I took my time as I always do with exams. But this time, I found myself not wanting to turn it in. I wanted to make sure every inch of the exam was reviewed. I didn’t want it to be “over.” Handing in my exam meant being done with undergrad for good. It meant not sitting in the classroom that has fostered so much of my bilingual education. It meant not seeing my Spanish advisor more than twice a week anymore. It meant moving on.
p.s. I did move on eventually. I took my time on Monday, but I did feel prepared. I appreciated the essay questions about what the Native Speakers course taught me. It will be something I bring with me wherever I go: No level or type of Spanish is ungrammatical. Everyone learns and speaks at their own pace. If we, as Latinos, don’t learn about own our individual cultures and heritage, then what will make other people want to care about us? Here’s to the class that I wanted. It became a class that I needed. And I feel so much closure knowing this classroom tied the knot for my academic language-learning. So very fitting.
p.p.s. “It takes a big heart to shape little minds,” and my advisor and professor for the Spanish minor did that for me. Thank you, Profesora Rojas-Sosa!
thewordyou 