Having now lived in Miami for a couple of months, I have discovered that what a lot of people know about this area is true. You don’t
hear a lot of English being spoken here.
And here’s my thought on that – so what?
I can hear the Bubbas now – “This is AMURRICA! We speak
ENGLISH here!”
Well yeah, with a decisively ignorant accent.
Look. We are a nation of immigrants. And if you want to
really get down to it, the ‘native’ language of this country is whatever the
Sioux or Senecas were speaking 400 years ago. English was imported here from,
well, England.
Yes you heard me. English is a foreign language.
But it is also what was taught to us as children. It is the
accepted form of communicating in this country, and is certainly the dominant
language of our nation.
But not in Miami.
And I realize this pisses off a lot of people. Many avoid
this area as a result. Which is too bad for them, as this is an entrancing
place loaded with local flavor and multiple cultures. Miami isn’t just a city
with a bunch of Cubans. There are Venezuelans, Colombians, Brazilians, Puerto
Ricans, Virgin Islanders, and so on.
But yet, the ignorant among us want to avoid them and decry
their insistence on speaking in their native tongue. And I dare say, it is
these same ignorant people who, when traveling to Europe, insist the French or
Italians speak English to THEM. After all, we are Americans, and damn, we are
full of ourselves. It’s almost as if we are saying, “We are armed to the teeth
& can blow your little country back into the Stone Age so don’t tell me I
have to learn your language.”
And we wonder why other countries hate us. They love
America, but not crazy about the Americans inhabiting it.
But anyway. I took Spanish back in high school. Four years
of it. But given that was 35 years ago, obviously I have forgotten much of it.
My vocabulary is probably a hundred or so words, but I can fluently state to
someone of Hispanic descent, “Yo hablo solamente un poquito de Espanol, porque
yo aprendo en la escuela…many years ago.”
They then smile at me and we proceed to have a nice
conversation…in English.
Because here is what the Bubbas don’t understand – these
people know English too, at least the vast majority of them do, and the ones
that don’t, you can still communicate with them.
See, here’s the lesson, kiddies. You can communicate without
using words. Verbalizing sounds is but one way to communicate.
So here I am in Miami with very limited Spanish at my
disposal, and I can tell you I am not at all at some kind of communicative
disadvantage. I get along just find, gracias.
And I can tell you my Spanish vocabulary is, obviously,
growing. It is inevitable in a place like Miami. But do I feel irritated by
this? Do I feel resentful that I have to try to learn a language in a place
where the stars and stripes flap on a flagpole?
Not at all.
And why not?
Because it’s fun. It’s what makes Miami Miami. And it
exposes me to new cultures, new activities…not to mention some totally hawt
Hispanic babes. And by speaking a little Spanish to them, you know what
happens? Their faces light up and they smile.
See, I am more about trying to ingrain myself into the
culture of a place instead of dogmatically insisting they conform to me. By
having that attitude, new vistas open. And here, with over sixty percent of the
population being of Hispanic descent, the city and all its charms open up to
me.
But, if you want to insist everyone speaks English, stay in
Iowa. Because no matter how many laws are passed, no matter what efforts are
instituted to homogenify everyone into only one form of communication, it will
never work. They will still speak Spanish in Miami.
And I have no problem with that.
