If You Think Selena's Spanish is "Bad," Here's What You Need to Understand
The Complex Reality of Growing Up Bilingual in America
Selena Gómez recently faced intense criticism over her Spanish-speaking role in the movie "Emilia Pérez" - not for her acting, but for her Spanish pronunciation. Even prominent Mexican figures like Eugenio Derbez joined the criticism (though he later apologized). This reaction strikes close to home for me. As a linguistics professor teaching translation in New York, I see this same story play out with my Hispanic students, most of whom, like Selena, were raised in the US by Hispanic families. They too face criticism about their Spanish from relatives both here and abroad. This is what I wish I could explain to both Derbez and to every family questioning their children's Spanish abilities.
When someone criticizes how we speak, it cuts to the core of our identity and perceived intelligence. It's human nature to categorize people based on their accents and speech patterns - our way of speaking reveals our community membership, geographical origins, and social background. This instinct to categorize often morphs into linguistic discrimination, a prejudice as harmful as racism. Just as racial stereotypes oversimplify human complexity, accent stereotypes reduce speakers to caricatures, ignoring their unique linguistic journeys. For Hispanic children raised in the US, this means their complex language development story gets replaced by unfair assumptions about their abilities or cultural authenticity. To truly understand their way of speaking, we must examine the forces that shaped their linguistic identity.
Selena grew up speaking Spanish in the US until age 7. While I can't know exactly how she spoke then, it was likely similar to any Mexican child raised in a Spanish-speaking household. But then something crucial happened: she began acting, primarily in English roles. She lived and worked in a country where English dominated every sphere of power and opportunity.
We often simplify language acquisition to "learning our mother tongue at home," but this overlooks a crucial factor: the language of education shapes our linguistic development profoundly. Countless Hispanic children in the US transition from Spanish dominance to English dominance upon entering school. Children intuitively understand which language carries more social and economic power, and they adapt accordingly. When you stop regularly using a language at a young age, it naturally atrophies - like a muscle without exercise.
Instead of criticizing Selena, we should examine the societal systems that failed her - a system that treats the linguistic heritage of immigrant children as disposable rather than valuable. The United States consistently squanders this rich cultural and linguistic resource that immigrant families bring to our nation.
When I discussed this controversy with my students, they immediately connected with Selena's experience. Many had faced similar criticism, and all knew someone who speaks just like her. One student's comment particularly struck me: "Profe, yo creo que ella es muy... how do you say brave in Spanish?" "Valiente," I answered. Indeed, Selena is both brave and valiente for authentically representing how millions of Hispanic Americans speak - creating visibility for a linguistic identity shared by so many.