One, two, three. Uno, dos, tres. Eins, Zwei, Drei. 

English, Spanish and German. 

These are the languages I speak. 

I was born in Mexico City. I grew up there. I attended a German school from when I was two years old through high school. Now, I’m in the U.S. getting my college degree.

I speak English, German and Spanish. I’ve spent my whole life switching between languages depending on where and with who I was.

At home I speak Spanish. In classes I spoke German, unless it was Spanish or English class. Nowadays, I speak English most of the time, unless I’m talking to family or friends back home, then I communicate in Spanish. But when I go visit my brother, I have to speak German, but not when I’m talking to him, unless there are other people present… 

It’s weird. 

I know three languages, but I can’t always communicate what I want in any of them. 

I remember the first time I had to take a math test in Spanish. I was in the third grade, and my classmates and I were incredibly confused by the instructions. Up till that point, we had only learned math in German. Our teachers thought we should’ve been able to understand the questions and use our knowledge to answer. 

After all, math is universal, right? Wrong. The change in language confused us, and we had no idea what we were supposed to be doing.

To this day, I can understand physics, math and biology in German, but I don’t have the vocabulary I need to hold the same conversations in Spanish, my mother tongue. 

My parents couldn’t help me or my brother with our homework because it was in a language they didn’t speak. And even if they translated, it we had difficulties understanding because all our knowledge of the subject was in German, not Spanish.

Back in my school, I was surrounded by people who had the same upbringing as me. We had our own way of communicating by mixing the languages we knew to understand what we were saying. We called it Humboldt Deutsch. 

When English was added to the mix in the fifth grade, we added Spanglish to Humboldt Detsch and continued communicating in a weird mix of the three languages. This was easy for us, but the moment we stepped out of our schools boundaries, we had occasional communication issues. We were so used to being able to switch to a different language when we forgot a word that we struggled when we weren’t able to do that and had to stick to just one. 

Speaking three languages has definitely helped me in life. Most of my classmates and I left Mexico to go study in different countries. A lot of my friends chose Germany, since that was the language we’d been learning since early childhood. I decided to come to the U.S. instead.

With my decision came a new set of adjustments and challenges.

I had never been in an English-speaking country for more than a couple weeks. I had never been surrounded by the language the way I had with Spanish and German. Most of my experience with English came from classes and films.

From the moment I stepped out of the plane, I had to adjust to the new language that everyone spoke around me. Ironically enough the weirdest part for me was that my classes were in the same language I spoke with my friends and classmates. I was so used to having to switch between German and Spanish that having the same language throughout my day felt alien to me. 

The most challenging part of adjusting to speaking English all the time was the slang. Slang presented a whole new way of talking that I hadn’t experienced before. And it turns out there are different types of slang. There is Chapman slang, SoCal slang, Cali slang, U.S. slang…

It took me a couple weeks to get the hang of it, but once I did, I found myself getting increasingly comfortable communicating in English all the time until I barely noticed it anymore.

Still, I can’t deny that when my friends told me I speak in English in my sleep,I had a minor identity crisis.

Language is a huge part of culture. Sometimes choosing one over the other feels like a betrayal. Sometimes not being able to fully communicate with one feels like a failure.

It’s weird that just hearing one word in German can short circuit my brain in a way that makes it incredibly difficult to switch back to English, but other times no matter how hard I try, there’s no way to get my point across if I don’t rely on German.

Whenever I go back home I speak Spanish, but there are always those moments where I slip and use some words in English. And then it feels like I’m leaving my culture behind. 

I’m trying not to think of it like that anymore. I’m not betraying my culture when I mix up languages. No matter what, the languages I speak will always be part of my own personal culture.

No matter where I go, I will always be able to discuss photosynthesis in German, discuss film techniques in English and debate politics in Spanish. I will always go back to using Humboldt Deutsch and Spanglish because they were a central part of my life growing up.

I am proud of the languages I speak and of how they form part of my story.