Impact of Language
Impact of Language When I was a child, I didn’t understand the importance of language; although, I spoke Spanish as my primary language, and English as a secondary; I was too naive to value the ability to speak multiple languages. I took pride in being Mexican, yet I was unable to speak the proper Spanish. It wasn’t until my teenage years, that I became aware through an embarrassing incident that helped me realize I was a terrible Spanish speaker and writer. Eventually, because of the instructor’s remarks to my paper, he made me cognizant that my Spanish speaking skills were inadequate in general. I felt the need to change the Spanish foundation I was accustomed too; I became motivated to prove to my instructor, that I was capable of learning the proper Spanish and in the process I learned the power of language. My parents moved to California during their teenage years. Despite the fact that they had moved here since the early eighties, they spoke improper Spanish known as “slang.” Eventually, throughout the years, slang is what I learned as the correct form of Spanish; although, language had no meaningful significance to me, to communicate and get my point across was all that mattered. I was raised in a typical Mexican home where all we spoke was Spanish. We lived in the city of Compton on the border of Paramount
It was later on in high school that I experienced a life changing event that ultimately opened my eyes to the real truth of my Spanish composition. As I remember, it was Monday morning the third week of school, and I woke up for school at eight a.m. sharp; all I could think of was “I’m late.” It took me approximately five minutes to brush my teeth and get dressed and run to school. The distance from my house to the school was about a twenty minute walk; as I started to sprint I looked up at the sky, I knew it was bound to rain. As I stopped at a red light, I could hear the crackle of the thunderstorm become louder, all of a sudden it began to start
It was later on in high school that I experienced a life changing event that ultimately opened my eyes to the real truth of my Spanish composition. As I remember, it was Monday morning the third week of school, and I woke up for school at eight a.m. sharp; all I could think of was “I’m late.” It took me approximately five minutes to brush my teeth and get dressed and run to school. The distance from my house to the school was about a twenty minute walk; as I started to sprint I looked up at the sky, I knew it was bound to rain. As I stopped at a red light, I could hear the crackle of the thunderstorm become louder, all of a sudden it began to start