Emily Crighton
Editor-in-Chief
Sunday night I sat in front of my computer screen with a Spanish textbook beside me, desperately trying to analyze “Cantar de Mio Cid,” the oldest preserved Castilian epic poem. Even in my seventh year of Spanish, I grapple with finding meanings in writing that aren’t blatantly obvious. I questioned for the millionth time why I was still studying Spanish. So, I took some time to remind myself just what I’m learning the language for.
Learning another language changes the way I view the world. The way that language shapes thought totally blows my mind. My favorite example that immediately comes to mind is the concept of love. In English we love our dogs and sleeping in on the weekends. Interestingly enough, we use the same word to express feelings for our significant others.
In Spanish, love is not used in the same way. The word amar is reserved for those you really, passionately care for. I feel as if the exclusivity of the word amar gives a new depth and importance to the word that seems lost in the English language. I love you baby, but hey, I also love grilled cheese sandwiches.
Learning a new language exposes me to cultures I otherwise may have never been exposed to. I’m a firm believer that you can’t learn a language without learning about the culture that comes along with it. In my Spanish classes, I often find myself jealous of my Hispanic classmates because I want so badly to be a part of the vibrant and complex culture I’m learning about. Every day I learn that different is beautiful, and diversity is not something to be afraid of. This is a lesson I wish so many others would take the time to learn and truly understand.
My ability to speak another language, however imperfect my grammar, connects me to millions of other human beings on a level that I would otherwise be incapable of reaching. I remember the first time I used Spanish outside of the classroom or the home. I was a teenager working in a frozen yogurt shop in Mountain Home, Idaho.
There is a relatively large Hispanic population in my hometown, and it is not out of the ordinary for a family to come in and for the children, who learn English at school, to order for the entire family. In this particular instance, a mother was attempting to point out to me which flavor she wanted. She turned to her child and began explaining which one she was asking for when I heard a familiar word, fresas, the Spanish word for strawberries. So, in Spanish and with an unsure voice, I asked her if she wanted the strawberry ice cream. Yes, that was the one.
This seems like such a tiny, insignificant moment; but it’s a moment I still think about. It reminds me on a small and personal scale why I am learning a second language. My decision to learn Spanish resulted in an understanding between two people and a problem being solved.
This is why I continue to learn Spanish.
