Between Languages: A Personal Bilingual Journey

A Women’s History Month reflection on identity, belonging, and the power of home language.

During Women’s History Month — and throughout the year — SEAL invites our community to reflect on the role language plays in shaping identity and opportunity.

By SEAL’s Samantha Martin

Spanish and English were spoken in our home about the same amount when I was little. The languages lived alongside each other naturally. There was a balance between the two.

I remember hearing more Spanish when I was very young. My younger sisters didn’t hear it as often. This was because once school started, English quickly became the language that mattered most — the language of homework, tests, and success in the classroom.

At school, everything was in English, and naturally it became easier to speak English at home because that was the language we were tested and graded in. My ability to write a great English essay and build strong English vocabulary mattered. Spanish slowly moved into the background.

Later, I learned that English-only instruction wasn’t just preference. It was policy.

Pride and Distance

At family gatherings, Spanish filled the house — music, conversation, laughter.

I felt proud of that.

But I struggled to speak with my grandparents, who only spoke Spanish.

Because I wasn’t fluent in Spanish, I sometimes felt like I wasn’t “Latina enough.”

There were moments that felt complicated in another way, too. I felt flattered when people assumed I spoke Spanish. But when I tried and stumbled — when I couldn’t find the words I needed — I felt embarrassed.

Still, I tried.

Language isn’t just vocabulary for me. It’s belonging.

As a young girl, I didn’t yet understand how much language would shape my confidence — and the woman I would become.

What I Didn’t Have Words For

As I got older, the balance between my two languages continued to shift.

In high school, I took Spanish classes. I struggled with grammar but took pride in my pronunciation. I loved ordering carne asada and queso fresco at the store.

But I never learned professional Spanish — how to lead, advocate, or express myself confidently in it. For years, and still to this day, I wondered if that would limit me in my career.

What I Understand Now

My language loss is not my fault.

For many years, I believed it was. I thought I had simply failed to hold onto Spanish strongly enough. But through my work with SEAL, I began to understand the policies that shaped my education.

Prop 227 removed bilingual education from California schools. When the ban began in 1998, I was just starting elementary school. When it ended in 2016, I was already out of college. The opportunity to learn both of my languages together was taken away during my entire academic journey.

For a long time, I carried guilt because I thought I had chosen to abandon my culture and Spanish. But I now understand that the systems around me shaped those outcomes.

English-only policies shaped more than instruction. They shaped my confidence.

I almost lost one of my home languages not because I didn’t care, but because it wasn’t nurtured in the spaces where I spent most of my time.

Today, I’m a co-chair at a Latina empowerment organization I’ve been part of since 2019, where conversations move between English and Spanish. I know I belong there — I am welcomed, accepted, and empowered. In that space, I’m not judged for not being fluent. I’m guided and supported as I continue learning.

Still Becoming

Now I’m a mother.

I’m raising a son who can say his colors and count to twenty in Spanish. I’m raising a daughter who will grow up hearing both languages without questioning whether she belongs in either.

When I look at old photos of my mom, my sisters, and me, I remember us singing nursery rhymes together in both English and Spanish.

I’m still learning, too.

This Women’s History Month, I’m reflecting on how language shaped my experience — in ways that were complicated, imperfect, and still unfolding.

Language connects us across generations.

Ensuring students’ home languages are cultivated — not silenced — is how we can honor that history.

My experience with language loss is unfortunately not unique. I share it because I want something different for my son and daughter’s generation — and for the generations that come after them.

Supporting Bilingualism at Home

If you're interested in learning more SEAL offers this resource as a simple ways families can strengthen language through everyday interactions.