JOINT BASE SAN ANTONIO, Texas –
When my daughter was six, I began to teach her a little bit of Spanish. I had no formal training in the art of teaching any language, so I did what I usually do: I winged it.
I tried it all; reading in Spanish, flashcards, dry erase boards with Spanish words and their English translations, even TV shows.
But you know what? It wasn’t easy for her. I had a significant advantage growing up. Speaking in Spanish was the only way I communicated with my mother. I knew some English – mostly from watching TV – and I was her translator at the grocery store, at the bank, the laundromat and the convenience store.
Spanish was my first language and I wasn’t formally introduced to English until I got to kindergarten. And let me tell you, there were not many Latinos in my elementary school.
I knew I was a bit different. But back then I didn’t realize that that was OK. I was a naturally shy kid, but being a minority who didn’t know English very well made it so that I avoided the other kids at all costs.
You can say those early years shaped the kind of adult I became. I’m extremely introverted. I’ll never understand how people who haven’t met each other can just strike up a conversation and have fun doing it while making it look so effortless.
Even as I wear my uniform today, it’s still very difficult for me to open up. But I’m getting better.
Two years ago at my last duty station, I bumped into an NCO, another Latino, with who I was stationed the year prior.
This gentleman recognized me and asked me how I was doing. “Fine,” I said. “Honestly, I’m looking for ways to get involved in the community, set an example for my kid.” “You know, I’m stepping down from the Hispanic Heritage Committee. You should consider taking my place,” he said.
My first gut reaction was to the effect of “there’s no possible way I can do that. I’ve never been the president of anything!”
“I don’t have a lot of experience with something like that,” I told him. He said, “Don’t worry; I’ll be here to mentor you, and I know some NCOs who can be part of the team.”
I told my daughter (who by then was nine) I was doing this thing. She said, “You got this, Dad!” I was glad one of us thought so.
My mentor set up a meeting and introduced me to two other NCOs and the four of us became the installation’s Hispanic Heritage Committee.
One of them was European and expressed his hesitance to even be there. I told him that we needed him because he was proof of what Hispanic Heritage Month in part represents: diversity and inclusion. I told him I needed his perspective and his ideas.
Thankfully he stayed; we soon began to develop a strong bond of friendship and camaraderie and I slowly creeped out of my shell.
We actually had plenty of ideas for events and fundraisers. There were challenges, of course, mainly our general inexperience with running a committee that supported the base at the wing level, and the pandemic that limited our abilities to execute.
There were times I asked myself how I got into this, what with a full-time job, troops, school, and a family. But the four of us worked together, and even I was reassured by my peers that we would get creative and find ways to make things happen.
It turned out that they both had plenty of contacts and my peers showed me the art of networking. This tiny team showed resilience over the course of those first six months trying to figure out our identity as a unit.
Our mentor assisted with logistics and processes only experience could show. I know my mother would have been proud that we were able to share our Latin culture in such a significant way.
Looking back, I’m grateful for my military familia. They make me proud to be part of something bigger than myself. They have taught me that we can choose to give in to our insecurities or acknowledge that they are part of us, and continue to move forward.
We need some humility in order to be mentored, and sometimes we may surprise ourselves, not realizing that “we got this.”