Kayla Torres 

   Webfolio

I was born and raised in Puerto Rico. I was a shy little girl. The only language I knew was English. That is the language that was spoken to me in my house hold. I asked my mom, "What is a daycare?" and "Why do I need to leave my safe haven of fun and cartoons all day at home for a daycare?" My mom replied that I needed to go to daycare because there was no one that could babysit me. My mom also told me there would be other kids my age. So it did not sound bad at all. The day came where it was time for me to go to daycare. My mom left out one little detail. The daycare I was going to was an all-Spanish speaking daycare. Oh yes, she left out that one little detail. In my mind I was thinking how am I going to communicate with the kids and adults. I felt a panic attack kick and I just started crying, screaming bloody murder, and clinging to my mom's leg. The daycare personnel had to practically pry my fingers and legs off of my mom. I felt like this was a nightmare. Why would my mother leave me with people where I had a communication barrier. My mom was able to get away when the daycare ladies distracted me with a piece of candy but that did not work. Once I realized my mom was gone I started crying again for an hour screaming I want my mommy. The other kids were wondering what was wrong with me. One little girl came up to me and gave one of her toys to play with. I started to calm down. The ladies gave me a piece of paper to color on. It was time for the parents to pick us up. I thought this day was horrible and I was happy to have his day over with. My dad could speak Spanish. So the daycare lady told him that he should speak Spanish to me at home since we live on an island that only speaks Spanish. At the time I did not know what they were saying but my explained to me what the situation was going to be.

The next following days it was the same routine: scream, cling, and cry. My dad had had enough of my antics. He told me that I was going to learn Spanish the easy way or the hard way. Stupid me choose the hard way. It took me a while to realize that I was only hindering myself in this process. So I finally caved and decided to start learning at the basics. Things I would need to know so I can communicate with the workers. I needed to learn phrases like “I need to go to the bathroom"; "I want juice" "can I play with that toy" or "where is my dad and mom". My goodness it was a struggle, but it was a struggle I put there. Little by little, I started getting out of my comfort zone. I was able to communicate a little not only with the adults but with the kids also. This was the beginning of my journey to learn a new language that I really did not want to learn. Being in daycare made me realize a little that I was on an island that only spoke Spanish. I look back now and wonder what were my parents thinking?! Not preparing a kid for such a thing. But as the saying goes "you have to walk before you can run."