Language, Growing Up Mixed-Ish

Hola, Salut, Hello…

Spanish, French and English…

My parents met in college in La Habana, Cuba. In love, they got married and moved to Burkina Faso where I was born. My mother didn’t speak a word of French. For almost 5 years after my birth, my mother would only speak to me in Spanish. I however responded in French. I did not care to speak Spanish because I saw it as an handicap. The kids around me would only speak French, so why should I learn a complete different language than them? I wanted to be understood by my peers, not only my parents. What helped me, is that my dad would choose to speak French and my mother Spanish. I was given the ability to learn both languages.

French is considered the language of love. Well, not to me. I enjoyed listening to hispanic music. It was played when we were cleaning the house. It was also played at parties, my parents had many college friends that lived around us that enjoyed salsa. I was surrounded by latinos. Years later, I was able to share a side of me through music. I realized that in a group, you should have some value to add to your friends; and mine was Bachata, Reggaeton and Salsa. I would sit for hours in front of my computer, and download music. I was happy to at least bring people together with music, like my parents did when I was younger (they still do to this day). I remember translating songs, telenovelas and messages to my friends. I was able to help the people around me because of that “extra” I had in my veins through birth. I was and still am proud of it.

I did unfortunately speak Spanish in front of my friends so they couldn’t understand me. It was more of a “Let me say this in Spanish before I offend you” than anything else. Some of my friends would probably say that I was speaking about them, and I definitely was. I just didn’t have the courage to say it in French because it would have sounded rude. I wanted to be integrated in a group, that instead of being upfront, I was hiding behind my words. Spanish was an escape to the world for me to hide my emotions.

French on the other hand, I liked it because it was how I communicated outside of my house. I could decide to enter a world shared with everyone else by speaking the same language; and as I said previously, I really wanted to be part of a group. I knew I was different, yet I wanted to be like everyone else. I now know that I was meant to stand out. I was meant to help travelers understand each other when they couldn’t communicate because of a language difference. I was meant to connect with more than one group of people. I was meant to be Myself. I hope that more people would learn to speak at least a second language. It is good for the brain, but also your mental and emotional health. It makes you more relatable to a vast majority of the world. It helps you see the world in a new light.

“Make Love, Not Hate. Stop F.N “ in French