How College Changed My Experience as a Bilingual Latina

I’ve always lived in two languages: English and Spanish. Growing up in California with Chilean parents, and later moving to Boulder, Colorado, I picked up both languages simultaneously. For a long time, though, I kept them separate.

In my early years, I spoke English outside and Spanish at home. After my dad finished his PhD, we moved to Santiago, Chile, where my world became fast-paced Chilean Spanish, while English stayed tied to music, TV, and playing games with my sisters. My parents wanted us to keep our English skills, so they sent us to a bilingual school. Until fourth grade, most classes were in English, and Spanish was reserved for playtime and chatting.

When I was 16, we moved back to Boulder. I felt ready: I was fluent in English, had good grades, and even reached out to the softball coach at my new school, eager to join the JV team despite having no experience. I was confident, but I soon realized that speaking a language isn’t enough to fit into a new culture.

I knew I’d struggle with slang and casual conversations since my English was mostly from school. What surprised me was the pressure to prove my intelligence to both teachers and classmates. Many focused on how I spoke rather than what I said, pointing out grammar mistakes instead of listening to my ideas. One moment that stuck with me was when a classmate questioned how I ended up in AP U.S. History while tutoring her in chemistry. I wish I had reacted differently, but I was too stunned. I just said I was used to advanced classes, and that was that. Her comment, though not meant to hurt, still resonates with me.

Despite these experiences, I chose to stay in Boulder for college at the University of Colorado Boulder. I was grateful for the diversity there. Even though it’s mostly a white institution, my classes included people of different backgrounds, allowing me to embrace both sides of my identity, including my languages.

Entering college, I wondered if I’d ever write in Spanish since my academic work was always in English. For a while, I did stick to English, as workshops focused solely on that language. But last year, I wrote a short novel for my honors thesis about a character moving from Chile to Colorado, and I wanted to include Spanish in the story. It felt right to reflect my character’s experience authentically. I asked my advisor if I could do this, and she encouraged me.

Once I realized I could mix languages in my writing, I began to do the same in everyday life, and it changed everything. After living in Colorado for six years, I had clear language boundaries: Spanish was for home, where I talked to my family and expressed my emotions, while English was for friends, school, and planning my day.

Over the past year, I’ve started using Spanish beyond home. I incorporate familiar phrases into conversations, which has surprisingly strengthened my relationships. My Netflix lineup now includes both *La Casa de Papel* and *Brooklynn 99*, and my music taste blends Chappell Roan with Bon Jovi. In my literature classes, I reference authors like Don Quixote and Pablo Neruda, even if I have to translate. Breaking down the barriers I once had has been liberating. I’ve always lived in two languages, and allowing them to blend is truly a beautiful experience.

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