Love shouldn't need subtitles

Hey friend,

My dad once said, “I never thought my grandkids wouldn't speak my language.” 

That always stuck with me. Because language is how we carry love across generations, I refuse to let that love get lost in translation.

After having several grandchildren who didn't speak Spanish, my dad shared this profound disappointment. Though papi spoke English well, it wasn't his first language. That day, I made a decision that would later shape my approach to parenting: my children would speak Spanish.

Here’s the thing: some personality and texture of a person is lost in translation when they're speaking their second language. With papi now passed, I understand this even more deeply.

One thing I often think about when I meet people speaking with accents is how I'm only getting a sliver of who they truly are — maybe 60% of their personality, with the fullness of who they are somewhat hidden behind a language barrier. As someone who's bilingual, I recognize this limitation acutely.

I've witnessed the quiet moments where elders in our family want to connect more deeply with younger generations. Of course, there are many beautiful ways to build relationships across language barriers: through shared experiences, food, music, and the universal language of love. Connection is always possible. But language adds a dimension and depth that's hard to replicate.

This reality was captured perfectly in a TikTok I saw years ago. In it, a grandfather was sitting alone while his grandchildren and adult children laughed and joked in English around him. He didn't speak English; they didn't speak Spanish. There he was, experiencing a subtle separation within his own family by a language barrier. 

That image haunted me. I never wanted that scene to play out with mami or other relatives in the Dominican Republic. 🙅🏽‍♀️

We are intentional about Bella connecting with both sides of her rich heritage. We visit Chicago often, where she stays with her grandparents and visits her great-grandparents on the South Side. We've even considered purchasing a home there to strengthen those roots. Connecting with her Dominican heritage requires that extra layer of language support. We want her to feel at home in both worlds, to inherit the richness of both traditions without having to choose between them.

Being bilingual means living between worlds. I speak Spanish fluently, but I think mostly in English. My dreams float between both languages. My default is English. And yes, when frustration strikes, Spanish flows more naturally.

Research supports what many bilingual families intuitively know. Studies show that bilingual children demonstrate enhanced cognitive flexibility and develop stronger cultural empathy compared to monolingual peers. A separate review found that bilingual children consistently show advantages in perspective-taking tasks.

When it came to raising Bella bilingual, I had to be honest with myself about what I could realistically accomplish. With an African American husband who doesn't speak Spanish, I recognized I couldn't do this alone. That's why I was very intentional about choosing a Spanish immersion school where they speak Spanish 80% of the time; I needed that institutional support.

Our commitment takes shape in other everyday actions too: Spanish music fills our home regularly; we read books in Spanish together—this has been especially powerful; when my mom visits, she speaks exclusively in Spanish with Bella; and I've just signed her up for summer camp in the Dominican Republic.

I've come to understand that ultimately, I can only do so much. She'll have to decide for herself if this is something she values. I've made peace with this reality. Like planting a seed, I can provide the right conditions for bilingualism to flourish, but how it grows will be uniquely hers to determine.

If I'm being honest, it can be exhausting sometimes. We live in an English-dominant world. Many of our friends might be Hispanic but don't necessarily speak Spanish fluently, or, like me, their default is English. Constantly catching myself, switching languages, searching for toddler-appropriate terminology I rarely use—it requires consistent effort.

That said, recently my nephew has given me hope. About three years ago, at 18, he took the initiative to move to the Dominican Republic for a year. He wanted to learn the language and culture on his own terms. Now he's conversational in Spanish and has fallen in love with the culture. And what’s more, he made that choice for himself.

That's ultimately what I want for Bella. Not just the skill of bilingualism, but the choice to embrace her heritage, to connect with familia in their native tongue, and to carry forward the fullness of who we are across languages.

Because when papi said those words—"I never thought my grandkids wouldn't speak my language"—he wasn't just talking about words. He was talking about connection, about being fully known and understood.

That's a legacy worth preserving.

More news you can use

• Love lost in translation

• Every parent knows this level of exhaustion

• Reporting live from Disney

I’m so glad you’re here! If you’re enjoying these emails, here’s how you can continue to support this newsletter:

• Add [email protected] to your contacts so you never miss a beat.

• Secrets don’t keep friends: share this message! Here’s a link to subscribe.

• Connect with me on TikTok, Instagram, YouTube, LinkedIn, and Threads. 

Until Next Time, 

The “This Just In” newsletter may have affiliate links included throughout the email, so if you buy through them, I get a small commission (at no extra cost to you!). I only recommend stuff I truly love, and if it's sponsored, I’ll disclose that it is a brand partnership. Thank you so much for your continued support.