Wilaynes Gonzalez

English Composition
2-14-17

Needle in a Haystack

My wooden pencil scribbled furiously against one of my grandmothers old notepads,

aimlessly writing whatever inspiration floated to my mind. Deep in concentration, I allowed the

pencil to continue sliding on the paper, almost as if it were taking control. I paused, only to see

that I havent written a single coherent word and all Ive scribbled was the most hideous rows of

doodles and symbols.

I gasped. Mira! I beamed, my 4 year old self proudly showing my grandmother

something I wrote that resembled the actual letter U. Well, at least I thought.

Wow, que bueno, My grandmother praised. Sigue practicando ahi. Escribe en Ingles.

From how quickly she skimmed the paper, Im sure she didnt actually find what I was showing

her. Just like my mother, she just continuously encouraged me to keep being excited about

learning and learn as much as I could all the time.

Mami! Como se dice nevera en Ingles? I asked my mother as I entered the car. I had

just been dropped off by the cheese buses, in front of the entrance of my neighborhood in

Albany.

Eh she pondered for a moment, fridge, she replied, her Spanish accent heavy.

Although she didnt speak much English, she helped me with mine as much as she could. She

understood that being the only Spanish kid in kindergarten of all white kids wasnt easy.

Especially because I was entering the grade with the English alphabet being the only thing I

knew about the English language, which my mother taught me.

I absorbed the new vocabulary into my little brain. Oh.

1
 As a 6 year old, I never acknowledged the difference between me and everyone else as a

hardship. Me being my naive self, I never saw it. I knew that ethnicity and language was what

separated us. I was the needle in a haystack.

But of course I always stood out. The language barrier was just one way. There were

always things that I did much differently than others did, from the way I spoke, ate, looked, etc. I

remember all the times my mom complained about the chlorine from the schools pool drying

out my hair.

Coo, pero esa agua te tiene el pelo todo reseco! She would grumble as she washed

my hair. My school held swimming classes on Wednesdays and Fridays and my curly hair would

suffer from it. Dominicans have a large variety of much curlier, ethnic hair types compared to

Caucasians. Curly hair is naturally drier than straight hair so the chlorine affected my hair more

than my friends hair. If I didnt use conditioner after swimming class I would go home with a

frizzy head of curls, which stood out next to all my friends who generally had ubiquitous

Caucasian straight or slightly wavy hair. Translocating from Albany to NYC was a big transition.

I went from being surrounded by all-white, strictly English-speaking people to a community of

Spanglish-speaking Hispanics and blacks. The people looked different and spoke different. They

interacted differently and lived entirely different. In my neighborhood back in Albany, I lived in

a town house. Everything was spaced out. Groceries were a car drive away, school was a car

drive away, everything was a car drive away. You needed a car for everything. Things were very

calm compared to NYC. The city was much louder, dangerous, and close together.

By the time I got to New York City, my English was very fluent. In fact, I knew more

English than the students around me. In my new school, there were many students whose first

3
language was Spanish and needed extra help in class. I was able to relate to them and willing to

help because of that, so the teacher often paired me up with them, specifically so I could help

translate things here and there for them.

Ive learned to be very independent at a young age. Back in Albany, whenever I would

get homework, I was responsible to figure things out for myself. I didnt have a tutor, nor could I

ask my parents for help. Yeah, my mom knew a bit of English, but it wasnt enough to help me

with my homework. It became a mindset to learn how to be responsible and do things by myself.

Because of this, I grew up comfortably knowing I didnt need anyone to accomplish things.

My baby sister grew up and went to school with people who were like her all the time. It

vastly contrasted the way I grew up. My mom knew much more English by the time my sister

was old enough for school, so she was able to ask both my mother and I for help. She was very

dependent on us for help. She was also very reluctant to do any work anyways. She would often

throw fits about not wanting to do her homework, which often successfully resulted in my mom

doing it for her. Trust me, it was very annoying seeing her get away with those kinds of stunts.

Over the years, Ive been able to notice how the way we grew up with language influenced the

way we approach things now. It comes very easy to me to be reluctant to ask for help and just do

things myself compared to her, where my sister would much rather not do it if no one helps her.

We are very opposite people. Both of our experiences with language have shaped us differently

into the people that we are today.