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- Story Listed as: True Life For Teens
- Theme: Drama / Human Interest
- Subject: Life Experience
- Published: 11/26/2017
The Latina mother’s dark eyes stared frustratedly back at mine, as I considered simply forging her signature.
Encompassed by the sweltering Dallas heat — a muggy haze which never fails to make everyone more irritable — I stood face to face with a woman clearly of Hispanic origins. As a resident of the Dallas Life homeless shelter, she was attempting to take advantage of the volunteer-run daycare. The only thing stopping her was me.
Parents have to sign a sheet of paper before leaving their children, a seemingly straightforward task. The job proved to be more difficult when the pen in my outstretched hand was met with a torrent of words I couldn’t comprehend. She was clearly agitated by my inability to understand her rapid-fire stream of Spanish.
It’s important to note that I’d been learning Spanish in school for three years. Despite all those aced vocabulary tests, I could not recall a single word. Never before had I encountered a native speaker or been overwhelmed by a genuine accent. Panic set in. Thoughts spun through my head in a dizzying frenzy, and the walls of the room closed in on me.
I knew that the words I needed were within my reach. I just had to let myself find them.
“Necesitas escribir tu nombre.”
The woman laughed as she realized what I’d been trying to say. Grabbing the pen, she swiftly signed her name.
With those four, crudely spoken words, I momentarily broke through the barrier which separated us.
I and Thou(Kelly McSherry)
The Latina mother’s dark eyes stared frustratedly back at mine, as I considered simply forging her signature.
Encompassed by the sweltering Dallas heat — a muggy haze which never fails to make everyone more irritable — I stood face to face with a woman clearly of Hispanic origins. As a resident of the Dallas Life homeless shelter, she was attempting to take advantage of the volunteer-run daycare. The only thing stopping her was me.
Parents have to sign a sheet of paper before leaving their children, a seemingly straightforward task. The job proved to be more difficult when the pen in my outstretched hand was met with a torrent of words I couldn’t comprehend. She was clearly agitated by my inability to understand her rapid-fire stream of Spanish.
It’s important to note that I’d been learning Spanish in school for three years. Despite all those aced vocabulary tests, I could not recall a single word. Never before had I encountered a native speaker or been overwhelmed by a genuine accent. Panic set in. Thoughts spun through my head in a dizzying frenzy, and the walls of the room closed in on me.
I knew that the words I needed were within my reach. I just had to let myself find them.
“Necesitas escribir tu nombre.”
The woman laughed as she realized what I’d been trying to say. Grabbing the pen, she swiftly signed her name.
With those four, crudely spoken words, I momentarily broke through the barrier which separated us.
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