Skip to main content
Member experience

No es fácil

closeup of a caucasian woman outdoors showing a piece of paper with the question hablas espanol, do

We have to explain to the landlord why our rent is going to be late this month. I’m 7 years old, phone in hand, my mother next to me gently handing me words. Words made up of regret. Words shaped like embarrassment. Words that sound like a plea. I transform remorse into English.

Can you please ask your mother? I’m 10 years old, sitting across from the doctor. My mother looks expectantly at me, waiting for the words to come in a language she’ll understand. Words with sharp edges. Words that make strange sounds. Words that live outside the vocabulary of a child. I mold concern into Spanish. 

Please tell me what this letter says. I’m 13 years old, cradling a notice full of words in small hands. Words dressed like a warning. Words in bold block letters. Words like “final” and “overdue”. My mother waits for my delivery. I worry in both languages.

Bartering one language for another is second nature when you grow up with parents who don’t speak English. When I was little, I didn’t wonder why I breathed a language that my parents did not. It’s just the way things were. 

Translating can be a heavy superpower to embrace. We learn from a young age to have difficult conversations on behalf of others and that responsibility follows us forever. As children of non-English speakers, we give a voice to those in our family who can’t be heard. We take on the role of translator as a necessity. In Cuba, where my parents are from, there is a popular phrase to use in life, “no es fácil.” It’s not easy. 

Growing up as translators for our parents no es fácil. But we take pride in it because we know that language is power. Being understood is power.

People are often surprised to learn that Spanish is my first language. They don’t know how my mother took a paintbrush and colored my world with words en español. Words of kindness (bondad). Patience (paciencia). Courage (valor). Empathy (empatía). She modeled these values and vehemently instilled the importance of helping others, of treating everyone with dignity and respect. My mother taught me to always find ways to pay it forward. 

By the time I started school, my world was technicolor. I could communicate with everyone around me in two languages. Here was an enormous privilege I would only truly appreciate as an adult. 

你好. I’m 30, living in Shanghai, with minimal Mandarin skills. Very minimal. It’s a year of adventure, of growth. It’s a year of challenges, too. In Shanghai, I think about my mother every day. How hard it must have been starting a life somewhere she didn’t know the language. For the first time, I’m completely plucked from the comfort and familiarity of being understood. It’s completely terrifying. It makes me feel alone in a city with 24 million people. It feels like having tape over your mouth that you can’t peel off no matter how hard you pull. It’s disorienting and disempowering. 

When my family came from Cuba, my aunt got a job at the school district. Her colleagues immediately gave her a familiar piece of advice. “You have to join the credit union.” After she joined, she immediately took everyone in the family to become SchoolsFirst FCU members too. 

Like many immigrant parents, mine came from a place where there is no trust in financial institutions. They didn’t have a bank account . . . no safe place to keep the little savings they scrounged up. They came here with the goal to do their best and try to make ends meet. Most of my childhood revolved around the very topic of making ends meet. Where could we cut down? What could be sacrificed? 

What couldn’t?

When I turned 16, my mother took me to the branch to open an account just for me. She couldn’t really explain all the products and services, but she could pass down the emotional connection she built with the credit union. She explained why it was important for me to have my own account, my own savings. She said, with confidence, “They will help you when you need it.” I didn’t know how I tucked those little words away, deep in my heart. But they were there, beating quietly. 

Words, in English and Spanish, have always meant a lot to me. The way you can shape words into shapes, meanings, connection. Words led me to my first role at the credit union as a Chat Representative.

Chatting with members in Spanish was at times a challenge. It required an added level of intentionality, carefully planting translated words. Patiently building a foundation of trust. There was a familiarity here, too. Speaking Spanish gave me the opportunity to share with members products and services designed just for them. It was beyond heartwarming and rewarding to be there for them in their own language.

I remembered how special team members made my mother feel when they served her in her own language. How they advocated and acted as her voice when she couldn’t be heard. How they granted her a sense of control and ease over her finances. How they incited her trust simply because they cared. How they treated her with dignity and respect. I recognized their passion. I saw the responsibility they bore. It spoke straight to my heart. 

There was something about the service my mother received at the credit union that drew me here . . . something that resonated with the very core of how she raised me. It was the unwavering belief and importance placed on helping others, particularly the underserved. 

Pero no es fácil. There is an unspoken weight translators carry. A weight that we’ve shouldered since we first learned to speak English when we had to have difficult conversations on behalf of our family. We’re often not translators by choice, but by nature. We have so many to look out for and help. 

It’s a weight I carry with me every morning I wake up, every day I come into work. 

For those of us who are multilingual, Member service means finding every opportunity we can to fill the language barrier gap. It’s showing members someone sees and understands them. Someone is standing next to them guiding them to the next step. We’re reminded of our mothers, our fathers, our grandparents. People trying to make ends meet in a place where their words require an extra step: translation. 

¿Qué quiere decir member service? Here is my personal translation of member service: meeting members where they are. Sometimes that happens to be 10 paces behind the starting line. But that doesn’t matter.  Member service is letting members know in whatever language they may speak, “Nosotros estamos aquí  para usted.” Chúng tôi ở đây vì bạn. हम आपके लिए यह ां हैं. 우리는 당신을 위해 여기 있습니다. We’re here for you.

Yunis Nadal

Yunis Nadal

SchoolsFirst Federal Credit Union

Contact NLCUP

Interested in learning more?

Get in touch