Languages :: Personal Narrative Foreign Papers

Languages im torn/rejecting outfits offered me/regretting things ive worn-Ani Difranco, Pale PurpleBilingual large number make me feel guilty. I read somewhere that in Sweden as well as many Asian countries schoolchildren are required to guide two quarrels at the very least, one of them English. I feel chivalrous as a speaker of excellent English. This is in part because the linked States is such a powerful entity (the dominating world power), save I dont want to think about that. However, when I spent judgment of conviction in Brazil with my Portuguese-speaking native mother, I was a gringa my English forming set out in the mouth, harsh and jarring against the smooth samba-based rhythms of Portuguese. I was the colonialist, the military colossus, the politicians and baby-kisser. I was the United States.This feels deja vu. I have written this essay before. It got me into New York University. therefore it was about finding a cultural niche during a four-week tourist va cation in Rio, Sao Paulo, and Bahia one summer. I postulated, Up until the summer of 1998, the ending limb of my body sculpture was not yet carved. Rio took up the chisel, and Bahia the hammer. . . I . . .danced the samba. . .and gained a cultural identity. The power of the mind is overwhelming I cannot class whether I truly believed that I became Brazilian on that trip to my homeland or if I just thought such a poignant essay-where I come to the realization that I do not fill to speak the language to be Brazilian-would get me into college. My mother is trilingual she speaks Spanish, Portuguese, and English fluently. She has this uncanny ability to recognize the rhythms of foreign languages (foreign. . . what an alienating word that is). What language are they speaking, mommy? became a common question whispered when move down the street. At one point, she worked for the New York City court governance as a translator. And I, I speak precisely English. Only English. Beautifull y, but still. As I wrote in that fateful essay, When I was two I knew more Portuguese than I know now. I picked up a few basic phrases when I visited-wheres the bathroom? and I like crybaby-but the only thing Ive retained is how to introduce myself. Eu me chamo Lila. I strike most of this on my father. His line was speak English to her.