Knowing English wasn’t enough.

I usually don’t write in English, not because I don’t know how to, is just that not being my first language is a little bit more complicated for me to say certain things (so, I apologize in advance for any grammar errors), if you have tried to listen or say something more elaborated in Spanish, French or whatever language you know or are learning for example, you can understand what I’m talking about; if you’ve traveled the world and tried to communicate with the people, you may know how difficult it actually is; although, thankfully, in the touristic areas of most of the countries they require employees to have certain level of English in order to get the job, so I guess that’s a plus for ya’ll.

But when you have to actually migrate to another country, knowing the language isn’t specifically all you need to fit in.  

Bilingual in a one language country.

I learned English when I was very little, my mom made the effort to teach me with songs and movies since I was a baby, I watched The Lion King, The Little Mermaid and Aladdin till I learned the lines by heart, and by the time I got to school I was always on top of my English class, thinking that the only thing English was going to be useful for was to pass my class and maybe have a better job than the majority, since in a country like Guatemala, knowing another language─ specially English, gives you a bit of advantage.

Even with no college education at all, I did find a good paying job eventually; despite the 10 to 12 hour shifts, six days a week,  sitting in front of a computer listening to angry customers yelling at me to transfer them to an “american” representative, because they couldn’t stand to listen to a hispanic accent over the phone, barely having time to go to the bathroom during my shift, losing 4 hours in traffic every day going back and forth, developing sleeping and eating disorders… the payment wasn’t bad─ I really didn’t have time to enjoy it, but it gave me the false impression that I was rich, so I made the effort.

Then, during the time that my mom and my sister migrated to the U.S., I got the dream job I didn’t even know I was longing for: Mission trips translator. The payment wasn’t as high as my previous job, but dear Lord, how I loved that job! Not only because I got to travel to beautiful places in my country─ which I love, but mostly because I got to meet amazing people and had the chance to see face to face the reality of Guatemala. You can’t imagine how much God made my love for people and social justice grow during those years, having dropped out of college two times, I felt that my life and English skills really had purpose, I didn’t feel like a failure anymore and the heartache of not having my mom and my sister near to me faded a bit (plus, I got to meet Mr. Right, but that’s another long story). Have you ever had a job that you’d do for free if you didn’t have the need to make money? Well, that was it for me.

When knowing another language is not enough.

I knew I was going to move the U.S. eventually; I can’t say I was completely ready for it, there is an entire mix of emotions that I will never be able to explain, it’s never easy to leave your entire life behind. It’s never easy to kiss your loved ones goodbye, not knowing when are you going to see them again, say goodbye to your old house, your old roads, your food and all the things that have always been there, the people and places that you’re familiar with, all of the little details that made your life what it was… But most of all, the fact that you will have to blend into a culture and life views completely different from your own, that’s another level of anxiety.

I have to admit I was a little too confident about myself, I knew because of things I read and people I spoke to, that the most difficult thing for latinos when moving to the U.S. was the difficulty of the English language; the ability of one to really merge and be accepted─ I heard, was proportional to one’s ability to communicate with the locals.

“I got this” I said, “I’ve spoken English my entire life, my accent isn’t that strong, I’ve been here to visit before, this isn’t a big deal”.

I couldn’t be more wrong.

Although I was left alone in the house most of the time, and trying to overcome my social anxiety, I tried my best to go to places and talk to people, but as much as I wanted, little by little, I got to understand that I wasn’t going to fit in, and it had nothing to do with my ‘ability to communicate’. I know that I overreact sometimes, my family is always telling me not to be oversensitive, but as much as I tried, there were certain things that I couldn’t ignore. I couldn’t overlook the fact that as much as I tried to speak the language perfectly and to be as nice and friendly as I could, people still didn’t seem to be interested in having a friendship with me; I had a couple of conversations (if you can call them like that) with some people my age, and that was it, no callbacks, no gatherings, nothing! I couldn’t overlook the people staring at me and my sister when they heard us speaking at the supermarket or McDonald’s, even if we switched from Spanish to English from time to time, there was always, ALWAYS a person looking directly at us as if we were covered by garbage or something, even having my stepdad (who is a local)  by our side. “You will get used to it” my mom and my sister said, “Just ignore them”, I know I’m supposed to, but, don’t you think is a little awkward to have a person looking at you as if they want to hit you when you’re having breakfast? “Is the area where you live” someone told me, “you should come to the cities, all the latinos are here, you’ll feel at home here”, “well”, I thought “I live in the suburbs, I can’t go and live over there right now, I want to build relationships here, I can do it, I speak good English, don’t I?” so, I made the effort to go out and keep trying. “It’s Minnesota” other person said, “Don’t believe in that ‘Minnesota nice’ thing, it’s more like ‘Minnesota ice’, or ‘Minnesota passive aggressive’, people are very private here and they have a hard time opening up” What was I supposed to do then? I am no extrovert whatsoever, I have a hard time keeping a conversation going on for more than three minutes, I didn’t know what to do then!

It doesn’t have to do with the language, it doesn’t even have to do with the cultural difference! I’ve been relating to americans for years, and I know we can click perfectly when we are back in Guatemala, but what does it make it different here? What’s the difference between Andrea here and Andrea in Guatemala? I made my best efforts to learn the slang, the culture, what minnesotans like to do, eat, watch and listen to.

But sadly that wasn’t enough, and it didn’t take too long for me to realize that, and after several attempts to force myself to socialize, I finally decided to give up, not on people, since I did get to meet some people, once I stopped trying so hard; they have blessed me with their support during this hard journey, making a difference among the people who said they welcomed me with their words, but rejected me with their actions; but I certainly gave up on trying so hard to fit in so bad in a place that generally seems not to want me in a first place, why? I still don’t know. So I made up my mind and let go on my desire to force things. That lead me to leave the church and youth group I was attending, stop talking to people that didn’t care anyway, isolating in my house during my free time, and be grateful for my family and friends that I still talk to thanks to technology back in Guatemala.

•••

I wish I could tell you things are much different now, that I got to meet a lot of new people after that struggling phase, that I don’t get stared at in places, that I have a great desire to go and talk to others, that people don’t look at me funny when I say something the wrong way, that I don’t get pissed when a racist clerk doesn’t want to treat me and my peruvian friend with the same respect as the other customers in a store. I wish I could tell you I don’t feel like crap sometimes because I still don’t feel welcomed in this country when I have to be in a place where I need to socialize and interact with locals, although I speak the language even better than when I just arrived three years ago, or because my own country is so messed up that I know this is much better than to go back, but I can’t.

You probably can’t relate, just as I can’t relate to the hell that other hard working people go through because they don’t even know English (because if you think what I went through was uncomfortable, there are others that have it even worse than I did, like my sister for example) and that’s completely OK, you don’t have to, is not your fault, and I am by no means trying to make you feel guilty about it, I’m just trying to make you realize the big efforts we as immigrants make to show you that we are worthy to share space in this great country you had the privilege to be born in. The media and some extremist groups will try to highlight the flaws and evil among us, but isn’t evil universal? Aren’t we all sinners that can fall anytime? Aren’t there bad people in every ethnicity just as there are also good people? The evil and the rotten of this world don’t have anything to do with the color of the skin, the language you speak or the religion you claim to believe in, is a heart issue that goes beyond of what we can see with our eyes.  

Behind that person you are being quick to judge because of how they look or the accent that they have when trying to speak your language, there is an incredible effort to be accepted, an amazing story of goodbyes and new beginnings you don’t know about; there are a lot of amazing people out there that if you give them the chance, you’ll realize you have more in common with than what you think, that can teach you things that you can’t imagine, no matter what their background is, you might be able to find invaluable knowledge, your next employee of the month, the love of your life, that business partner you were praying for, or the best friend you could ever ask for. When we give ourselves the chance to welcome people from all places and cultures to our lives, we get to experience what God really intended for his family to be, that’s the beauty and power of diversity.

Language is not enough, it takes loving people to make others feel like home.