Tongue Tied

By: Jessica Hurtado

Nios, pueden escoger un libro, pero tiene que ser en ingls, y lo van a leer a sus papas
para tarea said Ms. Tarassras, encouraging us to choose a book in English. I was beyond excited
to look at the variety of books we could choose from because of how limited the Spanish section
was. I walked up and down the rows, examining each book; animal books, carton books, Disney
books. The other first graders were quick with their selection, but not me. I wanted to pick the
perfect book to show my mom how fast I was learning English, and make a better impression on
my mothers new husband. We had learned the basic way to sound words out and I was overly
confident.
I got home from school and immediately went into the kitchen where I found my mom
cooking flautas con arroz. I eagerly pulled out the little 3X5 book I had selected. Es en ingles?
asked my mom. Si, tengo que leer te este libro para mi tarea. Tengo que terminar de cocinar,
when Ezequiel gets home from work you can read to him she said. A little discouraged I didnt
get to read to her and get her approval on my new skill, I went to my room. When I heard my
stepdads work boots coming up the stairs I rummaged through my bag to find the book. Hi
honey, how was work? I was always impressed with my moms instant transition from Spanish
to English.
Work was good, how was everyones day? This was my chance, I impatiently shoved
the Casper the Friendly Ghost book I had picked in my stepdads face. I have to read it in
English, for homework. He smiled, surprised at the fact that I had decided to read to him and
give him my attention. He pulled out the chair and motioned for me to sit, Alright lets see here,
Casper the friendly ghost he exclaimed. I opened up the book and began reading, going into the

third page is where the problems began. Wahndy ah-nd her d-eh-d s-cr-ah-eh-md I was so sure
of myself and kept going, pronouncing my a in Spanish and even switching my a and e
sounds. Wait, what? my step dad stopped me confused about what he was hearing. Thats
pronounced Wendy not Wahndy he uttered. I was confused, but just nodded and continued
to read. Teeyy NO, its they I stared blankly at the page and wondered if we were looking at
the same word, beh- cahm NO its became I ignored him and kept going, Fryy... Do
you not know how to sound out? Whats wrong with you? he was becoming frustrated and so
was I.
I knew he was a very impatient man by the way he expected to come home from work
with food on the table and the house clean and my mom had never tested him. How do you not
know how to pronounce this? he shouted. I immediately busted into tears, bringing my mothers
attention to the room. Whats going on in here? Whys she crying? My step dad groaned, She
doesn't know how to read. I felt ashamed, as if I had somehow failed my mom. Of Course she
doesn't, I only taught her how to read in Spanish! His facial expression completely changed, he
turned red and his face tensed up Im sorry, I didnt know. Ay dios mio, go finish your
homework in your room mija, Ill go help you right now said my mother. Her tone had gone
from worried to angry in a matter of seconds and I knew better than to object: I collected my
things and went to my room.
The walls in our apartment were tremendously thin, I could hear my mom arguing with
my step dad. I couldnt hear everything they were saying, but I did hear Never My child and
Yell. The words lingered in my mind: I wasnt sure whether to be grateful she was protecting
me or ashamed that I was the main source of their problems.

Once the argument calmed down my mom came to my room. You can read to me now
she spoke calmly with a gentle smile. She didnt correct me, nor stop me, she let me read the
whole book chopping up words along with confusing my vowels. What am I doing wrong
mommy? What if I never learn how to read English? this was a scary thought for me. Dont
worry mija, eventually you will, Im not going to fix you or yell at you for pronouncing
something wrong. Youll pick it up just how you did with speaking English, just keep trying.
The reassurance from my mom was the only thing I needed to keep trying. I read every day after
that to improve my pronunciation and my mother was always there to pick me up when I was
feeling discouraged.
Although I didnt know it at the time, this was only the beginning of the constant
quarrels my mother would be battling to defend me. This encounter was the first to slowly shape
the distant relationship I would have with my mothers husband for the rest of my adolescence.