For New York Puerto Ricans, Language Matters, But Identity Runs Deeper

Kisha Cedeño recalls being 12 years old when she first felt embarrassed by her lack of Spanish proficiency. She was in sixth grade at Juan Pablo Duarte School in Washington Heights, New York, and was assigned to write and pronounce a word in Spanish in front of her classmates.

“I have to think of the easiest word,” she told herself, filled with fear.

Standing at the blackboard, she wrote “soupa” instead of “sopa,” the word she had chosen. Her classmates laughed at her mistake, and Cedeño, in tears and embarrassed, ran to the bathroom to hide. Even today, at 48, the Puerto Rican-descended woman, born and raised in New York, continues to be questioned about which words she can or cannot say in Spanish, a reminder of the cultural expectations that weigh on her.

“For years, not mastering Spanish felt like a burden, a stain. But now, I fight against that. I embrace the beauty of being Puerto Rican and learning Spanish,” says Cedeño, who still resides in Washington Heights, a Manhattan neighborhood with a significant Hispanic presence.

Despite the U.S. having one of the largest Spanish-speaking populations in the world, many U.S.-born Hispanics struggle with the language, raising questions about identity and heritage preservation — especially for people like Cedeño.

In 2023, a Pew Research Center study revealed that while 75% of Latinos in the U.S. speak Spanish, only a third of third-generation Hispanics can hold a fluent conversation in the language. According to Jens Manuel Krogstad, the organization’s editor of demographic trend studies, this scenario highlights the challenges of preserving Spanish among new generations of children of Hispanic parents in the United States.

In the case of Puerto Ricans in New York, although Spanish remains present in Puerto Rican households, its use has declined with each generation, reflecting a process of linguistic assimilation in a predominantly English-speaking environment.

The 2010 report The Latino Population in New York City found that 24% of Latinos in the city did not speak English or did not speak it well, while 76% spoke it well or very well. That same report also showed a decline in households where Spanish was the primary language, suggesting a shift in Spanish usage across generations. Although the study does not break down data specifically for Puerto Ricans, its findings provide insight into broader trends in linguistic dynamics within the city’s Hispanic community.

Ricardo Otheguy, a linguist and professor at the Graduate School of the City University of New York (CUNY), is one of the academics questioning the idea that Spanish proficiency defines Puerto Rican identity in the diaspora. For him, language is just one of the many elements that make up identity. “It’s a mistake to think that without language, there is no identity. Language is just one of the pillars, along with food, music, community, and politics,” he explains.

Otheguy also pushes back against the notion that not speaking Spanish “perfectly” equals failure. He explains that this perception ignores the reality of Puerto Ricans in the diaspora, who grow up in a bilingual environment and adapt the language to their context. “There’s no reason for Puerto Ricans in New York to speak Spanish like the island’s natives,” he emphasizes, noting that Puerto Rican identity transcends these limited perceptions.

Krogstad explains that “Spanish is an important part of what it means to them to be Hispanic or Latino, so [as part of the study] we wanted to explore people’s experiences with using and speaking Spanish a little more in-depth. We wanted to go beyond just asking about how well you speak Spanish or read Spanish. We wanted to ask a little more about daily experiences with it, and how it intersects with identity. And yet, on the other hand, we were also seeing a gradual decline in the use of Spanish among future generations of Latinos.”

Although the terms “Hispanic” and “Latino” are often used interchangeably, they do not mean the same thing. “Hispanic” generally refers to people from Spanish-speaking countries in America, while “Latino” also includes people from Latin American countries where languages like Portuguese are spoken, as is the case with Brazil. Simply put, Hispanics are Latinos, but not all Latinos are Hispanics.

Among Hispanics, the decline in Spanish proficiency has given rise to terms like “No Sabo Kids,” a label that, although originally derogatory, has been redefined by young people of Hispanic descent who do not fully master Spanish. The phrase, born from the common mistake of saying “no sabo” instead of “no sé,” is used to question the authenticity of those who do not speak Spanish fluently.

However, platforms like TikTok have provided space for these young people to reject the stigma and assert their Latino identity on their own terms, challenging the notion that speaking ‘perfect’ Spanish is a requirement to belong to the Hispanic community.

According to Mike Mena, a Mexican American researcher and assistant professor at Brooklyn College, language hierarchies in the U.S. have historically positioned English as a symbol of prestige, success, education, and economic progress, while Spanish has often been marginalized or perceived as a less valuable language. This dynamic, he explains, is shaped by broader social, economic, and political structures that prioritize assimilation to English as a path to an idealized cultural model.

“This type of identity may have a brighter future, so we start behaving like this standard. It doesn’t surprise me when a parent internalizes this idea that maybe English comes with a brighter future,” the academic notes.

Spanish at Home in New York

Supported by data from the 2020 Census, the Center for Puerto Rican Studies (CENTRO) at Hunter College presented an analysis showing that Spanish remains predominant among Hispanic families in the Bronx, where nearly half of the population speaks it at home — making it the borough with the highest presence of the language. Queens and Manhattan follow in terms of Spanish-speaking population percentage, while Brooklyn and Staten Island have lower proportions, as residents in these boroughs are more likely to speak languages other than Spanish.

Although Spanish remains an important language for many, its transmission varies across generations in an environment where English holds a significant place. While CENTRO’s analysis does not directly quantify how families navigate these shifts, its findings provide insight into how Spanish and English coexist within Hispanic families — including Puerto Rican households — particularly across generations and social contexts.

Cedeño explains that she began relearning Spanish at 19 while preparing for motherhood. Her tutor was her maternal grandmother, Iluminada Galarza, a Puerto Rican woman who emigrated from Yauco to New York in the 1950s amid the great migration that led thousands of Puerto Ricans to settle in the city. “My parents really didn’t speak much Spanish. I spoke very little and did not understand it. When I was pregnant with my son, the importance of passing culture came to me through my grandmother. She said to me: ‘When you come into my house, it’s as if you’re stamping your passport. You are not to speak English with me,’” Cedeño recalls.

That experience with her grandmother not only strengthened her connection to the language but also allowed her to reconnect with her cultural heritage and pass on Puerto Rican identity to future generations.

From Puerto Rico to New York: How Migration Shaped Language

In 1917, about 15 years after English was established as the official language in Puerto Rico as part of the Foraker Act, Puerto Ricans were granted U.S. citizenship, facilitating a wave of migration to New York, especially after the Great Depression in 1929. This migration provided labor for the city’s industrialization and offered work to those seeking better living conditions. However, for many, it did not mean social or economic advancement but rather the continuation of precariousness in a new environment.

In this adaptation process, Spanish and English competed and sometimes merged in daily communication, giving rise to the Nuyorican identity. A blend of ‘New York’ and ‘Puerto Rican,’ the term refers to Puerto Ricans born or raised in the city. In neighborhoods like El Barrio (East Harlem) and the South Bronx, they shared deep cultural ties with the African American community through their shared African and Caribbean heritage.

This connection not only shaped their neighborhoods but also played a key role in forming their identity. For Puerto Rican professor Arnaldo Cruz-Malavé, an expert in Latino literature and culture in New York, the use of Spanish among diaspora generations does not compete with English but coexists inevitably, often with an emotional charge. “Spanish remains a living presence for second-generation [Puerto Ricans] because it defines their human relationships, like the bond with their grandparents or certain expressions that have no equivalents in English. Saying ‘bendición’ is not the same in English. It has an emotional and cultural force that cannot be translated,” Cruz-Malavé emphasizes.

The migration of Puerto Ricans established settlement patterns that, while once clearly defined, have evolved over time. Although the Puerto Rican population has historically been present across the city’s boroughs, its proportion relative to other Latino groups varies in each one. 

According to the 2020 Census, Puerto Ricans make up the largest percentage of the Hispanic population in Staten Island, followed by the Bronx, Brooklyn, Manhattan, and Queens. This data, gathered in the CENTRO study, reflects how, in recent years, there has been growth in areas with less Hispanic diversity, where Puerto Ricans now make up the majority of the Latino population.

Preserving Roots Beyond Words

The emotional connection to language and culture manifests in key community spaces like The Loisaida Center, a pillar in Manhattan’s Lower East Side, a historic home to a vibrant Puerto Rican community. This neighborhood, known for welcoming immigrants and working-class communities, became a cultural epicenter for the Puerto Rican diaspora.

The term “Loisaida,” a Spanglish phonetic adaptation of the Lower East Side, is the name Puerto Ricans in New York have given this neighborhood, symbolizing their cultural and social strength. Promise Gladys Jiménez, administrative assistant at the Loisaida Center, highlights how through art and community resistance, they help new generations reconnect with their roots and find a sense of belonging.

“Our workshops and events, such as La Cocina de Loisaida y Loisaida Festival, not only celebrate our culture, but also create spaces where young people can feel proud of their roots through art, music and food,” Jiménez explains. “Working at Loisaida made me feel closer to my latinidad. I grew up without knowing bomba or plena but here I was able to reconnect with my roots and share that with other young people.”

According to Beatriz Lado, associate professor of Spanish at Lehman College and the CUNY Graduate School, rediscovering the cultural and linguistic richness of Spanish begins at home. This process is collaborative, she explains, because it has a multiplier effect that transforms both the learner and their family and community environment.

“Connecting projects that involve conversations with family not only becomes a process in which we all relearn and reconnect but also allows students to gain knowledge and combine it with their families’ stories, creating a powerful tool for mutual education,” Lado said.

For young people like Christopher Soto, Cedeño’s son, who was born and raised in New York, Puerto Rican identity transcends Spanish proficiency. For example, that identity lives in the deep-rooted family traditions his mother has passed on to him, especially during Christmas celebrations.

“Being Puerto Rican is embracing my roots without losing who I am. I keep family traditions on holidays and in food, and I plan to pass them on to my future family naturally. My ethnicity is part of who I am, but it doesn’t define everything; I find the balance between my roots and my personal interests,” Soto said.

Although cultural identity can be complex in the diaspora, Soto affirms that language is an essential link to preserving Puerto Rican history and traditions for future generations.

“Ironically, (even though I’m not fluent in Spanish) I would like my children to at least try to learn Spanish or to carry on my traditions with them… Preserving our history and our language is a big part of ensuring that others can’t minimize or undermine our culture,” he indicates.

Mena said preserving cultural identity in the diaspora requires reimagining language barriers as opportunities to innovate in family and community connections. “Families don’t have to fully master Spanish to feel connected to their heritage. What matters is how they use the cultural and linguistic resources they already possess to remain rooted in their traditions,” Mena said.

The linguist also notes that, in many cases, Puerto Ricans and Hispanics in the diaspora face both internal and external pressures to fit into rigid linguistic standards. However, he emphasizes that the key does not lie in measuring cultural authenticity through language proficiency but in how people and families find unique ways to transmit values, stories, and traditions. “Language isn’t just words; it’s a vehicle for emotions, connections, and cultural creativity,” he affirms.

The expert also suggests that integrating Spanish, even partially, into daily family activities, such as music, food, or celebrations, can be a powerful way to keep cultural roots alive.

Translingualism: Rethinking Language

Translingualism recognizes that people integrate linguistic resources fluidly and creatively. It occurs not only in the family space but also in the community. In the educational field, Mena says, “most learning revolves around encapsulated languages: English and Spanish. Translanguaging challenges that. This practice fosters inclusive learning and gives educational institutions the opportunity to recognize the cultural and linguistic diversity of their communities.”

For Mena, in the context of the Puerto Rican diaspora in New York, translingualism has been important “to preserve cultural heritage without limiting creativity or linguistic flexibility.” Translingualism refers to the fluid blending of languages in daily communication. However, cases like Spanglish face significant challenges.

“Translanguaging faces challenges such as racism, classism, and a lack of understanding in public policy. However, it remains a powerful tool to challenge those barriers. In families like Christopher’s, culture and ties can be strengthened, although it requires resources, will, and constant work,” Mena adds.

Community as a Pillar of Identity

Community organizations have been key in promoting spaces where linguistic diversity is valued and reinforced through art, education, and social participation.

In the Bronx, the group The Point uses art as a tool for Puerto Rican affirmation. For Hatuey Ramos, director of Arts and Education at the organization, art preserves Puerto Rican identity in the Hunts Point area, south of the Bronx, through bomba and photography classes, allowing young people to reconnect with their roots.

“Art is life. It’s the way we define who we are,” Ramos says.

As part of The Point’s initiatives, the community leader highlights the Fish Parade, an emblematic Bronx event that combines cultural celebration with community protest. “We want the community to claim the water and the river as their own,” Ramos explains, referring to the importance of recovering and preserving the neighborhood’s natural resources, like the Bronx River, which has historically been a focus of industrial pollution.

In Brooklyn, the organization UPROSE promotes intergenerational leadership and climate justice. Part of their work is teaching young people how to identify power nuances and social dynamics in spaces where important decisions are made. According to its executive director, Elizabeth Yeampierre, “we don’t treat young people as ‘the future.’ They are leaders now. We teach them history, organizing tools, and how to read a room politically.”

Yeampierre emphasized the collaboration between young people from the diaspora and Puerto Rico, especially after disasters like Hurricane María in 2017. “There is transformative power in this collaboration if we respect the needs of each side.”

After the hurricane, Yeampierre gave a talk at the University of Puerto Rico, where she found students open to dialogue. “The people on the island know what they need. They don’t need us to tell them how to think or develop their land,” she emphasized.

Bilingual Education: Progress and Challenges

For linguist Ricardo Otheguy, bilingual education in New York’s public system represents a collective achievement of the Puerto Rican community. Unlike other immigrant communities that relied on private initiatives, such as Hebrew schools that taught Jewish history, Hebrew language, and learning of the parashah or Hebrew biblical passage on Sundays, Puerto Ricans took a different route. The need to prioritize work and income made it difficult to develop similar private educational programs.

But leaders like Antonia Pantoja and Pedro Pedraza played a fundamental role in the struggle to establish accessible bilingual programs for the Puerto Rican population. Through ASPIRA and the Center for Puerto Rican Studies, respectively, they promoted bilingual education as a pillar of educational and cultural equity. Their efforts not only helped preserve the language but also strengthened intergenerational and cultural ties within the diaspora in the city.

However, despite historical advances in implementing bilingual education in New York, significant challenges persist, such as the lack of sufficient dual-language teaching programs in the public system and the shortage of trained teachers to deliver them, according to the New York State Association for Bilingual Education (NYSABE), an advocacy group for students in the city’s public school system.

This effort to preserve the language becomes even more relevant in the current context, following the executive order signed by President Donald Trump designating English as the official language of the United States, posing new challenges for preserving languages like Spanish within migrant communities.

According to the New York City Department of Education’s Demographics At-a-Glance report, during the 2023-2024 school year, nearly 150,000 students received English as a second language lessons. However, less than 20% are enrolled in bilingual programs, whether transitional or dual immersion.

Otheguy warned that the current bilingual education offering remains short, as it does not meet demand and faces structural limitations that hinder its expansion. He assured that language also acts as an indicator of discrimination, so inclusive approaches that celebrate cultural and linguistic diversity rather than marginalize it are necessary.

Reclaiming Spanish, Reconnecting with Identity

Despite years of embarrassment and tension around her handling of Spanish, Cedeño has found in the language not only a bridge to her heritage but also a source of personal pride.

“It’s my love, my heartbeat. Sometimes I think and dream in Spanish, and that makes me feel like I’m reconnecting with something bigger than myself,” Cedeño shares with emotion.

Listening to Bad Bunny’s latest album, “DeBÍ TiRAR MáS FOToS,” which has become a global conversation topic about what it means to be Puerto Rican inside and outside the Island, Cedeño felt identified. The album opens with the song “NUEVAYoL,” a tribute to the Nuyorican diaspora.

“I cried, I danced and felt proud to understand some of the lyrics,” Cedeño recounts, describing the experience as a reconnection with her roots through music. “[Listening to the album] confirmed to me that I understand my language better. It made me so happy to understand it and navigate it so easily.”

This story was made possible by a grant from CPI’s Instituto de Formación Periodística.