In The Community
I remember one of my earliest memories of attending school as a second-grader in the United States like it was yesterday: I was barely starting to understand the English language and was very shy about speaking it. At this point, I was still in Spanish-language classes but on this particular day our homeroom teacher was out and in her place we were taught by an English dominant teacher. I remember a huge sign that sat near her desk that read, “I want the restroom".
If you wanted to go to the restroom you had to read the sign in English. As a shy, Spanish-speaking student, I put my hand up but could not bring myself to read the sign even though she was persistent in mouthing the words while pointing at the sign.
In that moment I felt ashamed of not knowing English, of not being able to verbalize a basic necessity, and felt as though I rather hold it in to avoid my teacher’s glaring eyes as she demanded I repeat after her.
This memory still makes me shudder and makes me realize how often our experience as Spanish speakers was not one of pride but rather one we felt the need to disguise to survive.
There’s a video trend on TikTok that asks, “What’s classy if you’re rich but trashy if you’re poor?”
Speaking multiple languages is one of these things. The idea that if your child can speak multiple languages means you have afforded them the opportunity of a better life. Yet immigrants are asked that they assimilate, be stripped of their culture, their traditions, and their native languages.
We’ve seen high-profile Latine individuals who go on to achieve great things only to be asked, why don’t you speak Spanish? It’s as if their Latinidad is only valid if they speak Spanish. They fail to realize that the same system that asks why they don’t speak the language also stripped them of the opportunity to embrace their native tongue.
In states like Texas, New Mexico, and the rest of the Southwest, young students grew up being punished or even being beat for speaking Spanish in classrooms. To assimilate and provide what they thought was a better life for their children, parents would avoid speaking the language altogether. This resulted in many Latinos who do not speak the language even though they are only second or third generation.
So when we wonder why our fellow Latinos don’t speak Spanish, we must choose not to shame them. For many, assimilation was forced upon them, giving them no other option. It’s time to put our misconceptions about the Latino community behind us and realize that language does not define whether you are worthy of being considered Latino or not.
There are enough issues that we face as a community, and punishing Latinos for not speaking their native tongue does nothing but exclude members of it. It’s time to recognize the systemic inequalities that continue to plague our community, the same inequalities that perpetuated the erasure of Spanish from our upbringing.
How Important is it to Speak Spanish as a Latino? New Findings Revealed
The question of whether the ability to speak Spanish fluently has any bearing on the legitimacy of Latino identity has long been a topic of contention in the U.S. Latino community. While a substantial majority of Latinos don't consider language proficiency a prerequisite for Latino identity, a recent Pew Research Center report found that regardless, many believe future generations of Latinos should retain the ability to speak Spanish.
The report focused on the perspectives and experiences of U.S. Latinos and the Spanish language. The study also revealed what too many second-generation and beyond Latinos know all too well - that a substantial portion of Latinos who don't speak Spanish proficiently, particularly among younger demographics, have been on the receiving end of criticism from fellow Latinos.
According to the report's findings, while 75% of the respondents say they can have a conversation fairly well in Spanish, another 78% of the respondents don't consider speaking Spanish an indispensable element of their Latino identity. In an interview with USA Today, Laura Muñoz, an assistant professor specializing in History and Ethnic Studies at the University of Nebraska-Lincoln, explains this divergence, saying, "There's a desire to maintain the language but a recognition that not all of us speak the language, so what are you going to do? Disqualify those people from participation?"
But that's exactly what some Latinos do when they criticize non-Spanish-speaking Latinos while readily using the term "no sabo" to describe Latinos who don't speak Spanish. The term is often used as an insult or with negative connotations, but recently, non-Spanish-speaking Latinos have been pushing back and embracing their status as "no sabo" kids as a way of taking back their story and their experiences.
@jaimunoz8 No sabo olympics continued #mexicantiktok #nosabo
Why Do Some Latinos Not Speak Spanish?
Losing language proficiency in the United States corresponds with generational growth among immigrant families. It's typical for the children, grandchildren, and great-grandchildren of immigrants to lose their native languages and customs. Typically, the second generation becomes bilingual, while the third generation primarily adopts English as their primary language.
Discrimination often played a role in the erosion of Spanish within Latino families.
Efforts to suppress non-English languages, such as English literacy tests for voting and corporal punishment in public schools for Spanish-speaking children, were pervasive, particularly in the Southwest region of the United States. Spanish-language bias and discrimination persist despite Spanish continuing to influence American pop culture in areas like advertising, music, and film. A 2018 Pew report reported that approximately 22% of respondents reported experiencing criticism for speaking Spanish in public.
The Future of Bilingualism
Although the majority of Latinos don't equate Spanish proficiency with identity, there remains a strong appreciation for the language's importance. While the Pew report found that about two-thirds of the respondents consider it very or extremely important for future generations to speak Spanish, the desire to be bilingual diminishes as assimilation progresses. Of the survey respondents, Foreign-born Latinos, at 78%, place greater importance on future generations retaining Spanish proficiency compared to 51% of U.S.-born Latinos. Among U.S.-born Latinos, the importance of Spanish proficiency decreases from 62% among second-generation Latinos to 32% among those of the third generation or higher.
Ultimately, attitudes in the U.S. towards bilingualism will have to shift in order for language preservation and bilingualism or multilingualism to be considered culturally important. According to the U.S. Census Bureau, only 20% of Americans can converse in two or more languages compared with 56% of Europeans. Initiatives such as dual-language programs, which have been increasingly implemented in U.S. schools due to their positive impact on student performance, offer hope for a cultural shift.
Additionally, heritage learning programs such as Spanish Sin Pena are tailored for Latinos raised in bilingual households who want to learn Spanish or improve their proficiency and, as the name implies, wish to do so in a judgment-free space. These programs can effectively serve to instill pride in their language and cultural heritage.
The status of Spanish within the Latino identity is a multifaceted issue, reflecting the complex interplay of linguistic heritage, generational shifts, historical discrimination, and contemporary challenges. As the Latino community navigates these dynamics, efforts to preserve and promote Spanish language proficiency in future generations continue to evolve, as does the identity of Latino itself.
Around the world, being able to speak multiple languages is usually considered a plus – a skill that connects different cultures and perspectives. But for many Latinos in the U.S., this 'advantage' has sometimes been a double-edged sword.
Throughout the latter part of the 20th century, the phenomenon of being "byelingual" arose. This term captures the essence of individuals who, while having a foundation in two languages (in this case, English and Spanish), often grapple with elements from both. It's not just about forgetting a word here or there; it's about juggling two cultural identities and sometimes feeling like you don’t fully belong to either.
Back in the day, especially during the '80s and '90s, many Latino parents had a tough choice: Teach their kids Spanish, the language of their roots, or focus on English to fit in better in the U.S. and oftentimes, be a smaller target for racism and racist English-only policies. For various socio-political reasons, including immigration reforms and a charged racial climate post the Civil Rights era, many immigrant parents opted not to teach their children their native tongue.
This choice, although made with the children's best interests at heart, often stemmed from a fear of ostracization and a desire to shield their kids from the pervasive racism of the time.
Fast forward to now, and there's a twist. Many first and second-generation Latinos find themselves estranged from a significant part of their heritage. As a result, many face criticism, even from within their own community, for not mastering Spanish. They're caught in a sort of linguistic limbo. And there's even a cheeky, and often malicious term for it: "no sabo.”
@orangesheepsam #nosabo #nosabokid #parati #foryoupage #fypシ #mexicantiktok #mixedgirl #growuphispanic #momsoftiktok #daughtersoftiktok
On the surface, it might seem like the term is a harmless slang or a joke, but words have weight. By using "no sabo," the term is often used as a way of denigrating someone for not having a skill that they might have had no control over learning in the first place. This term creates an "us vs. them" divide in our own community, making some feel left out or 'less than.' At its core, it's a form of gatekeeping, telling people they aren't "Latino enough" based on language alone.
But here's the thing: Being Latino isn't just about speaking Spanish. At the heart of this issue lies the complex nature of Latino and Latine identity in the U.S. The expectation that every Latino should be fluent in Spanish ignores the vast cultural, linguistic, and racial diversity of Latin America. While Spanish remains the dominant language, many indigenous languages, including Quechua, Mayan, and countless others, are spoken throughout the continent. The rich history of these languages and their speakers is a testament to the variety within the Latine identity.
Some of our icons, like Selena Quintanilla, weren't fluent Spanish speakers. Yet, they wore their Latino badge with pride. It goes to show that speaking a language is just one piece of the puzzle.
As the world evolves and cultures continue to intertwine, we need to rethink what it means to belong. Your connection to your heritage is a deeply personal and multifaceted thing that should not be criticized. And gatekeeping language only limits the richness of cultural exchange.
While the path to understanding and redefining what it means to be Latine might still be under construction, one thing is clear: It's time to leave divisive terms like "no sabo" behind. Everyone has their own way of connecting with their culture, and that's worth celebrating.
