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Advisor: Lorena Salcedo-Watson and Martin Levine
I always knew that I didn’t quite connect with my Hispanic roots. I didn’t speak the language, I didn’t actively listen to the music, and I preferred more Western food items at times than my cultural ones. This had seemed like my normal for so long. It’s okay that I can’t fit in with my Hispanic counterparts because maybe my family and I were a little different. It wasn’t until I had an encounter with some of my Hispanic coworkers that I started to second-guess the normalcy of this. Can I really say I’m Hispanic if deep down I feel like I don’t belong?
This thought process and the feeling of my imposter syndrome started to kick in once I started to reflect. When did this change begin? Was I always an outcast?
I realized this biggest change came along with the loss of my grandmother. She was the core that held all of my Hispanic attributes. We communicated by interweaving Spanish and English words, otherwise known as “Spanglish”. It was our special way of communicating and even if I didn’t know exactly the words to respond with, I knew that I could respond in broken Spanish and she would still understand just as I understood her broken English. Once she passed, she took all of my cultural identity with her. I no longer practiced Spanish at home, did not visit extended family members, and no longer participated in my Colombian traditions like saying the Novenas every Christmas and attending church every Sunday. The change was stark but I never realized how much missing out on these things affects my security in my culture.
Social interaction with other Latinos and Latinas made me feel uncomfortable and out of place. This was born out of the insecurity I had developed by not knowing a language that should be native to me. These interactions are always innocent with people asking “Do you speak Spanish”, or “Do you know Spanish” and I always had to sheepishly reveal that despite my appearances, I can’t. After much more thought and becoming more aware of how people of my own race have perceived me, I realized that the biggest source of inner shame came with the fact that I didn’t know a language that many assumed should be native to me. With these thoughts in mind, I decided to create Lost in Translation
Lost in Translation is composed of a series of lithograph prints and paintings that showcase the insecurities that come along with not knowing my native language. As well as the frustration and pain that comes along with not being able to communicate with my loved ones.
My first piece that was the face of my exhibition was my lithograph print How Can I Talk To You? This print shows an unapologetically close-up photo of my open mouth. My tongue is hanging out of my mouth and it is in a literal knot.
There is a level of alienation that comes along with the inability to communicate with others. This can come from strangers, peers, and even family. The language barrier is something that has always prevented me from truly knowing my extended family. It is difficult seeing a loved one after so long, only to meet them with smiles and blank stares. The tied tongue represents this language barrier and inability to communicate with family.
My goal was to show the physical pain of not being able to communicate. The feeling of your own body preventing you from doing something you so desperately want to do. And this mental block comes from my feeling of inadequacy. Like anything else in this world, the more you work on it, the better you will become. But how can I practice it when my body prevents me from trying? Many times that I have tried, I was left with unsuccessful interactions that resulted in shame and embarrassment.
I experimented with other ways of showcasing this image to expand my use of mixed media in printmaking. This variation is printed on raw canvas and then stretched on stretcher bars. The tongue is then printed on hand-dyed fabric and stitched together to create the illusion of the tongue being 3D and malleable. Then hot glue was added to create the pools and drips of saliva.
My painting I Bet They All Stare focuses less on the language aspect and more on the feeling of alienation. It shows me shopping in a Hispanic supermarket, trying to mind my own business and not draw attention to myself. However, all the other customers in the vicinity are looking at me with judgmental eyes.
This feeling of alienation stems from my imposter syndrome and feeling inadequate to step foot in a place like this. I find myself feeling nervous to interact with workers and other shoppers. I judge myself, so I assume others judge me as well, even though I am no different.
My triptych that was a part of this series was one of my more vulnerable pieces out of the whole collection. No Sabo Kid is composed of three Xerox transfer lithographs that show pages of a Spanish-English dictionary. Along with the dictionary, there is the phrase “No Sabo Kid” repeated throughout the whole image through the use of embossing.
I am often posed with the question “Do you know Spanish?” This question is innocent enough. One look at me and it’s safe to assume that I may be bilingual. However, the answer to the question is always: “….well sorta”. My lack of understanding of the Spanish language is always met with a level of criticism from others. I find myself too embarrassed to learn and yet shamed for not learning.
This idea for this piece stemmed from a lot of social interactions I have had out in public. The dictionary acts as a tool for translation and one that I need to rely on. Within the text of all the dictionaries, I have 3 main words being emphasized in Spanish: Saber (to know), Verguenza (embarrassment), and Juicio (judgment). The definitions of the words are then edited to show an interaction between me and another party and the inner dialogue I have with myself in these moments.
The first lithograph starts with the word “Saber” and asks “Do you know Spanish?” This is how many of my interactions have started in places such as work. People will come up to me and ask me this very innocent question but I know that my answer will leave them disappointed at the end.
The next lithograph continues with this sentiment with the word “Verguenza”. After hearing that question and giving the honest answer of “No not really”, I can feel the shame fall upon me. I’ve been lectured by strangers that I should be embarrassed for not knowing. There’s a pride in knowing your language and I didn’t have that. In turn, I wasn’t able to assist them with whatever issue they had since there was a language barrier.
The last print expresses the judgment, “Juicio”, that follows with these lectures. They left me feeling judged for not actively learning this part of my culture and therefore made me feel unworthy to try. This mindset becomes a vicious cycle that has only encored these negative feelings.
The lithographs contain chine-colle using warmer-toned paper to make the text of the dictionary pop from the rest of the print. The embossing was added as a delicate touch to the print. It’s the reminder that I have been labeled as a “no sabo kid”. This is a phrase given to first-generation children who don’t know the language their parents grew up speaking in their home country. The choice to not teach their children their language could be to avoid confusion for the child. It also stems from the parents being forced to assimilate into their new culture, and leaving many aspects of their lifestyle behind.
My next piece Don’t Doubt Yourself (No Dudes De Ti) is about my inner dialogue. One part of me tries to be comforting when I feel like an imposter in my culture. It is reassuring me that I have to stop doubting myself and just try to speak. My other self is trying to understand the words, but since they’re in Spanish, I can’t understand them. And the words come out of my mouth all jumbled and scrambled up.
It can be easy to fall in line with one’s negative thoughts, but it is important to try to give yourself some credit. Only you truly know the turmoil you put your mind through. This print shows me sending myself words of affirmation. “Don’t doubt yourself anymore. I know you can speak”. It is my self-doubt that creates limitations in my mind. It is once I accept these words passed onto myself that I will break through this barrier and allow myself to learn my native language.
When displayed, I had four variations of this print shown next to each other. Alternating between two with legible text, and two with obscured text. The array of prints shows how these words come and go. Some are decipherable and others are blocked by a clouded mind. Regardless the conversation will continue to repeat until I allow myself to accept these words as true.
This print had a fifth variation that was done in watercolor. The watercolor print was placed on a large-scale piece of paper (72″x 30″). This piece was designed to be an interactive piece during my reception. Viewers were instructed to write words of affirmation throughout the page. This was meant to show how everyone should allow themselves to feel how they feel, but at the same time give themselves some credit for what they have done and what they can do.
Throughout my images, I reveal how these insecurities can manifest and create both physical and mental roadblocks. It has established the idea that I am an imposter in my skin; too westernized to engage with people of my culture. The journey it took to develop this work was humbling. I had processed a lot of emotions and faced my feelings of inadequacies head-on. Putting all of this out there made me realize that I’m not alone in feeling this way. My experience can be shared with many first-generation individuals and create a space to have discussions. Not knowing your native language does not mean you are no longer attached to the culture. I have been able to express these self-doubts and reflect on my own experiences. By doing so, I hope to bridge the gap and find solace in my heritage rather than shy away from it. My mental block can be cleared and I can now find newer ways to connect to my roots and my culture.