I WAS LECTURED TODAY

I was lectured by an elderly woman who was curious about my name and accent. She started by asking me why my Mexican parents named me Edwin.

“That’s an American name, you know,” she began. I listened very attentively as she continued with her remarks.

Among other things, she told me that my Mexican accent is very strong when I “tried” to speak English. Once she finished, I asked her if she wanted me to answer her inquiries. She said, “Go ahead.”

“Well,” I said, “I was born in Quetzaltenango, Guatemala. Both of my parents were also from that beautiful country.”

She was curious. “Where in Mexico is Guatemala located?”

I explained to her that Guatemala is an independent country in Central America, and, as a matter of fact, that today marked the one hundred ninety-third anniversary of their independence from Spain — which is in Europe, not in Mexico.

I also explained to her that Edwin is not an American name, but an English one. My father named me after his favorite author Edwin Abbot, the author of Flatland.  Regarding my strong accent, I answered her with one of my quotes.

“To me, English is like a drug addiction; I struggle with it every day.”  I made that remark because I sensed she could relate to that feeling.

I told her that I am proud of my heritage, and that I have many friends from different nationalities, including Americans, who respect me and are not offended by my name or my accent. 

Finally, I told her that I do speak a couple languages, but that “Spanglish” is not one of them.

She left without another word.