I grew up in Newark, New Jersey – a city known for its heavy population of immigrants from every corner of the world. I grew up speaking fluent English and Haitian Creole in my household and a passive speaker of Spanish as my father was a fluent speaker – though we didn’t live together after I was five. By middle school, I was Mr. Corrales‘, my Spanish teacher from 4-8th grade’s, inner-city success story. He had finally taught una negrita how to speak Spanish and threw me into multiple conversations with native speakers who would just come to our school from countries like Honduras and Nicaragua. Of course, he and my schoolmates weren’t aware that I had been exposed to the language my entire life. But it didn’t matter to anyone, because for a black girl in Newark, New Jersey, speaking Spanish was impossible. Continue reading →