My life, my voice, my dreams, my opinions

I’m sorry. Wait… Forget that. I’m not sorry.

I’m not sorry that I don’t know something I was never taught.

It’s funny, people seem to think that fluency in a language runs in the family as surely as blood. But in the same way that adoption is now a thing, that’s not always true you see. Because even though my mother and father were both born in Haiti and are native Haitian Creole speakers, I’m not.

How’s that possible?

Because my parents were fully fluent in English, the dominant language of the country I was born and raised in, by the time I was born. And ever since I’ve been surrounded by nothing but English. It’s all they ever talked to me in. It’s all I was ever taught and yet people give me grief for it.

My relatives can’t believe it, that I don’t understand anything.

They say, “Well your sisters understand? Why don’t you?”

There’s an 8-12 year age gap between my sisters and I. And when they were raised, my parents still spoke a lot of creole. Because they were still learning English.

My friends who speak their own heritage languages, usually Spanish, also give me grief for it. I’ve literally been told, “You’re a disgrace. How is it possible that you’re more fluent in Spanish than your family’s language?” (Nvm that part of my family speaks Spanish natively but…)

Oh I don’t know.

Maybe because I was forced to learn Spanish in school.

Maybe because… I was taught Spanish?

Maybe because my parents who came to this country and were forced to learn this horribly difficult tongue thought it would be better for me to just learn English because that’s the kind of society we live in. Where English is pushed and heritage languages are pushed to the back burner.

And it’s horrible. And I hate it. But I won’t feel guilty anymore for a situation I’m a victim of, not the criminal.

I am learning Haitian Creole. I am trying.

My sisters are all at varying degrees and none of them are putting in any work to improve. They’re content with whatever level they naturally were raised into. They never had to learn anything, and they’re not learning now, but I am.

I put in time.

And time.

And time.

And all I ever get is backlash from my distant family. Because all they see is that I’m the only one they can’t talk to easily.

I asked it once and I’ll ask it again, why are you bashing people who can’t speak their heritage language?

Stop. Giving. Us. Grief. When. We. Are. Trying.

Stop laughing at us.

Stop judging us.

Stop making us feel bad for something we had no control over.

Of course I’d love to speak to my mother in her native tongue. Of course I’d love to connect with distant cousins and relatives, and I will. When I can. When I learn. But mocking me is not helping.

Don’t pretend like being raised to speak a language is as easy as putting in the work to learn it. And I say that because the main people talking are the same people who only know the foreign languages they were raised to speak! Shut. Your. Mouth. Hmu when your french is past elementary level.

Louisiana seafood

that’ll find different ways to tell me he loves me.

that’ll embrace my wicked oddness.. because that’s the reason he loves me anyway.