Liliana “Lily” Saracay, just three years old, found herself at the crossroads of two cultures and languages, a predicament many U.S.-born children of immigrant parents face today.
Living in Dallas, where more than 40% of the population identifies as Latino, Lily’s initial confusion stemmed from the language spoken at home versus that at her grandmother’s house.
With her parents primarily communicating with her in English, Lily eventually gravitated toward that language, leaving Spanish in the background.
Now at ten years old, while she understands some Spanish, she communicates exclusively in English.
“Spanish is complicated,” Lily remarked, even as she enjoys ranchera music during car rides with her mother and heavy metal tunes with her father.
The challenge of maintaining bilingualism has grown alongside a broader cultural and political landscape that often sidelines the Spanish language.
As the Trump administration intensified immigration enforcement, there have been heightened concerns surrounding language as a marker of identity.
A recent request from the Department of Homeland Security aimed to allow questioning of individuals who speak Spanish, suggesting that such language use could imply illegal residency.
In a country where 62 million Hispanics reside, a significant portion faces a generational conflict regarding the use of Spanish, with 47% classified as first-generation—born to immigrant parents in the U.S.—and 17% as second-generation.
Andrew Hurie, a professor specializing in multicultural education at the University of Wisconsin–Whitewater, emphasizes the societal expectations for Hispanic youth to conform to Anglo-American culture.
He highlights the notion that the push for English to become the official language of the United States reinforces assimilation efforts, thereby promoting the idea that multilingualism does not serve civic interests.
Such policies may collectively contribute to the declining use of Spanish among younger generations.
Ricardo Stanton, a sociologist from Stanford, asserts that English is perceived as a global language that underscores a power dynamic.
From Kenya to Mexico and beyond, learning English is often viewed as a necessity for advancement.
In the U.S., the educational system tends to prioritize English, inadvertently neglecting the value of multilingualism.
According to Every Texan, approximately 2.4 million children in Texas—one in four—have at least one parent who is an immigrant.
This environment often leaves children straddling two languages and feeling caught between distinct cultural identities.
The Saracay family illustrates the ongoing struggle families face to adopt and preserve their primary language and cultural heritage.
Norma Saracay, Lily’s mother, grew up in a bilingual household where Spanish was essential for communicating with her mother, María García, a Durango native who cares for her granddaughters while Norma works.
Despite being born in Dallas, Norma continued to speak Spanish fluently, ensuring her children connect with their cultural roots.
In contrast, her husband, Alejandro, an Army serviceman deployed during Lily’s early years, primarily communicates in English due to reservations about his Spanish proficiency.
“My husband doesn’t like how he sounds speaking Spanish,” explains Norma.
This dynamic often reflects a broader trend among immigrant families, where apprehensions regarding language skills can lead to prioritizing English.
Young Hispanics navigating their identity within the U.S. face challenges as they attempt to hold onto their cultural heritage.
Alvin Manrique, a 31-year-old restaurant manager born in Dallas to Mexican parents, expresses his feelings of disconnection: “I feel like I’m not from here or there.”
He emphasizes the internal conflict many experience regarding their identities, as those born in America to immigrant families are often labeled differently depending on their location.
“I kept Spanish because it’s where our roots are; it’s our culture,” Alvin states, affirming his pride in his dual identity.
In Alejandro’s case, he represents a rising incidence of Hispanic families in which no members speak Spanish.
Having grown up in a household that prioritized English, he now works to instill the importance of Spanish in his daughters.
“Frijol, arroz, amarillo,” Lily practices, under the helpful guidance of her grandmother.
García highlights her desire for her granddaughters to be able to converse in Spanish, particularly during family trips to Mexico.
The role of family involvement is critical in ensuring that the Spanish language persists in future generations.
Norma creatively integrates cultural lessons through films like Coco, teaching her daughters about customs such as Día de Muertos, which honors deceased loved ones.
Every year on November 2, the family visits the cemetery, sharing stories and memories of Norma’s late father and brother.
“As a mother,” Norma insists, “it’s my duty to do everything I can so my daughters embrace Spanish and Mexican cultural traditions.”
Luis Urrieta, a cultural studies professor at the University of Texas at Austin, advises against imposing language learning.
Instead, he advocates for natural integration of Spanish into family relationships and community involvement.
He recalls the impact of being encouraged to read the newspaper in Spanish by his father, which he looks back on fondly as foundational to his professional development.
Finding a middle ground, Alvin Manrique’s father, Hector, embraces a more dynamic view of identity.
“My WhatsApp header says: ‘Yes, I’m from here, and I’m from there,’” Hector shares, reflecting on his dual nationality after becoming a U.S. citizen.
He believes that one can belong to both cultures without losing touch with either.
Alvin’s mother, Laura, encourages her children to embrace their bilingualism, reminding them to speak Spanish without fear or shame.
“You should never be afraid or ashamed to speak Spanish in public,” she asserts, valuing the cultural richness that comes with bilingualism.
At the forefront of this cultural conversation, Urrieta seeks to change the narrative surrounding bilingualism among his students.
“I tell my students: ‘You are from here and from there. And it’s not Spanish or English. It’s Spanish and English,’” he emphasizes, advocating for pride in both heritages.
As generations collide and cultural exchanges continue to evolve, the preservation of the Spanish language within families like the Saracays highlights the complexities of identity formation in a modern America.
image source from：dallasnews
