Growing Up In The Dominican Republic

I’ve heard many stories about being “multicultural.” You hear of people speaking homemade creoles, enjoying zesty ethnic foods, and “returning to their roots” for inspiration. As a member of a multi-ethnic family myself, I completely agree that growing up in two cultures can be a mind opening privilege. However, that’s not how it always feels.
There are days when my access to Spanish, Dominican cuisine, and Dominican culture allows me to explore another dimension of the world around me, but it can also close the world a little. It’s almost like trying to sit on two chairs at the same time (which, if you grew up in the Dominican Republic you'd have some experience with in public transport; bus rides can get pretty packed.) Some days that extra
You hear so much about how another language can open a new world of possibilities, but this language can also be what shuts you out. As a kid growing up in the Dominican, I would never expect people to treat me differently because I spoke English and looked American, but soon I learned to keep it a secret.
“Yu espikin Inglis?” They’d say. “¡Ah, po’ el e’ gringo!”
No, I wasn’t a foreigner; I’d reply. Still, I was always “el Americano.” People assumed I couldn’t understand their teasing, or would try to jack up prices in stores. It was something I got used to, but never comfortable with.
What got on my nerves the most was my “American accent.” Now, I can assure you that my Spanish is nothing short of fluent, but somewhere this myth propagated throughout my family that I spoke like a gringo. “But you can’t roll your Rs,” my mom (who’s Spanish I grew up with) would say. It didn’t matter that many Dominicans couldn’t roll their Rs; in my case it was an
Instead, I embraced it, Independence Day, apple pie and all, with the same eagerness I’d pursue concón for desert and wait for los Patronales each September. But something I learned from being “the outsider” is that there is so much to explore beyond what I’ve always known. It just so happens that when you fall through the chairs of life, you sometimes land on another chair that you’ve never seen before. Maybe, by chance, you could end up next to that German neighbor and start learning a new language. Maybe you’ll sit next to the Thai exchange student and learn about East Asian music. I found that the more I opened myself up and explored the world, the more I felt at home; even if I was left out of what I was familiar with. I’ve decided that now I will get off my own comfy-chair and see how the rest of the world sits too, with or without that “friendly”