About a month ago, I finally bit the bullet and began attending a Hispanic Bible study our church supports.  It’s a group that’s been meeting for a couple of years now, and Fred and I were invited to come; but we never had because we knew we wouldn’t fit in very well.  However, as I mentioned in a prior post, we haven’t been all that connected to Hispanic/Latino folks in our area aside from those the boys and I have met while out shopping every week.  And it was time to try something more proactive.

I went to the first meeting with what could best be described as a feeling of dread.  I’m not really a shy person, but I’m not that good at not being good at things.  And I am not good at speaking Spanish!  So I was a little bit terrified that I would be received with something resembling “What are you doing here you silly white girl?”

But we went anyway, the twins and I.  Yes, I hid behind my children as my ticket to legitimacy.  And yes, I did overhear a few comments about how we were all “gringos.”  In Spanish.  No harm meant, I’m sure, but there it was: my fear realized.  I don’t “match.”  I’ll never be a Latina.  And because my sons are being raised by Fred and me, they’ll never exactly match, either.  They’ll look Latino and sound Anglo. 

But somehow, once I actually experienced what I had been fearing, it wasn’t so bad.  There it was; the truth.  But on the other hand, I knew I was trying.  Trying to connect my children with people of their cultural background, trying to connect myself with people of my kids’ cultural background.  Trying to find a way for all of us to learn Spanish.  And yeah, it was dumb and useless that I took French in school, but I didn’t know that at the time, and I’m doing my best to make the switch now.  So instead of a crushing blow, I decided to frame it as a challenge and do the work to fit in.

I can’t say I feel totally comfortable now.  I want to respect the context of the group and limit my use of English, so consequently I don’t say much (anyone who knows me well, knows this is not the normal me).  But the cool thing is this leaves me with one option: asking questions that get the others in the group to give me long answers (thus saving me from having to talk and also allowing me to get to know their stories at the same time).  And wow, what a cool few friendships I’m making already!  I can’t wait till I have use of more words to express myself there.  But in the meantime, maybe it’s more useful to the others there that I’m nothing if not a space where they can express what’s going on in their lives?

I’m hopeful.  And very appreciative.  Because tonight I noticed there were no comments anymore.  No whispered questions between other members of the group as to whether I had “had” my kids or adopted them.  The core members know, and somehow that’s proven to be sufficient.  I’m in.  Yes, I struggle and my pronunciation of the little bit of Spanish that I do know is off at times.  But I’ve been accepted.  And that’s a great testimony to the graciousness of this group of people who have – I know – had many negative experiences with people who look like me, both in their native countries and here in the U.S.

I’m still “la gringa,” but a welcome one.  Good thing because I’ve had a sense for a while now that this is where I belong.  No idea what God is going to do with it, but I’m growing to love this group, my sons’ people becoming my own.