Victoria Perez-Zarzecka 

ENGL 11000

Language/Literacy Narrative

Cover Letter:

My audience for my Language/Literacy Narrative are people who have immigrant parents and don’t feel like they have connections to their family culture or language. For a long time I struggled with identity because as a Mexican-Polish woman I felt that I couldn’t fit into either category. However, I always felt more in tune with my Polish side because my mom made it a very strong influence on my childhood. From the language to the food to the holidays, I was actively aware of my Polish heritage. In my younger years the primary language I spoke was Polish. When moving to NYC the strong Polish community I once had was now no longer prevalent. In my narrative I used a strong ethos to engage the audience to my writing emotionally. There were moments of vulnerability, strength, pride, etc. All these emotions worked to serve my connection with the audience. The most meaningful insight I’ve learned from this phase was the connection between language and identity. Being able to reflect on my relationship with my language allowed me to take pride in the obstacles I’ve overcome. It also helped me to connect with my Polish roots. This assignment proved to help me embrace the different parts of me; the parts I used to be ashamed of I realized are very common problems many 1st generation kids face. Through writing this narrative context was a concept I had to keep in mind. I needed the audience to be immersed in my story and place themselves in my shoes. I tried to write my story with some imagery inducing language. Including details such as the architecture in Poland to the scent my babcia carries. I knew that writing a personal narrative meant getting down to the fine details. To connect with my audience I needed to give them honesty and also a sense of pride in coming from different cultures. I wanted to cast strength and beauty on the people that related to my story. One goal I feel I accomplished from the course learning outcomes was seeing the influence that our attitude can have towards linguistic empowerment or oppression. From both my story and the others I heard in the class I realized that when we are put through division and erasure of our mother tongue it can induce stress and feelings of misplacement. Whereas when we have a supportive community that helps us embrace our diversity it can make us feel proud and empowered of our many voices. To sum up, this narrative allowed me to view the power language holds on to our identities, and the importance it has in our childhood as well as future endeavors. 

Language/Literacy Narrative

My relationship with the Polish language started at birth. Ever since I can remember my mother spoke to me in her native language. Before learning to speak myself I was already immersed in the sound of the Polish dialect. My first words, probably Mama and Tata (dad), were imitating the sound of my mom’s voice. I was born in Queens, and my memories of that time are mostly dependent on the accounts of my parents and older sister; not really my own. At age 3 my mom moved my older sister, younger brother, and I to Gdansk, Poland. This is the setting of some of my finest childhood memories. We moved in with my grandparents, my babcia (grandma) and dziadek (grandpa). For those two years they were my primary caretakers since my mom was usually busy with work. They taught me how to ask for food, and how to tell them I needed to use the bathroom; my pronunciation mimicked theirs. The sounds around me consisted of the Slavic tongue, long consonants and short vowels. It completely engrossed me, from the t.v cartoons i’d watch to the conversations I’d have with my friends in preschool. As children are programmed to be, I had minimal perception of the past and the future, it kept me living in the moment, never stopping to think what would be next. Maybe during the last few months of our stay in Poland my mom became more insistent on practicing my English with me. Her continuous attempts never induced me to any sense of urgency. I was oblivious to the massive change approaching that would change the course of my future. 

At 5 years old I moved to Brooklyn and that Fall I started attending elementary school. I had always been a somewhat reserved kid, but the complete shift in environments pushed me into a shell that prevented me from using my words. I remember my first grade teacher who had a very thick Russian accent, always calling me out to answer questions. Of course she knew that I had the correct answer. I was a very bright student and it was reflected in all the assignments I handed in, though when it came to participating I was always the last one to raise my hand. Over the course of elementary school I attended many after school programs, sometimes spending more time with my peers than my family. It may have contributed to my advancement in English.  At home my mom spoke strictly in Polish with my siblings and I. For a time it was something that was reciprocated. I can’t pinpoint the exact time when we stopped answering in Polish, it was a more gradual happening. Through the years I became more comfortable speaking in English and without enforcement or question from anyone to speak anything besides it I became more knowledgeable in the language. Additionally, it was taught to me that there was more and more I needed to learn about the language, vocabulary and grammar were lessons that were taught to me daily. Homework and tests to measure my progress were presented and I worked to accomplish them. In turn I was rewarded for my English in school. A Pluses, check marks, happy faces, and my favorite, scented stickers. All were used to repay me for my studying and understandment, it also worked on me as an incentive to further my capabilities. In this new world of mine English was the norm, there was no need for my Polish any longer. Besides, at the time most of my friends didn’t even know the Polish country. Many times I come to think that if I had a bit more exposure to a Polish community in my childhood I would have a bigger motivation to practice it. However as a kid I didn’t understand the importance of speaking a second language and how I’d regret neglecting my Polish voice. 

            My mother was my sole influence, she pushed my siblings and I to practice our Polish, scared that we would lose the language of her home. Whenever she reminded me I would try my best to respond in Polish. “Czy możecie gadać po polsku” This plead of her’s failed to become a habit as I usually had trouble finding the right words. Asking my mom how to say this and how to say that became tiring and I’d get annoyed of struggling. Still when my mom asks me to talk more Polish I try my hardest to pick my brain and find the words needed to communicate with her. 

            In 5th grade I visited Poland for the first time since moving back to NY.  I don’t remember the journey all that well but I do know the unwavering nervousness I felt on the plane taking me to Gdańsk Airport. My capabilities of speaking Polish were on a completely different level and my biggest fear was that I wouldn’t have the ability to communicate with the family I love and was so eager to see. I tried to seek comfort in the fact that my mom was with us and could translate for me need be. When we arrived at the airport my babcia was there to greet us. I haven’t seen her in person since I was 5 years old and now I was 10. My dziadek wasn’t there to greet us since he passed the year before and it felt like there was a missing piece to the puzzle. Still, seeing my babcia brought up all kinds of emotions and when we went into a swallowing hug the familiar scent of fresh laundry she carried aroused so many memories. In that moment any fear I held of not being able to communicate with her went out the window and the love we had for each other replaced it. We drove through the familiar neighborhood I dreamed of seeing again. It was a surreal experience for me when we entered the apartment, so distinct and reminiscent of the communist architecture. I remember entering through the hallway and everything seemed to be exactly as it was 5 years ago. Our 5 pairs of shoes were added to the baring shoe rack that only held my babcia’s few pairs. Before even taking off my jacket I hear her voice telling us to head to the table to eat. As we gather around the table my babcia goes into a prayer and my instincts take over. I start to recite the sign of the cross in Polish. Not confident with my pronunciation, I mumble it hoping my voice camouflages with my mom and older sister’s. Throughout the weeks I keep my responses limited, not expanding on my thoughts or opinions. I wanted to contribute to the conversation and feel like part of the family again. The relationship I had with my family was undoubtedly different and it was because of my inability to communicate with them. I decided that I wanted to at least try, I needed to allow myself to fail and make mistakes. What was going to develop my Polish was my commitment to practicing and being patient with myself. 

I soon realized that my family was very forgiving of my vocabulary and pronunciation. They wouldn’t make me feel like I needed to get better, they just took what they heard and did their best to understand. In fact my two older cousins even tried to speak in English to make it easier for me and my younger siblings to understand. Their English was a lot more fluent than our Polish and so this pushed me to engage with them more. However I wasn’t going to be able to use that strategy with my other family members because their English was limited and my babcia’s, non-existent. I would love to say that by the end of the trip I managed to break through my fear of making mistakes and I started incorporating Polish in my everyday life to the point of fluency. That would be the dream, but it’s certainly not the reality. I still hold restrictions to what I will attempt when speaking and I forget to practice my Polish majority of the time. However, I have been more conscious of the fact that I want to improve this skill of mine and master it. I remind my mom to speak Polish with me and when I have questions of vocabulary or conjugation I’m never afraid to ask. Through the years I have attained values for culture and diversity. I strongly believe we all thrive in environments that encourage native tongues, and educate cultural practices/traditions. Because of this value, I want to bring forward my cultures and my parents’ stories. Maybe it’s because I’m American I sometimes feel that I have a deprivation of culture, and I reach for my parents’ to offer a new diverse voice. Though I know that my story is both unique and familiar to many people I have appreciated all that I come from and am proud of the obstacles I’ve overcome. When it comes to communication it is the most inspiring to hear all types of voices and accents.