I was in the back seat of the car with my mother at age 6, driving down a (more or less) major route in Eastern Massachusetts. For whatever reason, we pulled into a strip mall parking lot to get some things at CVS. I remember my mother’s voice on the way out of the parking lot, rambling on about something that I needed to do, obviously from a place of genuine care and love. But I remember specifically tuning out everything she was saying. The sounds kind of became randomized sound segments that receptors in my brain could not parse. I then thought about something for a second: English isn’t the only language out there, and most people in the world would have no idea what my mom was saying.

The ending of this story is anticlimactic – I know – and this moment isn’t necessarily huge. But it tells me that even at age 6 I had some sort of meta-linguistic awareness. In school, I wasn’t exposed to foreign language until 7th grade, and though I was really good in class, it didn’t seem to stand out because in public school I was good at everything else. When I arrived at a private high school in 9th grade, I had been placed in the advanced Spanish class, Spanish 2A. That class traumatized me – mostly due to its untimely intersection with the peak of my social awkwardness and shyness. But I still did pretty well in the end, and I had learned a lot. I continued to excel in Spanish through my high school graduation, and I had won the Excellence in Foreign Language (Spanish) award from my high school. Yet despite all my successes with the language, I believed I wanted to do something with sports in college.

So I applied to the UMass Sport Management Program. And luckily, I didn’t get in. But I did get accepted into UMass as a Spanish major. I was briefly let down, but quickly realized that I would figure it out.

And now I’m here. One semester away from graduating. Not in Sport Management.

The more I reflect on my time here, the more apparent the role of language in my life becomes. In my college time, I realized that language is my door to the Universe. We all have our own doors – things that help us describe and explain our Universe around us. These doors could be a subject in school like Astronomy and History – or it could be pottery. It doesn’t matter. But what these doors do is allow us to discover new things, think new thoughts, and evolve as an individual. Language is my door to describing my environment around me and understanding it. Language is unavoidable in life. It is everywhere. And every little piece of language teaches us something about the world – its cultures, its geography, its stories, its components. I have realized that Spanish is a tool, more than anything. It’s a beautiful language attached to many unique cultures, but for me it has also been a tool.

If I didn’t know Spanish, I would not have taken Emiliana Cruz’s Indigenous Languages of Mexico/Guatemala (ANTHRO 397MG) class in 2013, which gave me the opportunity to form a lasting relationship with an exceptional professor and incredible person. The same woman – in fact – that invited me to do research on her indigenous village’s native tongue, Chatino, in the mountains of beautiful Oaxaca. Because I survived Mexico, I knew I could do anything. I had confidence. This, again, is due to Spanish. And I’m thankful for it. And it will continue to be a tool. And I will continue to perfect using this tool (we are not bigger than language), because it has gotten me so far already.

But I’m excited to continue adding tools to my toolbox that will help me describe my world around me. I will continue studying languages – sometimes for a long time, sometimes for a short time – but it will always be a part of my life. Very recently, I have decided that translation is something I want to pursue. It is something to which I want to dedicate myself entirely, and I am confident in the skills I have. And I’m more excited than ever to get working, because I feel properly equipped to navigate my world. I am thankful for the Spanish Major; some classes obviously had their boring moments, but I think that’s more of a reflection on the student than it is the content. And that’s not a necessarily bad thing either. We all learn differently, and we all need to grow up eventually. But let me tell you – I had many incredible moments in my Spanish classes. Moments of clarity, of comedy, and of knowledge. And also moments of confusion, of failure, and of growth. But I am better for it.

To the UMass Spanish and Portuguese Department, Gracias. Obrigado. You have given me so much more than I have been able to give back, but I will continue on with all the tools you gave me, ready in hand.