“Accents” by Ana Portillo

I remember

After playing outside on a summer day, while eating popsicles on our front steps,

My mom telling me a tongue-twister in Spanish with lots of r’s in it

That she had learned when she was a kid

And the bizarre meaning of that sing-song saying

That she’d always sing to me whenever I got hurt to make me feel better,

That her mom sang to her

I remember

Watching rented DVDs with my siblings of a show that’d teach us Spanish when we were younger

It was a pretty good show

Unfortunately, one of the only parts I remember clearly now

Is the song “La Cucaracha” (‘The Cockroach’), ha ha

I remember

My siblings and I flipping through small squares of printed-out pages we put together,

Each booklet a different color

We were trying to learn the colors in Spanish, and I’d mix some up with another,

They didn’t create a new color when I mixed them

‘The words for Orange and Yellow both start with A

‘They’re long words; what do you mean they aren’t the same?!’

I remember

Back when I was really little,

After I figured out I could finally understand

What my older sister and parents were saying through spelled-out words, one letter at a time,

I told them so with a grin,

Something along the lines of ‘I know what you said.’

I remember looking up at my mom laughing near the counter

That I could still walk under without hitting my head

She said how they’d have to be more careful,

Thanks to my newfound power

I remember feeling proud of myself

And smiling.

I remember

Getting the hang of Spanish 1

And after listening to how my parents would sometimes change languages,

It was like a listening test I wasn’t being graded on

I realized how I could understand (mostly) what they had said.

I repeated what I thought I heard back to them in English to check my answers

‘I know what you said’

They smiled at me

And I smiled back.

I never thought my parents had an accent when I was younger for quite some time, which makes sense

But the thing is, having an accent is not a bad thing

When you think about it, everyone has an accent

I don’t exactly remember what question I asked my dad, but it was related to accents in some way

My dad’s response was that he wasn’t embarrassed or anything about having ‘an accent’

Because it means that he studied hard and learned another language,

And I think that is simply cool.

Most of my family that lives in Guatemala and Honduras speaks English too

But I’ve still wanted to be fluent for pretty much as long as I can remember

So I could understand when they don’t.

I want to understand the stories they told

Because these people in my life are important to me

I still want to learn

However, after studying in school and on my own,

When I’d try to follow conversations

I’d still feel like I barely knew anything, besides a few words I’d catch here and there

My mind would go blank

I’d remember there’s still so much to learn

I know practicing really does make ‘better’

I just need to speak

But…

I wish I wouldn’t feel weird practicing Spanish in public.

What am I afraid of?

People thinking worse of me?

I shouldn’t be.

Pero lo quiero intentar.

(Which means ‘But I want to try.’)