An
E.F. Hutton moment at the Golden Corral
A couple of years ago, my family converged upon a Golden
Corral restaurant in southeastern Orlando along south Semoran Boulevard for
dinner. My father was a depression era child and is always concerned about
getting enough to eat (and always for a minimal price, mind you). There is
inevitably plenty for vegetarians to eat there so it’s in many ways a perfect
place for family dinners.
The strip on Semoran south of Colonial Drive (SR 50)
where the Golden Corral is located is largely Latino these days. While I was
aware of that, it’s not something that I think much about as I drive down the
highway alternatively reading storefronts and billboards in English and
Spanish. One day my Dad was in the car and I was commenting on a billboard for
lawyers when he said, “Where did you see that?” And I suddenly realized that
after all the years I’d spent in Latin America, Spanish billboards just seemed
pretty routine to me. But not to those who live in small towns outside the
urban centers here in Florida, like my Dad, for whom Spanish is not so much a
constant as the evidence of foreign cultures.
In the restaurant that evening, my brother’s middle kid,
who is known for making wise acre remarks, was telling us about his troubles in
his International Baccalaureate program at his high school. Seems his Spanish
class was his major downfall. Given my love of Latin America, I was confused:
“What is it about the language that you find so difficult?” And to my
astonishment, he replied, “It’s the language of the maids and the janitors. Why
would I want to learn that?”
Like the old E.F. Hutton commercials where everyone
suddenly becomes quiet, listening in hopes of hearing the wisdom of a stock
broker, it was as if time suddenly stood still. Everyone at the table with us
suddenly grew silent. And I began to look around at the nearby tables,
overflowing with loud, joyous Latino families, wondering who had heard that
comment.
The
Sheer Pragmatism of Becoming Multilingual
In all honesty, it was hard for me to contain my anger at
that moment. I love all of my nephews and my one beloved niece dearly. But this
comment hit at another major love in my life – Latin America and its culture.
It also was made in a context which rendered the comment not only philistine in
its stupidity but potentially dangerous.
“Sport, I suggest you look around yourself. Do you notice
that we English speakers are the minority in this place tonight? Might you
consider that comment is more than a little ill-advised under the
circumstances?”
And then I poured it on: “Who are you that you think you
are too good to learn this language, anyway? Does it occur to you that your
father speaks Spanish, your uncle and your aunt speak Spanish? Even your
brother speaks Spanish. What makes you so good that you can’t learn it as
well?”
By then I was cooled down enough to add the practical
reason that might speak to my periodically bone-headed nephew: “Look, honey, if
you’re going to live in Florida, you simply need to learn Spanish, period. You
don’t have to necessarily embrace all things Latin. But Spanish is a survival
skill in this state, whatever you might think about that. And, to be honest,
you probably should learn some French as well since that’s the third most
spoken language in this state these days.”
In all honesty, I doubt much of that penetrated the
cranium of a 19 year old who knows everything there is to know about everything,
having been there myself. But the truth of my own words came back to me this
day in a way totally unexpected.
Indispensable
Information – en Español
I took my car to Sears Auto this morning to have the
tires balanced. As it turns out they all needed replacement. Big surprise,
about $630 worth! But given my plans to not buy another car, it’s an investment
in a survival strategy I’m willing to make.
As I reeled out of Sears at 8:42 AM, book bag in hand, I
hurried up the street running along its western edge, hoping to catch the 8:45
bus to the university. I knew I was running right on the cusp of making that
run and that another would not be around for another hour, a result of recent
cutbacks in public transportation in a city with the highest pedestrian
fatality rate in America.
When I got to the bus stop, a young woman with her two
school children were sitting there. They appeared to be Latino but I did not
want to assume anything. My experience is that most Latinos want to speak
English to you if for no other reason than to reaffirm their commitment to
being in America.
I asked the woman in English if Bus 13 had come. She
shook her head. İ Claro! I thought. So I repeated the question in Spanish. At
first she wasn’t sure what I had asked (whether she was awaiting Bus 13), perhaps
taken back by a Gringo speaking Spanish, but eventually she told me she was
waiting for either of two other buses which also ran this route, neither
numbered 13. So, I specifically asked
“And Bus 13? Has it already come?” “Si, 13 ha passo.” Yes. The 13 bus just came
through here. “Gracias, Señora,” I said and picked up my bag to run over to
Colonial Drive to catch the 104 which was due at 9 AM.
Had I not been able to speak Spanish, I would not have
been able to ask if the bus had already come. And I would have waited, perhaps
past the time I could have caught the only remaining route out to the
university in time for my first morning class. Knowing enough Spanish to ask a
simple question about the bus routes saved my butt this morning.
In
No Way Demeans English
Now I can already hear the Know-Nothings screaming “This
is America, they should learn English!” And, frankly, there is some truth in
that assertion. English is not only America’s primary – though not exclusive –
language, it is the primary language of global business today. So, yes, the
woman on the bench from Central America probably should learn English. And her
two boys will no doubt grow up bilingual.
But, the reality is that Florida – like much of America
today – is not monolingual and hasn’t been since its colonization. Spanish is
spoken in the homes of about 1 out of every 4 Floridians. And Hatian Creole French
is spoken in every 50th home in this state. As I told my nephew, it
is to all Floridians’ advantage to learn these languages if nothing else than for
survival skills, as my own experience this morning exemplifies.
Perhaps more importantly, it is a gift to any human being
who wishes to be fully human to learn other languages. Spanish provides one
with entry into a major chunk of this state and this country’s history. French
provides another point of entry to yet another major chunk. Learning these
languages in no way demeans the English language that virtually all Americans
speak. It simply enriches it.
Thank
You a Todos mis Maestros
This morning, I was grateful to all my Spanish teachers
over all my lifetime who have worked so hard to muster a semi-fluent Spanish
that I can speak, at its peak after a couple of days in a Spanish speaking
country. I thank my next door neighbor Cuban exiles in the frightening days of
the Cuban missile crisis of 1962 who introduced me to Spanish vowels and my
first Spanish words. I thank my patient and tireless Spanish teacher at Citrus
High’s evening program who helped me learn enough words to communicate with my
Spanish speaking students at the middle school in the mid 1970s. I thank the
teaching assistants who did their best with this law student taking Intro
Spanish classes over on the main campus of the University of Florida in the
1980s. And I thank the hundreds of teachers onsite in Latin America in my many
sojourns there over the past decade who have done their best to turn a Spanish
sow’s ear into a semi-fluent silk purse with a modicum of success.
To all my teachers, I say thank you. Thank you for
helping me catch my bus this morning. More importantly, thank you for enriching
my life in ways I never knew possible so many years ago when I was learning
Spanish vowel sounds at a birthday party where my brother and I were the only
children who did not speak the verbal language but were able to communicate in
the very human language of celebration of life which crosses all cultural
boundaries.
A todos - Muchas gracias, maestros estimados. Es una cosa
Buena de vera hablar un poquito de Español (To all of you - Thank you very much, respected teachers. It is
a good thing, indeed, to speak a little bit of Spanish)
No doubt, that’s at best a close approximation.
++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
The Rev. Harry Scott Coverston, J.D., Ph.D.
Member, Florida Bar (inactive status)
Priest, Episcopal Church (Dio. of El Camino
Real, CA)
Instructor: Humanities, Religion, Philosophy
of Law
University of Central Florida, Orlando
If the unexamined life is
not worth living, surely an unexamined belief system, be it religious or
political, is not worth holding.
Most things of value do not lend themselves to production in sound
bytes. ++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
No comments:
Post a Comment