A summer trip took our family to the city where I was born in the northern Mexican state of Chihuahua. It had been 8 years since I visited. Seeing the house where I grew up made me think of the dualities in my life and how far removed it felt from my current life, but memories from my childhood were so vivid that they could wrap me up in a hug and take me right back to my life in Mexico. That is the immigrant experience, living in two worlds where it seems we’re forced to pick, but that’s hardly ever the solution. The good experiences and the tough parts of my upbringing I embrace and treasure, every memory from my two homes are part of me, they’ve seen me develop into the mujer I am today. Porque soy de aqui y soy de allá.

Yo soy el olor a tierra mojada mientras mi bisabuela barre su patio
I am the fireworks from Fourth of July welcoming my move to the US

Yo soy los días en la tienda de abarrotes de mis abuelitos
I am missing home cooked meals from mi familia

Yo soy las tardes con mis primos comiendo granadas del árbol de mis bisabuelos
I am the polite smile when people speak English to me and I’m clueless ignoring what they mean

Yo fui mi inseguridad de padres divorciados y dudas de mi niñez
I am las cartas de mi madre that remind me I’m not alone 

Yo soy mi tÍa reservándome comida sin cilantro por disgusto de niña
I am the humidity that fogs up my glasses when I go outside in Florida

Yo soy la del cuadro de honor académico
I am the hours my step-mom spends helping me with English homework

Yo soy los bailes y bromas de mi tío ambientando fiestas
I am the courage to go to school everyday not understanding the language

Yo soy las tardeadas de secundaria bailando ska
I am the latin community welcoming otra de las suyas

Yo soy las pijamadas sin dormir con mi cuarteto
I am the protestas and rallies organized for immigration reform

Yo soy los deseos de ser el orgullo de la familia
I am the numerous calls to mi papá asking “¿como arreglo esto?”

Yo soy la casa de mi abuela, multigeneracional y siempre alguien que viene o va
I am the college applications figuring out how that works

Yo soy las fiestas de cumpleaños organizadas por mi ‘ama
I am my college experience, living at home and working my way through it

Yo soy el olor a chile chilaca en el comal
I am the breezy beach naps

Yo soy la despedida del mundo que conocía
I am the immigrant struggle

Yo soy la hermana mayor
I am the mother of three Floridian kids

Yo soy la suma de generaciones de mujeres que buscaban lo mejor para su familia y los suyos.
I am the complexity of feeling so far from what’s yours and the guilt of starting to embrace a new you. Wondering if everything was really better back home or is the nostalgia missing our love ones and la Tierra que nos vió crecer. Either way, learning to love all of me and what’s helped me to be.

Spanish is my first language. I didn’t learn to speak English until kindergarten. On the morning of my first day of kindergarten, I went into my parents’ bedroom and cried because I didn’t know English.

I really struggled with English in pre-k, but I picked it up quickly in kindergarten. It helped that my teacher convinced my parents to keep me in school all day with both the bilingual and English-speaking classes. I learned English so quickly that I was selected to read at my kindergarten graduation.

In the first grade, I mostly stopped speaking Spanish, even at home, and by that point, I was teaching my younger sister English. By the third grade, I had forgotten basic words in Spanish. That’s when my dad intervened and declared no more English at home. Period.

My dad took this further and assigned us readings in Spanish (especially during the summer). My parents were determined to NOT let us forget our language. And it worked.

My sister and I weren’t really resistant to this. Maybe we understood why my parents were so insistent. Regardless, my sister and I both speak, read, and write Spanish fluently, and we only talk to each other in Spanish. It became a running joke (in a good way) among our friends–they know that my sister and I will never speak to each other in English, even if it means having to take the extra step of translating our conversations to our friends.

I clearly remember my worry as a five year-old entering an English-only environment. My daughter is now in the same position: a Spanish-speaking four-year old starting school in an English-only environment.

I was really worried that she would get scared or anxious without being able to communicate with anyone around her, but unlike her mami, she has not struggled to learn English. It’s only been three weeks since the school year began, and her language skills have improved immensely.

I’m relieved, and we practice both languages at home. But I also worry because I know what’s coming…she will eventually want to speak more English than Spanish. I know this is normal. Most of her days will be spent interacting with others in English, and the Spanish will only be spoken at home or among family. She will start to forget Spanish; I’m already seeing it.

So my husband and I will have to tackle this on a daily basis to help her become fluent in both languages. My son doesn’t talk yet, so we’ll cross that bridge later.

Why is it so important for me that my children learn Spanish?

Many of their family members still live in Mexico. If my kids don’t learn Spanish, they won’t be able to communicate with their abuelita, tias, tios, and primos. There are also economic advantages to being bilingual, which I hope help them in their chosen career paths.

But most importantly, I want my children to take pride in their roots. I’m a historian, and I am fully aware of the long history of Mexican and Mexican American children being physically punished at school for speaking Spanish.

I’m currently researching Blackwell School, a segregated Mexican school in Marfa, Texas, where children of Mexican descent were discouraged from, and punished for speaking Spanish. I can only imagine what those children felt when their teachers said that the language they spoke, the language spoken by their parents was…bad. Some Blackwell alumni have spoken about the ensuing trauma from that cultural and linguistic erasure.

I don’t ever want my children to feel ashamed of their identities or their families.

My family, like many Mexican American families, varies linguistically. Our relatives in Mexico speak Spanish (and some members of my husband’s family speak indigenous dialects). The immigrant generation in el norte speaks Spanish and some English, and my generation (the cousins) are mostly bilingual.

Now, our kids speak only English, or are trying to learn some Spanish. But the Spanish language is always present–in the music at the carne asada, at the bailes, in the names of dishes we eat, in the conversations among the elders, in the nicknames we give each other, in the games we play like loteria and toma todo.

For my family, we may not all be fluent in Spanish, but that language represents home. Only time will tell how much (or little) my children will retain in their first language, but I hope it always feels like home.

For the past six months, I’ve been deep in a new hobby: gardening. And because I tend to go “all in,” I’ve joined Facebook groups, subscribed to plant newsletters, and read way too many articles. Along the way, I’ve learned why native plants matter for the local ecosystem and even researched which flowers help the bees the most.

In one of those gardening groups, I stumbled across something I’d never heard of before—Latino Conservation Week. I couldn’t wait to tell my Mexican-American teenager (though, in typical teen fashion, she was less excited than I was). Still, I’m thrilled to share what I’ve learned:

What is Latino Conservation Week?
Latino Conservation Week, or LCW, is an initiative of the Hispanic Access Foundation. It was created to encourage the Latino community to get outdoors and take part in protecting our natural resources. In 2025, it runs from September 13–21, which I love because it overlaps with the start of Hispanic Heritage Month. All kinds of organizations and agencies host events across the country. You can check the full list here to see if something is happening near you: LCW Events 2025. When LCW first launched in 2014, there were only 9 events. By 2024? Over 360 events nationwide! That’s incredible growth and impact.

This week has brought more attention to the vital role Latinos play in conservation. According to the LCW website: “It’s led to recognition from local, state and national elected officials of the important role Latinos play as stewards. Latino Conservation Week has emphasized the Latino community’s passion for the outdoors.”

Whether you’re an avid gardener like me or just someone who enjoys a walk in the park, Latino Conservation Week is a great reminder that our voices and actions matter in caring for the world around us. It’s a chance to celebrate our heritage, connect with nature, and pass down that love of the outdoors to the next generation. I hope you’ll check out an event near you—or simply take your family outside this week and make your own memories in the fresh air.