My first attempt at writing in English was horrible. I had no idea what I was doing. All the strange symbols and rules only catalyzed confusion. Therefore, at the age of five I had made up my mind that English was just not for me. Eventually I would rethink that judgement, but at that point in my life all I had ever known was Spanish, and replacing it with English was something fundamentally challenging. I had just moved from Mexico to the United States, and that transition came with many different expectations. One was that I needed to write and communicate using a totally different language. The strange part was that I never really felt like I left Mexico. The tamales tasted the same and the people that lived around me looked and sounded the same. The only thing that was different was that the dominant language in my new society was English, and this was most evident at school. For when I sat down at my desk I learned in a different tongue, and more importantly that when I picked up that pencil I was no longer comfortable. I soon realized, however, that writing was to become the vehicle that drove my assimilation into this new system.
Strangely at home nothing had dramatically changed or reflected the culture shock that I was experiencing at the time. This created a big contrast in my young life, and it was almost like I was living in two distinct worlds. At home I experienced a reality rich in my own culture and dominant by my native tongue, while at school I faced a new and different culture that was personified by the difference in language. Driving down the street everything was writing in English. Most of the shows on the television were in English. However, at home everything was in Spanish. If the television was on it was probably tuned in to a Spanish speaking station. All the people I came into contact with at home spoke in Spanish. Every time we met someone the same question was asked, where are you from? The answer came in different forms like Michoacan, Jalisco, and Hidalgo, but it all meant the same thing. If I was planning to assimilate into this new country I was going to need to master the language, and my home was not the place where I would find help.
Help would come from within myself. I started to enthrall myself in my new language, and as a youthful kid this was not a difficult thing to do. I watched cartoons in English instead of my prefered Spanish, and read all the books I could get my hands on. The one thing that aided me the most, however, was writing. Something about writing called out to me. The way you could write about anything that crossed your mind captivated me as a young child. I would spend countless hours writing about random thoughts and ideas. Creating stories for my own amusement. At first most of my pieces made no grammatical sense, but as I kept writing my stories became better and better. The writing I did for recreation would later prove fruitful at school, for my understanding of the language that was at first daunting became more and more manageable.
Once I took on this new hobby of writing my grasp of the English language became infinitely better. Moreover, one of the things I enjoyed most doing in elementary school was writing short stories. I remember jumping at any chance I had to write tales about talking horses and invisible bridges that had gnomes living underneath them. Second grade was when this passion of was truly recognized and solidified by someone I considered a mentor. Mr.Yock, my second grade teacher, greatly encouraged my zeal for writing. He truly cared about my development as a student, and that left an impression on me that has lasted till this day. I recall vividly the time he was so impressed with one of my pieces that he read it out loud to the entire class. This small gesture meant the world to me at the time, and solidified my love of not only writing but of learning in general. This is when writing became more than just a hobby, but something that was crucial to my development as a student and person. After this defining experience I started to put more time in developing my writing ability.
My writing style at the beginning was unoriginal. I imitated the style and techniques of authors that I enjoyed reading. I was still not fully comfortable with the language, so mimicking writing methods utilized by proven writers made me feel more confident in my pieces. They were like a security blanket to my insecurities as a writer. For example, one author I really took a liking to is John Green the very free-flowing ambiance that his writing had was something I tried to add into my work. Moreover, his writing was very comical, and easy to read, I took this and also applied it to my own writing. For a time a lot of my writing had a comical and fun mood. This, however, did not last for as I became more affluent at English I started to move away from mimicking other authors, and trying to find my own style of writing. Parallel with this development as a writer was my assimilation into the American culture.
As I became more original as a writer I also became more of an individual within my new adopted culture in the United States. All the things that confused me and were foreign were now commonplace and familiar. Writing gave me a medium in which to reflect about my own assimilation into American society. During high school much of what I wrote dealt with social issues that I felt passionate about. I wrote about American history and its relationship with the history of Native Americans. I wrote about great American authors like F. Scott Fitzgerald and Toni Morrison. All these topics made feel closer to the culture I once felt so far apart from. These subjects revealed to me the social consciousness that permeates American society. The innuendos and ideologies that are riddled through the story of America. Through writing I was able, to a small degree, add on to the continuous tale of this country. Thus, catalyzing in me a full incorporation of the American aesthetic.
In college, my writing now faces a different challenge. All those years I spent reading and writing my way into the American culture had an adverse effect on the part of me that remains Latino. Part of my development as a writer, and person, is trying to find factors that make me an individual. Now that I have become a part of the social discussion I need to find a way to contribute something unique and add on to the communal think tank. I believe that the culture I arrived to this country with and the perspective that it provides me with is where I want to take my writing. However, just as I did with the American culture I find myself very detached from the ideas and values I use to hold. Nonetheless, just like writing was a vehicle to my understanding of American values so will it lead me to a better grasp of Latino ideas and culture.
I no longer feel the same doubt I once felt picking up the pen. Even now as I’m taking a similar journey into the Latino aesthetic I go at it with a new confidence. A new found respect for the art of writing and its ability to connect me with a language and more so with an entire culture. My development as a writer runs in parallel with the my Americanization through public education. As I became more in tune with my visions of writing I also became more connected with american culture. Now as I attempt to marry two sides of me that I saw as completely apart, I can say with full confidence that writing will play a crucial role in that process. Writing is a vehicle of understanding.
