As I was sipping my delicious peach cream martini from the rooftop of a prominent bar in Manhattan I glanced around and noticed that most people, lucky enough to enjoy this experience, were, or appeared to be, white. It’s truly a small percentage considering the hundreds of people that walk the streets of New York City, not to mention the amount of diversity amongst pedestrians!

There are obvious factors to take into account, such as the possibility that the faces making an appearance on the rooftop are mostly those of tourists, although I think I can still pose the same question.

This thought exactly is one of the reasons why I am pursuing a Ph.D in bilingual education. Analyzing how certain individuals make it, to say a rooftop to enjoy a view and cocktail, seems to have always permeated my mind to the point of frustration, making me wish I could see beyond the “benefits” of race and social class. In other words, sometimes I wish I knew less, questioned and analyzed less. Frankly put, sometimes I wish I could change the way I interpret life…sometimes ignorance is bliss.

Below is a link to my most recent posting with Mother’s Utopia! Saray, an Ecuadorian native, started the website and blog in order to support mother’s who wish to nurse their bebit@s.

What I love about her and the work she does, which includes providing doula services, is that she is also a voice for Latino community!

I hope that you take the time to explore her website and that you enjoy my personal account about nursing my baby girl. Just click on the link below:

It Takes a Whole Pueblo to Nurse a Baby!

As we approach the day we are taking off to Quito, Ecuador the Spanish is rolling off my tongue like fire. I guess you can say traveling motivates me. In fact, I have been dreaming in Spanish, which NEVER happens unless I’m actually in a Spanish-speaking country and for some time.

We are going to Quito for a cousin’s wedding. It has been six years since the last time, and only time, I set foot in this colorful South American country. It will also be our first time traveling internationally as a family. I am excited, yet a little apprehensive because I know the experience will not compare to the last, nor the numerous trips I have taken abroad with my husband and with girlfriends for that matter. It is a new “epoca” in our life, in my life. From here on out I will carry a new identity as a traveler. One as a mother. There will be new worries, new interests, new adventures to say the least.

I have to remind myself that this is our first trip internationally. We will learn a lot I am sure, but at the same time it will serve as an experience that will only make us more savvy as parents who love to travel. It will only make our future trips easier…I hope. This is something I keep repeating.

To that end, I am requesting tips. Tips about how to make traveling internationally with a one year old easier. And to those of you who are traveling with your family this summer, Bon voyage!

I have been meaning to share about an awesome opportunity I got to participate in last week. If you haven’t already done so you must check out the Tiki, Tiki Blog created by Carrie Weir. She provides a space for individuals to share about their experiences with anything and everything there is about Latino culture! I love reading all the stories on varied topics.

Last week I was lucky enough to have one of my stories shared on the Tiki, Tiki. I wrote about how I let go of fear when attempting to have a natural, medicince and intervention-free birth. If you are interested in reading people’s stories about Latino culture, then head on over to the Tiki, Tiki.

I hope you like my story! It was a hard story to write. There are so many angles I could have written from and I chose one that I thought could best benefit any readers interested in learning about an intervention and med-free birth. Enjoy, just click on the link below!
http://tikitikiblog.com/natural-birth-letting-go-of-fear/#axzz1OQ5Ns0WO

Who gets to be trilingual? The situation always seems to present itself as such: one parent speaks one minority language and the other parent another minority language and they live somewhere, where the majority language is spoken.

What about those parents who are monolingual? What about parents who are both what they call heritage speakers of a minority language, like myself? What about parents who would LOVE for their children to speak more than one language, but can’t afford to send them to private foreign language schools? This is one of the very reason why I don’t play an instrument, for example. My parents did not have the financial means to send me to lessons, let alone rent or buy and instrument. I got to dance ballet, but only because the classes were by donation.

I feel fortunate that we have the option to send our daughter to a foreign language school. As much as I advocate for multilingualism I also have to acknowledge that there are individuals for whom this is not an option.

The city I live in, Austin,Texas, has finally implemented dual language education in our public schools. A selected few schools were chosen, but hopefully others will follow. This kind of education, where bilingualism is the goal, has been one our local community has advocated for several years. I guess you can say the larger community is starting to find value in multilingualism or that all it can sometimes take is a savvy, younger, open-minded superintendent to catch on to the idea of bilingualism as a goal. So, again, I pose the question, what about those cities where dual language education is not an option in the public schools? It was only a few years ago where this was the case in my progressive, university-town of a city. The only schools that existed were fairly expensive private ones.

There’s more to considering how much it costs to become bilingual or trilingual. As I have been researching private day cares for our baby I have learned that private-language schools cost a little more than your regular private schools. In fact, these private language day care schools are in such demand that I find myself weighing the “costs”, and not just in monetary terms, but in other ways, such as teachers that seem more like “ninieras” than actual teachers. When thinking about how much it costs to becoming multilingual I am referring to multiple sentidos. There’s the extra financial burden and then there’s the fact that the foreign languages schools are limited in scope, therefore limited in how particular parents can be when thinking about other factors such as teaching philosophy, cleaningness, distance from home, or student to teacher ratios.

No matter where we stand in our plight for multilingual education one thing remains the same: the importance of continuing to advocate for dual language education so that everyone has the option and not have to weigh out the costs.

*Originally published on Feb. 10, 2011 on the Spanglish Baby website.

My bebita had her first taste of travel! More importantly, she had her first semi-immersion into another culture: Miami. I think she fit right in, too. When we arrived to Cuba Nostalgia, a annual event to celebrate Cuban culture in Miami, she fell asleep. I thought for sure all of the loud music would wake her up. There were several genres of music playing that I couldn’t even repeat the names of because I already forgot them. There were a lot of people speaking Spanish and a mix of English and Spanish left and right.

When my bebita awoke she instantly looked around and smiled when she heard the music and saw all the colorful people (at least that’s how I interpreted her expressions). At one point, a booth was giving away maracas and people rushed to grab some so that they could play along with the salsa music. It was loud (no exaggeration there)! Sabrina LOVED it. My mom gave her a maraca and she held on to it and rattled it like everyone else! Her papa was dancing with her and her abuelita was dancing in circles around them. It was beautiful!

I think what my mom said about Sabrina’s experience at Cuba Nostalgia pretty much sums up her immersion to Latino culture, “It was like she knew exactly what her mama & papa like (everything and anything Latino),” which is who she is becoming, a little Latina,  “and went right along with their celebration!”

Cuba Nostalgia. It’s the name of an event we are going to this weekend with my mom during our visit in Miami. Everytime I visit this vibrant and colorful city I exclaim to those around me that all of my senses are reawakened! The sound of Latin, tropical music from the radio stations make my body break out in convulsions for the urge to dance, dance, dance. The beautiful south Florida beaches entice my eyes and smell to imagine myself living here one day (which I know will never happen), and the taste of everything Cuban here from the pastelitos de guayaba to the typical Cuban dish of ropa vieja mmm mmm mmm make my mouth water.I was thinking about the numerous times I have visited Miami. I lost count years ago, but I also realized that I have been to this beautiful place at very different points in my adult life, therefore I have had the opportunity to experience it from multiple perspectives (e.g., single-twnty-year-old, engaged, married, to a new mommy with baby in tow). One day I’ll share how each has shaped my time here.I know that when I return to my home in Central Texas I will once again repeat the same thoughts and desires of which Brazilians call saudade (and for what the rest of the world refers to as nostalgia even though it isn’t a literal translation) for wanting to be in the heart of Miami. Until my next visit I will indulge in Miami (a.k.a Cuba) nostalgia.

Have you ever had one of those moments where all of the pivotal experiences in your life are flashed right before your eyes? No, not like when you think you are going to die, but quite the contrary. When you feel like you have reached a huge milestone or when you feel like time is passing, moving forward, or when the culmination of all your hard work is brought to the forefront. It is usually the kind of moment that lasts but a few minutes. I had one of these instances a few months ago.

I was driving to the university campus for my first year review as a doctoral student in bilingual and bicultural education. A first year review occurs after you have accumulated a certain number of hours and professors in the department have the opportunity to determine whether a student can remain in the program, remain under conditions, or ask a student to leave if they decide that someone is not a right fit, more or less. I have actually been in the program for three years, but because I have either had to work full time or was busy having a baby it has taken me slightly longer, which is something I am one hundred percent okay with.

At any rate, I was driving on the interstate thinking about the work sample I had submitted and the possible conversation that would occur with the professors in my department when I could feel that my dad was right there next to me in the passenger seat. I was not alone as much as I feel like I am on this long, hard, and often tumultuous journey as mom-phd-student. I felt his presence and support which made me think about key events in my life that have shaped who I am today.

I remembered the first day of kindergarten and waiting in line to find my name written on a paper cut red apple and seeing one of my friends from the neighborhood crying. I remember thinking to myself, “Why is she crying? We are going to kindergarten!!!” I remembered performing a ballet recital when I was around 10 and feeling nervous yet excited to have my family there supporting me. I thought about the first few days, maybe weeks after my father passed away and how hard it was for me and my sisters to adjust without him. I thought about graduating as an undergrad and thinking how I almost did not make it as I was put on academic probation my first semester at the same university where I am now pursueing a PhD. I also thought about my mother and all of the years in high school when she would emphasize the importance of studying and only having to really wear jeans and a blouse to school instead of all the stylish clothes my sisters and I fought over. I thought about my wedding day and how proud I was to have my mother walk me down the aisle and lastly I thought about giving birth and how empowered it made me feel. By the time I got to campus that morning I felt a sense of peace. I knew that I had already accomplished enough to make me feel fulfilled. I know this is a morbid thought, but the truth is that my father passed away at a very young age and these are thoughts that cross my mind every so often, I thought that if I were to pass away now I think I would feel fulfilled…for the most part.

So, I arrived to campus, parked the car, walked to the school of education and felt at ease to talk to a group of seven professors. I had already met and overcome so many challenges in my life time…what was another thirty minutes.