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By Anne Silva

Dear Spanish, I am crazy about you!

We are high school sweethearts, you and me. I fell in love with you the first day of eighth grade when I was in your class for the first time. Sure, I’d seen you around before—on the tram at Disney World, in public places around town with my family—but I’d never really MET you. And there you were, waiting for me in fifth period. I knew from the start that we were meant to be together.

I loved how exotic you were to me, just a teenager in the midwest. You had been to so many far-flung places! Twenty-something countries, is it? Through you, I learned about the Inca empire, the Sanfermines, and mole poblano. We spent a LOT of time together in high school, you know. That Spanish 3 teacher did her best to separate us. It was a rocky year, wasn’t it? And when I couldn’t go on the study abroad trip to Spain during senior year? Well, a lesser love than ours might have been dissuaded, but not us.

It wasn’t always easy, of course. I have to say, you really didn’t like me that much at first. That whole “double r” sound? I thought we’d never get past that, despite my repeated efforts at “erre con erre cigarro.” And we did hit a rocky patch I still refer to as “the subjunctive affair.” But now, we can look back at all of that and laugh.

Spanish, you and I have been together for so long, you are even in my dreams. We’ve been to some pretty amazing places over the years: places I never would have gone without you. I’ve met people through you that have changed my life. You’ve opened my eyes to whole new worlds, and I’m crazy about you for it.

I love you, Spanish!



So… let’s hear it. I know YOU love Spanish, too. When did you first fall in love?

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