Julio Anta is a Cuban and Colombian American author best known for his comic book series Home, and his work at Marvel and DC Comics. Originally from Miami, he currently resides in New York City. Here, Anta reflects on his middle grade graphic novel debut, Speak Up, Santiago!, and the importance of bilingual representation for young readers.
“¿Él no habla español?”—“He doesn’t speak Spanish?”
Some of the most embarrassing moments of my childhood were the times I so badly failed at communicating in Spanish that the person I was speaking to assumed I wasn’t fluent at all. If the embarrassment wasn’t bad enough, the shame that followed was the real killer.
I grew up in Miami in the 1990s, when much of my Cuban and Colombian American family did not speak English. Spanish became the natural connective tissue between me, my grandparents, and our extended family. So how did I go from speaking Spanish at home to struggling to communicate in my first language? And why was this the case for so many of my generation? As always, assimilation is the culprit: living in a culture that values Americanization above all else—so much so, that many Spanish-speaking parents have opted not to teach their children their native tongue at all, for fear of making them a target of xenophobic and anti-Latino hate.
In my case, I think I just wanted to be viewed as “American,” as part of the majority. Like a lot second-generation kids, I often found myself both consciously and unconsciously abandoning the unique aspects of my “minority” culture that made me stand out, or that I found embarrassing. When you’re in middle school or high school, grappling with all the aspects of your identity that make you feel different, the last thing you may want to concern yourself with is your Latinidad. That was my experience, at least.
But what I didn’t know then, and I’ve come to know intimately now, is that I, and an entire generation of Latino kids, were vastly underrepresented in media. Despite growing up in a place that was 70% Latino, I very rarely saw myself in the books I read, or the film and TV I was fed by the gallon. Sure, there were the occasional stereotypes, but lived-in and authentic portrayals of Latinos were nowhere to be found. And there certainly weren’t any bilingual books available.
It is for those reasons that I have always attempted to write stories that center Latino characters and confront issues that are relevant to our current moment; books that I wish I had when I was younger and do not yet exist. With my forthcoming middle grade title, Speak Up, Santiago, I took the big anxiety-inducing step of writing a bilingual graphic novel. When you read this book, beautifully illustrated by my friend Gabi Mendez, you will see both English and Spanish dialogue on the page. The impetus, of course, was the aforementioned shame and anxiety that I, and so many of those same Latino kids who believed the lie of assimilation, now feel when they attempt to speak their native tongue.
At the start of Speak Up, Santiago, the titular character arrives in the charming town of Hillside Valley—inspired by many real-life towns in New York’s Hudson Valley—to spend the summer with his grandmother, immersing himself in the Spanish language. He wonders how he’ll be able to communicate with her if his Spanish fails. What if he can’t keep up or his accent is unintelligible? Even though it’s a fictional story, it is inspired by my own experience: one that many Latino children throughout the country will be able to relate to.
My hope is that Latino children will be encouraged by Santiago’s story, because just as important as the heartwarming narrative of friendship and community is the very nature of this book: the fact that it is bilingual. Readers will have the unique opportunity to read dialogue in both languages and gain confidence in their understanding of Spanish.
Speak Up, Santiago is the first entry in our Hillside Valley series, so there will be more bilingual graphic novels to come from Gabi and me. But there must be more. We are now in an era where school systems and white American parents are realizing the value of a bilingual education. And the language that most are pursuing? Spanish! There are 11.6 million bilingual Spanish speakers in the United States, making it the second-largest Spanish-speaking country in the world. As I write this, Bad Bunny, a Puerto Rican artist who uses his cultural capital to advocate for his island, sits at the top of the Billboard charts. Mainstream American artists from Beyoncé to Billie Eilish, the Weeknd, Drake, and more have all released music in Spanish. And Speak Up, Santiago isn’t the first bilingual graphic novel. Invisible, a bilingual Breakfast Club-style story by Christina Diaz Gonzalez and Gabriela Rodríguez Epstein, is a bestseller.
It's time to seize this moment and prioritize bilingual books across all age groups and genres. While Spanish translations of books have finally begun to be published for the U.S. market, bilingual books, which are purposefully written in both languages, lag behind. In a time when Latino artists are at the forefront of worldwide culture, it is more important than ever that children’s literature be a space that encourages Latino children in their unique struggles.
Speak Up, Santiago! (Hillside Valley #1) by Julio Anta, illus. by Gabi Mendez. Random House, $21.99 Mar. 4 ISBN 978-0-593-65164-3
