I want to tell you a story about growing up in the Valley, and why I never taught you Spanish.
When I was little, we lived in San Carlos, TX, right outside of Edinburg. My parents, your Grandma Ofelia and Grandpa Joe, worked long hours, so most days I stayed with my grandparents in Edcouch. Their neighborhood was called El Rincón del Diablo, the Devil’s Corner. It had a bad reputation, but for me, it was just where I spent my childhood. The scariest things weren’t gangs or anything like that. It was the stray dogs. They ran the streets, barking and chasing kids around. And in a way, those dogs kept us out of trouble and close to home. We didn’t wander too far, and maybe that’s what kept us away from whatever had given the neighborhood its name.
When Uncle Ray and I wanted adventure, we’d walk along the railroad tracks and head out to the canal. Those places felt like whole new worlds, even though they weren’t far. My Grandpa even built us a treehouse in a big mesquite tree, and that became our hideout.
When we were tired of playing outside, my Grandma and Grandpa would put on PBS, and I’d sit in front of Sesame Street. That’s where we started learning English. Big Bird and The Count taught me my ABCs in a home where almost nobody spoke English.
The Valley was divided back then, not by money, but by language. People that spoke Spanish sometimes felt like they didn’t belong in the bigger world outside of the Valley. If you spoke English too well, people would think that you weren’t loyal to your own culture. Kids like me were caught in the middle. In the Valley, the divide wasn’t rich versus poor. It was Spanish versus English.
That struggle over language has a long history. In the late 1960s, students in Edcouch-Elsa walked out of school to protest unfair treatment. They were punished for speaking Spanish and told they weren’t good enough. Those walkouts weren’t just about speaking a language, they were about respect, dignity, and claiming your place in the world. The students who walked out of class made a real difference. All across the country, politicians took notice. The waive of activism caused the English speakers, white people, of Edcouch-Elsa to leave and move to the bigger cities like McAllen and Harlingen. The Spanish-speakers won!
Then cable TV came along, and that changed everything. Suddenly, kids in the Valley were watching the same shows as kids in New York and California, like MTV, CNN, ESPN, and HBO. English became something kids wanted, not just something teachers forced.
And now that the internet has shown up, the Valley is no longer cut off. That four-hour drive to San Antonio used to feel like the edge of the world, like we were separated from the rest of the country. Now kids in Edcouch can play video games with kids in California or follow the same TikTok trends as kids in New York.
Here’s the truth: I didn’t teach you Spanish because I didn’t feel like I had to. We don’t live in the Valley. Your mom doesn’t speak it. I’ve always been comfortable in English, and life worked that way. But Spanish is still part of who I am and who you are too, even if you don’t realize it yet.
I love that you hear Spanish in the music we play. You sing along, even if you don’t understand the words, and that makes me smile. You’re feeling it, living it, even without knowing the meaning. That’s the Valley in you.
Here’s the thing I really want you to remember: it’s never too late to learn. Language is something you can choose to embrace at any time. If you put in the effort, you can connect with your history, your family, and your culture in a whole new way. Spanish, or any language you decide to learn, isn’t just about words. It’s a bridge to the past and a door to the rest of the world. You just have to commit to it.
The Valley made me who I am, running away stray dogs in El Rincón del Diablo, walking on the train tracks, learning English from Sesame Street, watching cable open up the world, and later seeing the internet shrink the distance to everywhere. Spanish and English have always tugged at each other, shaping people, shaping communities in the Valley, shaping me. And that history is part of you too.
So if you decide to learn Spanish, or any language, know that it’s a choice you can make anytime, and it’s yours to take.
Love,
Dad
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