In honor of National Friendship Day, first established in 1954 and celebrated on July 30th, I want to say thank you to the friends who have let me present the freest expression of my linguistic self. The goal of the celebration is to promote peace by celebrating friendship across cultures, communities, and, in the case of today’s post, language.

College Friends and Mainly English

My girlfriends from college are a mix of Jewish and Italian heritage, all English-speaking with an East Coast style of speech, specifically New Jersey and Long Island. Since English was my dominant language, I felt it was accessible and generationally aligned, which let me focus on the infinitely awkward task of making friends in a new environment. With this group, I felt aligned with humor, pop culture references, and style of speech (East Coast English). This is not to say that I didn’t have moments where language differences wouldn’t pop up. A simple but important one is me using the incorrect preposition “in Long Island” versus “on Long Island.” I thought, “You’re ‘in’ a place,” but there is clearly an agreed-upon decision to use “on” versus “in,” and I was happy to learn how to fall in line. Similarly, my girlfriends were not Spanish-speaking, but they are supportive of my “extra” moments where my brain blanks on the English word. The most important ingredient that connected me to this group was their humor. If you can find a group that laughs at the same things as you, aka your use of language is understood to be the same, friendships thrive.

Samantha, me, Morgan and Nicole in B Lounge, Towson Days.

Diapora and Cultural Practices…Spanglish Heavy

Next up are my girlfriends from the diaspora/musical culture scene. In my early 20s, I had what I describe as an identity crisis. I felt the need to connect to my home language, Spanish, and culture, Puerto Rico. However, I felt so awkward. “Where to begin?” My dad has always been heavily rooted in his language and culture despite a lifetime of going back and forth from the island, so I saw him practicing Plena and decided that was my “in.” But I wanted to create my own connections and community, so I started attending workshops (on and off the island) to learn Plena and then Bomba. In these spaces, I made connections to an amazing community—especially of women—because there were so few of us then, whom I credit with helping me get over the hump of awkwardness. These women were the first ones who helped me come back to my Puerto Rican-ness. They have been the most forgiving in my desire to learn more Puerto Rican Spanish, answering questions and letting me practice. It was an added bonus that learning more about my language and culture through traditional musical styles helped me access language, culture, and history that others who may have been more fluent did not know. It helped me see that language is not simply “fluent” or not, but rather: What are you trying to do with the language, and how do you execute it with the most confidence possible? My girlfriends from the diaspora and cultural music scene—OGs and new babies—have helped me access a piece of my identity in a truly unique way.

Julia, Melany, Crystal y yo en La Casita de Chema.

Las de la Isla and Spanish Confidence

Finally, my girlfriends from the island have allowed me to be vulnerable with my personal and language goals. Growing up, I had family connections on the island, but I felt that the friend connections were my parents’ friends. When my partner and I started dating, he, too, had his own connections with the island, having gone to school here at various points in his K–12 education. I, however, did not. When we moved to PR in 2020, I decided that I wanted to establish my own group of girlfriends that I could connect with and continue my journey with the language. This was probably the biggest challenge of them all because I didn’t have the generational references, I didn’t have the confidence in my language ability, and I had to establish these connections from scratch. I decided to join a small cohort of women focused on exercise and self-empowerment. In that first meeting, I laid it all out: the goal of seeking to make friends on my own in PR, having grown up in the diaspora. A little awkward, a little audacious, but we had to rip the band-aid off. After a few sessions, I invited the group out, and three of the girls from that group and I connected on a level that I never expected. I was transparent with this group about wanting to practice the language. They were, and are, patient with me if I don’t understand a word or a concept. They let me bob and weave between English and Spanish, over time adding more to my Spanish toolkit than was there before. But again, in all our uses of language (Spanish, English, Spanglish, multigenerational, etc.), we find humor, kindness, and respect, which allows me to feel safe in my use of Puerto Rican Spanish.

Mis elementos en el Coli for the Bad Bunny Concert.

Conclusion

And so, I am infinitely grateful to my friends for helping me connect with my different linguistic identities. And if there is a takeaway, it is that with friends who share your sense of humor, your use of different languages further supports growth and connection.