After reading Gloria Anzaldua's story How To Tame A Wild Tongue, I sat still for a minute. I wanted to allow the feelings and sense of purpose from the author to finish enveloping me. When first reading this story, I have to admit, I had some trouble spots to get over with all the Spanish and English dialogue intertwined. However, as I moved along in the story, my troubling spots became more intriguing. I wanted to learn more of the author's plight and her Chicano people. I felt great empathy for Ms. Anzaldua throughout the story. It must be extremely difficult and very frustrating to feel that you cannot be who you were intended to be because of language and cultural diversities. I felt bad for her when her own mother, "was mortified that she spoke English like a Mexican." Perhaps this was due to Spanish speaking people trying to "fit in" with American culture, disregarding the importance of their own dialect and cultural ways. Anzaldua felt lost and unidentifiable because there was no Chicano Spanish spoken around her in the outside world. Sad that it was not until 1965 that she felt that her people existed, due to Cesar Chavez and others gaining recognition. I thought this was awful. To have an event finally put your people on the map?
This story brought up a memory for me that until now, I never really gave much thought of. My brother's first wife was Mexican, and she lived in Texas her whole life until she moved to New Jersey with my brother after he got out of the Army. Her accent was mostly that of a southern accent, yet one could hear a Spanish accent as well. I wonder now years later how she must've felt during the time she lived up here in the northeast. The only time she would interact with another Spanish person is if she ran into one at the store. My brother says she mostly spoke Spanish to her mother, but still none of us up here spoke her comforting language. I took French in high school and some in college as the story recalls many American taking instead of Spanish, whose population was growing here, not French. I'm sure my sister-in-law felt like a fish out of water at times, not just because we didn't speak Spanish, but because New Jersey was not Texas. I give her a lot of credit for packing up her life and moving here. The move in itself was a cultural shock!
I will never feel the way Gloria Anzaldua felt. Maybe more of us should so changes can be made. Acceptance of all needs to be the norm, not acceptance of those who can conform.
This story brought up a memory for me that until now, I never really gave much thought of. My brother's first wife was Mexican, and she lived in Texas her whole life until she moved to New Jersey with my brother after he got out of the Army. Her accent was mostly that of a southern accent, yet one could hear a Spanish accent as well. I wonder now years later how she must've felt during the time she lived up here in the northeast. The only time she would interact with another Spanish person is if she ran into one at the store. My brother says she mostly spoke Spanish to her mother, but still none of us up here spoke her comforting language. I took French in high school and some in college as the story recalls many American taking instead of Spanish, whose population was growing here, not French. I'm sure my sister-in-law felt like a fish out of water at times, not just because we didn't speak Spanish, but because New Jersey was not Texas. I give her a lot of credit for packing up her life and moving here. The move in itself was a cultural shock!
I will never feel the way Gloria Anzaldua felt. Maybe more of us should so changes can be made. Acceptance of all needs to be the norm, not acceptance of those who can conform.
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