Speaking Spanglish Isn’t An Abomination – It’s A Tool Of Survival

My Spanglish originated in a small Pentecostal church in Bushwick, Brooklyn. The church members, mostly migrants from Puerto Rico and other parts of Latin America, spoke primarily in Spanish. As a first generation U.S.-born Puerto Rican who grew up assimilated into an “English Only” culture, I learned Spanish among my church elders. I first began mixing my English with my Spanish while singing worship songs or “Coritos,” which relied on the power of repetition, making it a great way to perfect the language. I was able to belt out the Spanish lyrics with perfect pitch and intonation. However, the introduction to the songs were always done in English. God Bless everybody tonight. I’m going to sing a Corito. Whenever I had the mic, I felt like Selena who was famously known for singing flawlessly in Spanish while speaking predominantly English. In my intros, I never translated the word “Corito”; the direct English translation is “chorus” and it didn’t quite sound right. Calling the melody a song also would not have had the same impact as the word “Corito.” Corito did not just represent singing, it represented an experience that was about to take place. The Corito was simultaneously a song, a dance and a spiritual invocation. When the church members heard the word, they grabbed the instruments. The maracas and guiros were in ready and eager hands. The word Corito, signaled a collective feeling that none of us really had a word in English for.