As Andrés Tapia interviewed Hispanic church leaders for our cover story, one topic kept popping up. Everyone mentioned the tension of being bicultural—living in the English-speaking U.S. culture and yet feeling part of a Spanish-speaking Latino world. Andrés had lived with this tension his whole life.
Born in Chicago, Andrés automatically became a U.S. citizen, but his Peruvian father and American mother also registered him as a Peruvian at the local consulate. While spending his childhood in Peru, Andrés was taught by North American nuns and went to a high school where students could choose whether they wanted to pursue either a U.S. or a Peruvian diploma; he chose to do both. Following in his father’s steps, Andrés returned to Chicago for college, and at Northwestern University met his U.S.-born wife, Lori.
Now the cycle is beginning again. This summer Marisela Tapia was born in Chicago. After working on the article and looking back over his own life, Andrés concluded the tension of dual citizenship was something to cherish. So he has decided to speak only Spanish to his daughter, while Lori will speak English. And Marisela was taken to that same consulate where, like her father, she became a dual citizen.
Perhaps she will learn to speak impeccable Spanish. If so, she would recognize a grammatical “error” on our cover. Viva, of course, should be vivan, but unless you are in the habit of shouting brava after hearing a great soprano, we trust you will understand.
While we pray for peace, we need moral clarity about this war.
A Christian reconciliation group in Israel and Palestine warned that war would come. Now the war threatens their relevance.العربيةFrançais
Eastern Orthodox poet Scott Cairns reflects on his new collection, his journey of faith, and poetry’s capacity to apprehend inexhaustible realities.
