I have always been able to talk. I mean, not always, obviously, but since a very young age. I've never stopped talking, really. Even when I say I'm speechless, I'm not. I love my ability to weave words into sentences, phrases, stories, poems. It's not something to which I give much thought.
If I'm in a good rhythm of reading poetry, I think in poems. Mystery novels? I narrate my life as if I'm a detective. Right now, I'm reading articles and watching documentaries. There is a lot of quirky music playing in my head and an NPR-type narrator going at all times.
It's tough for me to imagine a life without language. I love hearing people speak in foreign languages because it's like music to me. I have always loved the Romance languages. Even when you're angry, it sounds like an opera. I enjoy the way the words string together.
German and the Slavic languages remind me of staccato gunfighting. Even when you are showing love, it sounds like you are damning someone. I have the ability to understand a smattering of words in a variety of languages.
It's interesting when people speak Spanish around me. I used to be fluent; a lot of vocab se me perdio (lost itself to me-literal translation) because I didn't practice it. In general, I don't eavesdrop when people are speaking Spanish. I respect their desire to conduct a conversation in their native tongue, whatever their motivation or reason.
If someone speaks Spanish to me, it's a process. I stumble to translate it into English, then contemplate the response, then stumble to translate it to Spanish. When I spend a long time in Mexico, I start dreaming in Spanish. It internalizes. I am grateful to have family that accepts my Spanglish with grace.
I don't believe English should be our national language. I think that's a backward and old-fashioned idea. I believe language is an art and we all appreciate art in different ways. We all express art in different ways. I just watched a documentary, Herb & Dorothy, about two New Yorkers who have spent their lifetime appreciating, collecting and promoting minimalist art.
It's not my aestethic. I love Impressionistic art and sculpture. I love black and white photography, especially of the journalistic variety. I enjoy that pictures tell a story. It seems simplistic, but what if I were to outlaw minimalist art? Wouldn't that cause an outcry from minimalist artists? Of course it would.
Saying that people shouldn't be able to speak their native language is the same thing. It seems to offend people that immigrants don't want to lose the tradition of their native language. It seems to offend people that they have to press "1" for Spanish. I really have never understood why.
Part of is that I've always heard another language. I have always heard Spanish at family gatherings. It's not offensive to me. It's beautiful. It's like walking into a different wing of a gallery. It's like realizing there was a beautiful artist who's been producing work for years and I'm just now seeing her work.
Yesterday, I went to get my oil changed. The kids and I went into the kids lounge and were by ourselves for a bit. After a while, two women and two kids came in. They were conversing part in English and part in another language. I was racist and judged them to be Hispanic because of their brown skin. However, the language they were speaking was not Spanish. There were elements that seemed to fit, but then they used words that were discordant to the melody I was expecting.
I wanted to ask them what language they were speaking, but didn't want to be intrusive. Whatever language it was, I wanted to walk in the gallery for a bit. I was intrigued. I was not terrified that they were plotting something; I didn't think they were gossiping about me.
The documentary I'm watching right now is amplifying this idea. It's called Retches and Jabberers and it's about two men with autism. They discovered that they could communicate with one another and other people through typing on the computer. They are beautiful people who feel they have been struck with an awful disease. But to watch them communicate, it makes me cry.
They express themselves in a way that is more beautiful than any language I've ever heard. They are giving a voice to thoughts and feelings that were trapped inside themselves for decades. If people cannot speak it doesn't mean they cannot feel. It doesn't meant they aren't in anguish about their lives or situation or feelings. Not speaking in English doesn't mean someone is dumb or deaf. It means they process information differently. It means they express information differently.
I think it's time we keep expanding, not restricting, the gallery. We all can benefit from more art in our lives.
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