always been front and center in both my personal and professional lives. I was a little girl and, from that moment on, I stopped caring what anyone said to me or thought about me wanting to promote my culture. I was starting to find my voice, to find the confidence, to find the pride in being able to walk both sides of the fence, to relate to anyone from the motherland, to relate to anyone like me from here, to know that I had double of everything: friends, music, family, opportunities, culture. It was respect after that, and they asked me to interpret for them with the teachers from time to time. That was the first time I had ever told anyone about the band and you better know that it wasn’t the last time LOL. They asked me how I knew the songs in Spanish and it all changed with them when I told them that my Dad had a band. That was the day that I was powerful, that day, I knew that I had something special that they did not: I was bilingual. Me being me, I gave them that look as if to say, “ now whatta you gotta say? ‘ora que?” And my big mouth said, “ at least I try to speak Spanish, you don’t even try to talk in English“. Turns out, I also KNEW the songs that came on in Spanish! Homegirls could NOT believe it and I shut them down that day. They were begging the teacher to change the radio station to Spanish radio. I was silently singing all of the songs that I was hearing and they kept on teasing me that I didn’t know Spanish. I concentrated on the songs I was listening to on the radio and I started to tune the kids out. So I went back to my seat and did just that. I told one of the adults that they were bothering me and she told me to try to ignore them and to concentrate on the radio, we were almost “home”. I remember one time we were either going to or coming back from swimming and I was on the bus with these “ mean kids” on every side of me, poking at me, pinching me, pulling my hair, telling me that I didn’t know Spanish and what was I doing there with them? I was trying to ignore them and I could feel the tears welling up in my eyes. We went on a lot of field trips and outings that summer. This is the classic experience we shared with kids like us all over the US. “ OMG you’ve NEVER been to Mexico?” More American than Mexican with these kids, and more Mexican than American than other kids in regular school. All I know is that, without a doubt, we were different for sure. I didn’t really know how these kids were with my siblings, I’m kind of glad I didn’t know or broncas would ensue. So here we were, with kids who were merciless, teased us about being from “here” and not knowing Spanish, well me, anyway. Back then, however, it was another story. Today, I think my parents were so progressive and I totally admire their vision for us, they knew that this experience would help us and it has. Looking back, they probably did it so that we could be immersed in our motherland tongue and perhaps learn how to understand and speak Spanish better. I’ve often wondered why my parents sent us to school with these kids. The Spanish words we knew were the very basic ones: leche, pan, buenos dias, etc. Remember, in my house, we did not grow up speaking Spanish. Summer School with the Mexicano Migrant Students. When I drove by this certain school the other day, my thoughts immediately flew to the year that we went to Summer School there. 52SlicesOfChingonaLife 52EssaysNextWave 6/52
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