A Strange Accent

Most of you know that I am Hispanic. Meaning my parents are Mexican but I was born in America. Growing up, Spanish was the only language that we spoke at home. It wasn’t until I entered grade school where I learned how to speak English. Surprisingly, I picked up English very quickly. So quickly that by first grade I was enrolled in a spelling contest.

Anyways, growing in a Mexican home doesn’t just mean that the language was different but so was the culture. What was culturally acceptable with my friends at school might not be in my home. I had to learn fairly quickly what was acceptable and what wasn’t, especially because discipline within my home was much harsher than my friends’.

As I got older and spent more time at school, and many many years later, in college, I began losing the accent I grew up with when speaking Spanish. On the flip side, most of my English speaking friends would tell me that my English had a slight accent to it as well. If you were to ask me, I can’t tell at all. But all of these comments and realizations increasingly made me become more embarrassed. I was embarrassed to not understand American cultural references and to speak Spanish at family gatherings. I wanted to be proud of my heritage, but it became so easy to be confused. With it, my identity was questioned. Who am I? Where do I come from? Is it something to be proud of? Should I avoid speaking Spanish because it was now easier for me to speak English?

I visited Mexico earlier this year and my siblings noted that my accent was not the traditionally Mexican accent only making my embarrassment and insecurities much worse. (Disclaimer: it was not their intention at all) I wanted to excel in both languages but I struggled either way.

Yet, a few months later, I heard someone tell me in Spanish “God loves you with that strange accent of yours”. It stunned me so deeply because I never thought that a flaw like that could be lovable. In fact, it was something to hide and not to be proud of. But there was such a clear realization that God placed me here, in America, with a Hispanic background for a very intentional reason. I speak two languages, albeit not perfectly, but I can communicate with both cultures and understand them. Even if I do have a strange accent. Even if people make fun of me for it or it is brought up in conversation. I can’t help it and I should not be ashamed of it.

So, maybe you find yourself in a similar situation. Maybe it’s not a cultural difference but a social-economical one. Maybe it’s now living in a different state where things are done differently. Maybe it’s learning to love someone vastly different from what you’re used to. Maybe it’s struggling to be proud of your family or where you come from. All of those things that we find and label of ourselves as flaws are seen by God as absolutely lovable. He is peering at us with adoration because of those differences and says proudly This is my beloved daughter… my beloved son.

And with those flaws, we are meant to make a change for the good.

Praying for you always <3