Romeo's Mulitmodal Autobiography

This autobiography of my literacy journey is structured as a timeline within a book, divided into two sections: the blue (top) section focuses on my literacy development in the English language, while the red (bottom) section highlights my journey with the Spanish language. Each page captures a specific period in my life where I relied heavily on certain discourses based on the environments I spent most of my time in, spanning from before my formal education to my K-12 years, and concluding with my time here at the University of California - Berkeley. I explore the evolving relationship I have had with both languages, focusing on my use, the effect of education methods and policies, and how these relationships have changed over time. Most of the images included are pictures from my camera roll that have been cropped. They are from the approximate period of time I’m discussing in each attached written section, reflecting both the subjects and the contexts being described. For example, when discussing the influence my siblings had on my English literacy before I started school, I included a photo of my siblings and me during that time period that I am discussing. I aim to create an interactive timeline that combines relevant images, written reflections, and videos to provide a richer, more engaging autobiographic narrative. Each pulsating image contains a written explanation that provides context for the image, showing how it connects to my timeline. Make sure to click every image that pulsates! These written sections also draw connections to theorists from our class readings, as they relate to my personal literacy journey and experiences. I reference Gee’s theories on primary and secondary discourses and identity kits, De los Ríos and Seltzer’s work on translanguaging, Bakhtin’s theory of heteroglossia, Karen Leung’s TED Talk on embracing multilingualism, and Trevor Noah’s insights from Born a Crime about growing up mixed in South Africa. These references help frame my personal narrative within a broader academic context. Additionally, I’ve included links to videos that offer further insight into the moments and themes explored in my timeline. Once you’ve finished exploring all the aspects of a page, please continue navigating forward by clicking the arrow on the bottom right of each page. The timeline is divided into the following chapters… 1. Learning My Primary Discourse ~ Before Kindergarden (Ages 0 to 5) 2. Developing My Secondary Discourse ~ Kindergarden to 3rd Grade (Ages 5 to 8) 3. A New Secondary Discourse ~ 3rd Grade to Middle School (Ages 8 to 14) 4. Another Secondary Disourse ~ Beginning of High School (Ages 14 to 16) 5. A Robust Tool Kit ~ Finishing High School (Ages 16 to 18) 6. Reinforcing (M)y Discours(e)s ~ UC Berkeley (Ages 18 to Present) Each chapter highlights key moments in my literacy journey. Enjoy!

INTRODUCTION PAGE

on use of multimodality

Authorial Intent

• English Literacy Timeline
• Cronología de mi Conocimiento Español

Learning My Primary Discourse

Before Starting School

Dia De Los Tres Reyes

Dia De Los Muertos

Developing My Secondary Discourse

Kindergarten to 3rd Grade

A New Secondary Discourse

Elementary to Middle School

Ironic!

Outsider

Imposter!

Scared

Another Secondary Discourse

Starting High School

A Robust Tool Kit

FInishing High School

B E A R S

G O

Reinforcing (M)y Discours(e)s

University of California Berkeley

• Bachtin, Michail M. The Dialogic Imagination. University of Texas Press, 2000.
• De Los Ríos, CV, et al. Translanguaging, Coloniality, and English Classrooms: An Exploration of Two Bicoastal Urban Classrooms. eScholarship, University of California, 2017.
• Fields, Ed, and Daniel Hall. America The Story of Us, 25 Apr. 2010.
• Gee, James Paul. WHAT IS LITERACY? Boston University , 1999.
• Leung, Karen, director. Embracing Multilingualism and Eradicating Linguistic Bias | Karen Leung | TEDxWWU. Youtube, 2018, https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=S8QrGsxeEq8.
• Nava, Gregory, director. Selena - The Movie. Warner Bros. Pictures, 1997.
• Noah, Trevor. Born a Crime: And Other Stories. MacMillan, 2016.
• Spanish, Butterfly, director. What’s the Difference between Spanish in Mexico, Latin America, and Spain? Youtube, 2017, https://www.youtube.com/watch?app=desktop&v=r_-L12lprWE.

The End

Works Cited

One memory stands out vividly from that trip. At a family reunion lunch, I met one of my older cousins for the first time. She complimented me, telling me how handsome I had become, and I timidly replied, “Gracias.” It was such a simple word, quickly uttered, yet her face lit up as she exclaimed, “¡Ay, cómo amo tu acento! ¡Suenas tan… cómo se dice… Americano-Mexicano!” I was shocked that my limited and awkward Spanish still revealed so much about me. Based solely on my accent, my cousin, who had little knowledge of Mexican-American culture, could tell that I was Mexican but also had been evident linguistic influence by my life in the United States. This memory connects well to Mikhail Bakhtin's theory of Heteroglossia which he discusses in The Dialogic Imagination, which posits that multiple languages, styles of discourse, or perspectives can coexist within a single language. (Bakhtin, 1935, Pg. 73) In my case, both Mexican and American cultural influences were present in the way I spoke Spanish, shaped by my identity kit and the dominant discourse of Chicanismo that surrounded me back home in the United States. The way I said the simple word "gracias" revealed to my cousin not just my linguistic abilities, but the blend of discourses and cultural influences I embodied and how I contrasted the discourses of my new surroundings in Spain.

Due to my efforts to speak only English, I reserved speaking Spanish for situations where it was absolutely necessary, like when I had to communicate with distant relatives who spoke only Spanish. My abuelitos lived in San Jose, and whenever we visited, I would speak to them in Spanish. However, as I grew older, I gradually spoke less and less with them, managing to frame it as just becoming more shy with age. Many of my father’s siblings also immigrated from Mexico in the mid-90s, bringing their families and settling in the East Bay. Since they were relatively new to the country, I had to speak with my tías, tíos, and primos mostly in Spanish. Still, I often tried to avoid lengthy conversations with them because it meant using more Spanish—something I had been distancing myself from to focus on speaking English for academic purposes. This avoidance became a pattern, as I increasingly separated my home language from my academic and social life.

My early childhood literacy development aligns with Professor James Paul Gee’s theory on Discourses, particularly how I acquired my "Primary Discourse" through socialization with my family in Spanish. Gee explains that a Discourse can be thought of as an "identity kit" that comes with the appropriate language, behavior, and roles that help us navigate social contexts (Gee, 1989, p. 18). My parents provided me with my first "identity kit" by passing down their own understanding of language. Since my mother and father spoke different dialects of Spanish, they each offered me distinct ways to understand and use the same language. For example, my mother’s use of the word "coger" as a neutral verb contrasted with my father’s interpretation of it as something inappropriate, depending on the cultural context. This experiece illustrates Gee’s distinction between "acquisition" and "learning." I wasn’t explicitly taught these differences; rather, I acquired them naturally by observing how language was used in different contexts. I picked up on these nuances intuitively, learning to navigate two dialects without formal instruction almost “subconsciously."

SpongeBob (The Sea Creature that Helped Me Learn English): From my perspective, the world shifted from being predominantly Spanish-speaking, with a few English moments, to being entirely in English. I even switched the kinds of cartoons I watched—moving from Spanish-language shows I used to enjoy with my parents to English-only ones on Nickelodeon and Disney Channel, with the exception of Dora the Explorer. Watching these shows also helped me connect with friends, as I remember inviting them over to watch them with me.

During my late elementary and middle school years, I spoke only English. I thought my efforts had paid off, as I was doing extremely well academically. In middle school, I attended a predominantly Latinx school, where most students were first-generation Mexican-Americans like me. Interestingly, many of my peers also couldn't speak Spanish. This was likely the result of elementary schools in the area placing such a strong emphasis on speaking only English, as Seltzer and de los Rios explained did occur through heavy English-only education policing (Seltzer & de los Ríos, 2017, p. 55), which caused most of us to stop using Spanish altogether. However, something that their theory doesn’t cover is how students like me who have been “devalued” and stripped of our culture in academic settings bond and create a new type of shared identity based on this experience. Similar to how African-American culture formed after the stripping of African ancestral culture in the Americas.

I started Kindergarten speaking mainly Spanish, but I was strongly encouraged to begin speaking more English. According to Gee's theory this is were I started to develop my secondary discourse, in/with English.I remember reading report cards that said, "Romeo is making great progress in math and reading, but I'd like him to work more on speaking English." As a student who always wanted to excel academically and as a self-admitted teacher’s pet I was determined to make my teacher proud. I pushed myself to speak only English at school, and if I couldn’t, I chose not to speak at all. Half of my class also spoke Spanish, which made it difficult for me to interact with some of them since they didn’t understand much English. But I was committed to my goal, and I genuinely believed that speaking Spanish would make me seem less intelligent or "unacademic." Because of this, I only spoke to classmates who could understand English, even though I was fully capable of speaking Spanish. I feared disappointing my teacher, which, in my mind, meant not speaking Spanish at all.

As stated below, the demographics of my high school starkly contrasted with those of my middle school, consisting primarily of affluent white students. This shift in demographic composition rendered the secondary discourse I had cultivated over the years less effective for forming connections and interacting with my peers. The “Mexican-American” discourse I had developed no longer facilitated communication; instead, my classmates had their own discourses shaped by different school experiences that I wasn't well-versed in. This is why I found solace in my AVID class, which was a smaller group of students who shared similar backgrounds and experiences as I did and felt equally as out of place in this new environment as I did. Together, we became a stabilizing presence within the academic community, helping one another navigate and adapt to the new dominant discourse we had found ourselves in.

These experiences strongly resonate with the research of Cati V. de los Ríos and Kate Seltzer in their case study Translanguaging, Coloniality, and English Classrooms: An Exploration of Two Bicoastal Urban Classrooms. In their study, they discuss the theory of translanguaging, which challenges the idea of separate languages and instead considers that individuals possess a single linguistic repertoire where features of different "named languages" interact and blend based on social context. In my life, I was discouraged from practicing translanguaging during my early education, as I feared being perceived as unintelligent for not adhering to the "dominant discourse", in this case, speaking only English. De los Ríos and Seltzer highlight how Latinx youth have historically been subjected to both legal and informal forms of segregation in schools, where colonialist curricula continue to strip students of their cultural, racial, and linguistic identities. As they note, “forms of ‘subtractive schooling’ persist and often portray Latinx children as lacking so-called dominant forms of language and cultural capital, locating educational inequalities in ‘deficiencies’ in students’ communities rather than in structural systems of power" (Seltzer & de los Ríos, 2017, p. 60). These policies, which marginalized the use of Spanish and enforced a shift to primarily English, effectively devalued students like me and perpetuated colonial mentalities that viewed non-English languages as inferior.

However, I still didn't feel fully embraced within this discourse. I was also half-Spanish, and it wasn't until we learned more about world history in middle school that I began to feel ashamed of that part of my heritage. Some of my peers made jokes or unsavory comments about Spain’s colonial past, often under the guise of humor, though it was clear there were underlying feelings. Even though they accepted me as Mexican-American, this difference made me feel out of place once again. I started downplaying my Spanish heritage, opting to tell people I was just Mexican. Around this time, I became fixated on learning the differences between Spanish and Mexican cultures, dialects, and accents. It was a challenge because, until then, I had seen my Spanish-speaking identity as a monolith. Now, I felt the need to dissect my heritage into two separate categories, Mexican and Spanish, in order to downplay my Spanish background and fully embrace my Mexican roots, hoping to gain greater acceptance among my peers as a more "authentic" Mexican-American. I was now once again attempting to hide or erase one of my discourses. Ironically, in this situation even though the Spanish-Colonial culture is deemed as “superior” in colonial contexts because the dominant discourse of my academic setting was being Mexican-American having this cultural identity in my opinion was inferior and “othering”.

Speaking "Mexican" vs. "Spain-ish"Despite sharing a common language, my parents spoke distinct dialects of Spanish, influenced by their different countries of origin. This was further amplified by the fact that neither had a formal education, so their speech reflected very regional and colloquial forms of Spanish rather than the more standardized, academic variety. As a result, I grew up with a unique blend of accents and vocabulary. For instance, my mother’s Spanish had the characteristic Castilian “lisp,” so when she said “corazón,” it sounded more like “cora-th-on,” while my father’s pronunciation followed the Mexican norm. These dialectal differences extended beyond pronunciation to vocabulary as well. I remember once calling my neighborhood friends “gilipollas,” a word from Spain that loosely translates to “idiots.” However, this term isn’t used in Latin American Spanish, so they didn’t take offense—they simply didn’t understand what I was saying. Similarly, my father would get frustrated when my mother used the verb “coger,” which in Mexico has a very different, inappropriate meaning compared to its common usage in Spain, where it simply means “to pick up.” As a child, I was unaware of these linguistic nuances. To me, Spanish was just Spanish, a single, unified language. I assumed my friends didn’t understand certain words because they either hadn’t learned them yet or didn’t speak much Spanish. It wasn’t until later that I realized the rich complexity and diversity within the language Click this link to watch a video that explains the differences in more depth -->

Traveling to the Motherland: Toward the end of middle school, my mom decided to take me to Spain to visit her relatives I hadn’t seen since I was a baby. This sparked a subtle shift in my attitude toward Spanish. I was about to spend the summer in a country where everyone spoke the language I had been trying so hard to suppress in order to fit in back home. Now, all of those efforts to conform were about to make me stand out. It might have been a survival instinct, but I remember putting a lot of effort into learning about Spanish culture from my mom and the internet. I tried to familiarize myself with the Spanish accent by watching TV shows from Spain, hoping I wouldn’t be completely lost in conversations. Once we arrived in Spain, my relatives thought I was mute because I barely spoke. I stuck to just four phrases: “sí,” “no,” “yo no sé,” and “gracias.”

It was my experience in high school Spanish which is the reason why Karen Leung’s TED talk resonated with me. In the talk, she discusses how immigrants learning English are often looked down upon, while English speakers are celebrated for being multilingual. Leung emphasizes the harm and absurdity of terms like “broken” and directives such as “Speak American” and elaborates how such language not only devalues the rich cultural heritage that accompanies bilingualism but also reinforces a double standard in society. Many immigrants experience associated shame as they learn English, often feeling that their efforts are scrutinized and deemed inadequate. This is a similar shame I felt in my early childhood education for simply knowing Spanish as I was learning English. This perception creates an unjust narrative around their linguistic journeys, highlighting the need for a more inclusive understanding of language that celebrates diversity rather than stigmatizes it. This is why I’m glad new policies are being passed that celebrate multilingualism, as I would have benefitted tremendously in that type of non-stigmatized education system. This experience in high school made me wonder why the education system had beaten my native tongue out of me, making me feel academically inferior as a child, yet now, as a teenager, I was expected to relearn that same language alongside peers who were celebrated for their linguistic skills, something I had been discouraged from embracing in my early years. Even though I was speaking Spanish again at school, I refrained from using it with my family, fearing the judgment they might have regarding my accent and pronunciation. I didn’t want them to know that I “spoke Spanish like the white kids in my class.”

A Picture of my Parents: I was born into a Spanish-speaking family in the South Bay Area in 2004. Both of my parents were immigrants—my father from Mexico, who arrived in the late 1970s, and my mother from Spain, who came in the late 1980s. By the time I was born, both had lived in the United States for 20 to 30 years and had a good command of English. However, they chose to speak only Spanish at home, as it was their native tongue and felt more comfortable to them, so I too learned to speak mainly in Spanish from them.

Discovering the Chicano Identity: My peers and I bonded over our shared identity of being Mexican-American. While we may not have spoken Spanish, we understood each other’s culture and what it meant to belong to that culture in the United States. Additionally, the rise of the internet and social media culture profoundly influenced the way we communicated, shaped our humor, and bonded over music, adding another layer to our shared identity. For the first time, I began to bridge the gap between being proud of my Mexican heritage and being American. I realized I could value both cultures and embrace the unique discourse this mixture created, which I shared with my peers. This became a new identity toolkit that I could use in both social and academic settings.

By third grade, I discovered a history show on the History Channel about the formation of the United States, sparking my interest in history and politics. It also made me focus more on my American identity, leading me to disregard many aspects of my ethnic culture in favor of mainstream American traditions. This show had effects on my "Identity Tool Kit" as according to Gee. I didn’t care to celebrate Día de los Muertos or Día de los Reyes anymore—I just wanted to dress up as Woody from Toy Story on Halloween and make sure I got the best Christmas presents to brag about. I even remember feeling angry that we opened our presents at midnight on Christmas Eve. I couldn’t understand why Santa didn’t bring them overnight like I saw on TV, where kids would wake up to presents. Instead of appreciating getting them earlier, I felt frustrated that my family was celebrating Christmas "incorrectly." Here is a link to watch the trailer of the eye-opening show. -->

My Siblings: Another significant influence on my Primary Discourse during childhood came not only from my parents, as discussed below, but also from my older siblings and neighborhood friends. As the youngest of five siblings, with an age gap ranging from 7 to 17 years, I grew up around siblings who had already spent years navigating school and learning English in the United States. Having grown up in the 1980s and 1990s, they often communicated in a mix of Spanish, English, or "Spanglish," reflecting their own language experiences. Although I primarily spoke Spanish with my siblings, since that was the language my parents used at home, I frequently heard them speaking English to each other. Over time, I started to pick up and use some English when talking to them.

This secondary discourse started to slowly bleed into my home life, infiltrating the language of my primary discourse. Since my siblings spoke English, I began speaking only English with them. Even with my parents, who had lived in the United States long enough to understand English, I switched to speaking mostly English. My neighborhood friends were going through a similar process, and we all transitioned to speaking exclusively in English around the same time.

Neighborhood Friends: My transition into speaking more English accelerated when I began playing outside with neighborhood kids. About half of them were non-Spanish speakers, which required me to use more English. However, with the other half, who spoke Spanish, we often spoke a blend of the two languages, another version of Spanglish, since we felt more comfortable using elements of both our native tongues. This also relates to Gee’s theory of primary discourses because when I would play with my English-speaking friends I would acquire words and phrases from them through play, they weren’t necessarily teaching me.

Losing Touch With Abuelos: At this point, I spoke almost no Spanish. While I understood it fairly well, I avoided speaking it at all costs—whether with relatives or even cashiers at taco trucks. When I did try to speak, it felt awkward and disjointed, which was a strange sensation considering Spanish was technically my native language. This realization saddened me, as I began to feel distant from my grandparents. I also felt a growing disconnect from my aunts, uncles, and cousins. The thought of attending family events filled me with dread; I feared they would notice how much my Spanish had deteriorated. In fact, I sometimes preferred not seeing them at all to avoid confronting any negative feelings. Although I had found acceptance within my secondary discourse community, I was gradually isolating myself from my primary discourse community in the process.

Ski Trip with my ASB Class (I had obviously never done something like this before): As I became more accustomed to my school’s dominant discourse, I gradually began learning how to appropriate it. However, my eye-opening experience of learning to embrace my Spanish culture and then having to relearn Spanish in school made me realize that I didn’t need to adhere to just one dominant discourse. Instead, I learned it was better to embrace all the discourses that shaped me and be able to switch between them when necessary. I didn’t have to reject my Mexican-American identity to fit into the predominantly “white and affluent” discourse of my school. This was well summarized by Trevor Noah in his book, Born a Crime, where he states, "Maybe I didn't look like you but if I spoke like you, I was you." (Noah, 2016) This concept applies to me in this situation because I didn't really look like my classmates or have similar backgrounds to them I but I did learn how to "talk like them" which made it easier to create meaning relationships with my classmates. This ability to socialize allowed me to feel physically comfortable on my campus.

Spanish Class in High School: When I started high school, I needed to learn a foreign language to fulfill the graduation requirement, so I chose Spanish since I already understood it. It felt strange to speak Spanish in an academic setting again, especially after nearly ten years of discouragement. Ironically, I found myself struggling; I had to relearn much of my lost vocabulary and grammar. While I could recognize what sounded correct, speaking spontaneously was a challenge. The Spanish I was learning in class was also much more formal and academic than the Spanish I had learned at home. Moreover, my high school had a vastly different demographic compared to my middle school. I attended a school in the next town over because it had better ratings than my hometown school. Most of the students there were affluent and predominantly white. I found it ironic that I was now relearning and being graded on my native tongue alongside students who were praised for learning an additional language.

This realization inspired me to get involved in leadership roles on campus, joining both the Associated Student Body (ASB) and the Latino Student Union (LSU). Being part of ASB exposed me to the core of this new “affluent-white-American” discourse also known as the primary “proper/academic” discourse of the United States. I learned how to communicate with people from different socio-economic and cultural backgrounds, gaining valuable skills in navigating spaces where few shared my experiences. Social media helped me bridge social connections, as many of my peers shared similar online influences, like watching the same YouTube videos or TikToks. I was able to leverage this new discourse to amplify my pride in my Mexican-American heritage. This led to my role as President of the Latino Student Union, where I advocated for and celebrated my culture within the campus community. My newfound confidence allowed me to academically flourish in High School, which allowed me to graduate and go to college.

Winning Awards Alongside my Peers in the Latino Student Union: I completed my foreign language requirement but decided to continue working on my Spanish independently. I started watching TV shows and movies in Spanish and gradually incorporated more Spanish words and phrases into my everyday speech. Through the Latino Student Union, I became involved in a volunteer group that worked closely with Spanish-speaking parents in the area, which allowed me to practice using Spanish in more formal settings. With my relatives, I made an effort to speak with them more, which meant using Spanish as well.

Back to Spain… Again! By the time my family decided to go visit relatives again in Spain at the end of high school, my relatives were surprised that I could now hold full conversations with them. For the first time, I felt a deeper connection with them, as they got to know more about my personality and life goals, and I, in turn, gained a better understanding of them. This experience showed me that embracing shared discourses helps foster meaningful connections with others.

This paragraph is ready to be filled with incredible creativity, experiences, and stories.

Now at UC Berkeley, I’ve adopted a new discourse: that of being a UC Berkeley student. I continue to hold onto all the discourses I’ve learned throughout my life, and they have shaped my ability to connect and communicate with students and faculty on campus. I’ve built relationships based on shared identities, whether through being Latino, a political science major, a student leader, or a volunteer. Just as I once adapted to the discourses of my high school, middle school, elementary school, and family home, I’ve now learned and embraced the unique identity of being a Golden Bear.

I still practice my Spanish to this day, and while it’s far from perfect, it has improved significantly, even just in the past year! It has come in handy on many occasions, whether communicating with my relatives or engaging with the broader community around me. Reflecting on my journey with Spanish reminds me of a scene from the movie *Selena* (1997), where Selena Quintanilla, the famous Mexican-American singer, learns as a child the importance of speaking Spanish and how it connects to identity. In that scene, her father, Abraham, emphasizes the significance of knowing who you are, explaining that you can’t go through life making space for yourself or taking up space without understanding the spaces from which you came. This resonates deeply with my own experiences navigating Spanish as part of my heritage and literacy discourses. Watch the scene here --->