When I was growing up my parents always insisted we speak Spanish at home. I’m grateful to them because I’m fluent in both Spanish and English now and I don’t have an accent in either language. (Except, of course, I speak Spanish fast and furiously and drop the s’s on the ends of my words, but that’s not important right now. =D)
The only-speak-Spanish-at home rule was pretty easy because my mom didn’t speak English. She still doesn’t. She understands, but she never worked outside of the home. My oh-so-Cubanaso dad would never permit it. So we spoke Spanish at home and my sisters and I speak Spanglish to each other – easily and fluently weaving in and out of both languages.
Now it falls to me to teach my own children my first language and I confess I’m quite the slacker. Eric speaks Spanish beautifully, but of course, it’s just so much easier to speak English at home. So we do. My kids understand and speak some Spanish, but I also encouraged them to take Spanish in school. It couldn’t hurt, right?
(This bilingual issue right here is why I am awed and amazed at how my Cuban American friend, Carrie has undertaken the difficult task of making sure her daughter is bilingual – read all about it on her delightful blog, Bilingual in the Boonies.)
This right here is a perfect representation of my Adam’s high school Spanish. Enjoy.
Muchas gracias. 😉