Zoe Marie Martinez Nunez
English 11000
Professor Jason Lobell
October 1, 2023
What I’m proud of about this essay is the vocabulary I used like articulation, linguistic perplexity, daunting, etc. I’m also
proud of how I incorporated and narrated 4–5 events relevant to my journey with the English language.
I would like my parents to read my essay, especially my dad. I believe that they should both know my
side of the story because they thought that developing English as a second language wasn’t that easy. My audience is people who might have had to learn English as a
second language at a young age and didn’t have enough spoken practice, such as reading and speaking resulting in having an accent and other difficulties pronouncing
words.
The literary techniques I used in this essay were dialogue, imagery, simile, and personification.
The essay connects to one of the objectives of this class, which is “examining how attitudes towards linguistic standards empower and oppress language users.” This essay forced me to consider how language standards influenced me. They had a greater impact on me when I came to New York and had to communicate with others in English, which wasn’t an easy task considering the difficulties I had with it.
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It was a beautiful sunny day. While riding in the car I was looking at the usual palm trees I’d seen growing up, but I was passing by roads I had never seen before. I was six years old at the time, and my dad, my aunt, and other family members and I were traveling to the airport. I remember being excited since it was the first time I would be in such a place. I wasn’t
leaving the country, but I was there to meet my aunt and cousins. I’m referring to my dad’s half-sister and her children. They traveled from Alaska to the Dominican Republic to visit. I was not familiar with my dad’s side of the family and I still am. I couldn’t even think he had
another sister somewhere, so it was the first time I met her and my cousins who were around my age. “Zoe, háblales en inglés.” My father occasionally said on our way there. He
encouraged me to practice my English wherever and whenever I could, and for him, this was a great opportunity for me to do so. My aunt greeted me in Spanish when she saw me for the first time, and I returned her gesture. Then my cousins said hello to me… in ENGLISH! I also remember them saying something else to me, but I couldn’t understand it. I just recognized the typical “Hi, how are you?” but apart from that…nothing. I was confused and I didn’t know what to do. I was thinking about my response, but it was an overwhelming and daunting task for a kid who was just starting to recognize the language. The weight of the
unknown language, along with the strain of communicating properly with my new relatives, made me feel both excited and anxious. In a split second, I heard myself babbling, urgently trying to imitate their accents, but all I managed to say was a tangle of gibberish. Each utterance that escaped my mouth felt unclear, like an odd puzzle piece. My relatives’
attempts to understand the incomprehensible sounds that came out of my lips paralleled my struggle to bridge the linguistic gap, and I could see the perplexed looks on their faces. As I struggled with the complexity of the language and my desire to connect with my new family, I felt vulnerable and frustrated. Every time I come to that memory, I can’t help but cringe every time it comes to mind. But as I grew older, my issues with speaking English would
bother me even more.
I was enrolled in a private school in the province of Puerto Plata, located in the Dominican Republic. It was among the most expensive schools in the region, and I was able to attend thanks to a scholarship offered by the school because my mother had worked there for several years as a Spanish teacher. The school’s mission was to promote an academic program based on the constructivism theory in both English and Spanish, focused on developing individuals with analytical and entrepreneurial skills. That’s where I began my journey of learning to read, write, and speak English. I was fortunate to have had the opportunity to learn from native speakers, a unique advantage that enriched my language education. However, there was a persistent issue that loomed anytime the opportunity to read aloud or engage in oral discourse presented itself. While my writing abilities were strong, the change from written to verbal communication offered a new set of challenges. Speaking
English needed not just a pure comprehension of the language but also mastery of the art of articulation, intonation, and fluency.
When I was ten years old and in fifth grade, the teacher would choose a few novels for all of us to read together over the school year, and she would determine which student would read at random. If I was chosen to read, I would hide in the back to avoid being noticed by the teacher. I did, however, read aloud when the teacher called my name since I didn’t want to be naughty. I felt all the eyes on me, even though everyone was focused on the book. It became apparent that I was embarking on a challenging linguistic journey. With each page turned, many times, my teacher found herself gently guiding me through the maze of words. It was not an occasional occurrence but a frequent necessity, as she patiently pointed out my errors and helped me navigate the tangled pronunciation and enunciation of countless words. Now that I think about it, it wasn’t that bad; it was just to fix the mistakes so I could pronounce the words correctly in the future, but I despised it to such an extent that I felt stupid.
My struggle with pronouncing wouldn’t affect me that much when I started middle school to the end of my sophomore year of high school. In August 2021, I expected to return
to school in person after two years of quarantine. However, my father had other plans. I was struck by the news that he wanted me and my sister to move to New York with him and
continue school there. Although I intended to go to college in the state after graduating from high school, I wasn’t interested in going to a high school there. In reality, I wanted to graduate alongside my friends in the Dominican Republic. My mother wasn’t convinced either, but that was my father’s wish. She finally convinced me to go, since a better future awaited me there.
In September, I started my junior year and I was very nervous. “Ponte a practicar el inglés antes de tu venir para acá.” My father’s words resonated in my head. I wish I had
listened to him back then because my English wasn’t in its best shape. Before entering school, the high school I was enrolled in, did a “Summer Bridge” where students would see and meet each other after quarantine before classes started. That day, I met a girl during Summer Bridge, who was going to be my classmate and I started to talk to her on our first day of school. That day stands out in my mind as a clear reminder of the complexities that language may convey. I was having a chat with her, anxious to express my opinions about someone, but I couldn’t remember who that person was. It was a bizarre period of grammatical confusion in which I found myself wrestling with the basic yet perplexing pronouns she,’ ‘he,’ ‘him,’ and ‘her.’ They whirled in my memory, elusive and ever-changing, eluding my grip as I tried to piece together the story. The words stumbled from my tongue in a disconnected manner as I talked, and I couldn’t stop the unsettling stammering that had gripped me. It was as if the source of language that I had cultivated over the previous 14 years had abruptly dried up, leaving me in a state of linguistic perplexity.
Over time, my journey with English led to a remarkable transformation in my enunciation and overall language proficiency, a transformation that did not go unnoticed by those around me. Professors and classmates, who had witnessed my linguistic growth, often commented on the noticeable improvements in my English pronunciation and fluency. A significant moment that highlighted my progress occurred during a summer job when one of my coworkers extended a heartfelt compliment. She expressed her genuine belief that I had been born in the United States based on how well I spoke, something that took me by surprise. When I informed her that I had been living in the country for just two years, she was surprised. Her compliment on my rapid language development filled me with pride. This experience served as a reminder of the distance I had traveled on my linguistic journey. From the days of stuttering and garbled words to the present, I found myself more fluent and confident in speaking, although the accent is noticeable sometimes. Despite my progress, I still get confused between pronouns. It’s like they’re playing an ongoing game of hide-and-seek with me, and I’m perpetually ‘it.’
