Tag: foreign

Learning SOMEthing

Context: As a way to help them behave, we did a bad word/phrase of the day two years ago in one class. The words and phrases weren’t actually very bad, but most of them were quite useful for the kids – they were things that they said to each other all the time in English, anyway. Now they could use them in French.
…..

In class this week, a student asked, after finishing the test, if he and another kid could go study in the hall. I told him to ask in French. He said, “N—— et moi pouvons… casse-toi?”

The first part was right… “Can N—— and I…”

The second part means either the command, “Get out of here!” or, even, “GTF out!”

Most of the class, after a momentary pause for all to process and draw breath, burst out laughing as his well-intended effort of unintentionally forcefully telling the teacher to leave class immediately.

At least he remembered something from sophomore year! 😛

Post-a-day 2023

Surprised

I am cold, but not ashamed, sitting naked on the floor.

I have been putting together ideas for how to approach a particular class that I’m teaching. You see, I absolutely love teaching – I can’t stop getting excited about it, when I have the opportunity actually to do it. I just love teaching and helping people learn things. And teaching foreign language, despite its struggles, is one of the most exciting things I have ever been able to do in my life. I really wish that I could devote more of my life to doing just that: teaching foreign language.

I think I always got so frustrated with teaching, even though it was mostly foreign language, because of the books I had to follow. I would do my best to use the books, but despised how terrible they were, not just in terms of accuracy, but in terms of how ineffective they were in creating someone who genuinely could say, “I speak this language.” And so, I would make a belated effort to come up with something better, while keeping on track with the required timing of the course, and covering whatever silly info the book had thrown in as ‘important’ for the course. Actually, of the courses – I was never just teaching one, but usually three to five courses in French, all at once.

And I think that that is how I grew so exhausted. The frustration combined with the inefficiency and knowing that I could do so much better, if only I had the time. Yet, when summer came around, or any other longer break, I was already too exhausted to do anything about it all, and too overwhelmed by the frustrations and inefficiency in which I had been living for so many months already. It was easier just to give up. And, eventually, it was easier just to walk away. The state requirements were too stupidly set up for my efforts to be worth it on my own, it felt.

And yet, there was something else. Something I hadn’t realized until, perhaps, this week… maybe, even, until today.

I had not found a place where I truly wanted to put forth the effort. I had not found a school for which it felt my efforts would be worth it.

And yet, as I mentioned, though I never take work home with me, I am sitting here on the floor, most likely at home (because I’m definitely not sitting around in my office naked), working. But this isn’t work for me. It is something I am excited and impatient to do. So, I am doing it. Well, I was doing it. Once I hit the point of being done for now – no longer thrilled by it -, I closed up shop for the night. I likely will revisit it all tomorrow and Saturday, and possibly will go in to school on Sunday or Monday for the more “work” part of it all, the labor that isn’t so fun, but necessary for it all to be great.

And, you know, I excited about that. What kind of weekend is that? A wonderful one, filled with a sense of accomplishment and helping make the world a better place, and making a positive difference in the lives of those around me, on the lives of people I love.

So, I can hardly wait to get back to work. For now, though, Imma get up, get dressed, and get to sleep, because I’m exhausted.

Goodnight, all.

And may God and The Universe bless us all with love. 😉

P.S. If you got that song reference, it is extra fun, because I really have been torn about all of this teaching stuff lately. I thought I had left teaching for good…, but then I got an e-mail and phone call this summer, and here I am, teaching for the semester… and loving it in the most ironic of ways.

Post-a-day 2021

Frenching

Today, I posed a question to myself. Though, I didn’t actually have words to the question until after I answered it. You see, I was looking at myself in the mirror, about to go downstairs to go on an afternoon walk (since I still can’t run after my accident three weeks ago). In my head was French and the excitement of living in France as an adult – something I have only dreamt of doing, but have tasted as a student – due to this Netflix show called Emily In Paris.

I was somewhat lonesome today, and wanted a movie or series to keep me company while I cooked for a long while. I somehow ended up with Emily In Paris, and fell in love. We had a full and satisfying relationship all day long today (think Jim Gaffigan on Netflix shows being like dating), and I was taking an unwanted but necessary break to go on my walk (got to get those hundred miles in somehow). And so, I’m looking in the mirror, French and Frenchmen and France and chocolatines in my head. And I somehow answer this unsaid question aloud, in French.

I say first, before seeing myself in the mirror, “Bah ouais. Je ne parle pas le français comme langue maternelle. Ce n’est pas ma langue maternelle. Mais j’adore le parler….”

Pourquoi ? someone asks in my head.

“Parce que quand je parle le français…, je me sens…,” and I now look directly at myself in this Masaie mirror on the wall, halted just before the first step downward. “Je me sens… un peu sexy…,” and I smile as I admit it, adding raised eyebrow as and a head tilt at the second feeling, “tellement à l’aise… et,” and this last is he hardest to admit, “comme quelqu’un qui en vaut l’envie. Je veut dire, quelqu’un qui mérite être envié…,” and I look at myself with these words having been said aloud, experiencing the fullness of their truth, and somewhat being that person envying his girl in the mirror – woman in the mirror – and I smile, fully content in that moment, give one final glance to the freckles around my nose, and head down the stairs and out the front door for a hearty walk in the chilly late afternoon air, under the overcast, Fall sky.

As I began my walk, I realized that my unsaid question – it felt a bit like playing Jeopardy, I suppose 😛 – was, “Why learn a foreign language?”

I contemplated this on my walk, and even recorded myself for a bit, just to see what it was like as a means of keeping track of my thoughts. (It was cool, but I’m not sure it is my style for sharing those thoughts with others.) I repeated my earlier statements on speaking French, but added the question to the beginning, and continued my statements with a further idea: When I speak English, these are not the ways that I feel. By speaking French, I have discovered and continue to discover things within myself that I previously had not known. By speaking a language different from my native language, I get to experience myself and life in a new way. And that is possibly the best and most valuable part of speaking a different language.

And, to be clear, this is not due simply to saying words in a foreign tongue. It is by having learned the language, which means experiencing its people and culture, as well as its use, that I have gained access to these formerly-foreign parts of myself. It is the Frenchness within me that I have learned and found throughout the process of learning to speak French, the language. I always support immersion as a necessary part of learning a language, because the language and culture not only go hand in hand, but cannot be separated from one another and still remain true to who and what they are.

So, why learn a foreign language? To discover how life and you are better than you ever imagined. 😉

Yeah 🙂

P.S. For those who do not know French and have not already stuck that paragraph into Google Translate, what I had said roughly translates in English to, “Well, yeah. I don’t speak French like a native speaker. I’m not a native speaker of French. But I love speaking it. Why? Because, when I speak French, I feel… I feel… a bit sexy…, entirely at ease…, and that I am someone worth envying.”

Post-a-day 2020

Dreaming of being Muslim

Have you ever wanted to be a different religion than you currently are?  I don’t mean like converting.  I mean it in the sense of having a different life; perhaps even literally being born into a different family and culture, such that your whole belief system is completely different from what it is now.  Well, anyway, I have (which, I suppose, was already rather obvious, seeing as I’ve brought it up and all…).

Growing up, and even still nowadays, I found myself occasionally longing to be a member of a culture similar to that of Islam’s culture.  I realize there are many concerns that have arisen in recent history regarding the religion.  However, that is not the point here.  The point is their beautiful dedication to their religion.

Whenever I pass the Prayer & Meditation Room in hospitals and comparable establishments, known to be filled with people of varying cultures and belief systems, I usually double back and go inside the room.  When inside, I see the prayer books, and sometimes even the mats for prayer and the compass-perfect layout of the room (for those who pray in a certain direction), and I feel a sort of longing.  From something deep inside, I feel an attachment to these strong religious practices.

Praying so many times a day, at certain times of day, using specific prayers and motions…, you really have to plan ahead in your day.  We have a soccer tournament today, so we’ll take a break between these games and these games… do you have the mats?  Just a normal Saturday, right?  Your religion ends up on the forefront of your mind from the moment you wake up, to the last prayer before sleep.  (Plus, with the Hijab for a woman, it is even more prevalent in one’s day. (Actually, I regularly wear a head covering for yoga, and sometimes even just life, and I wish it were more accepted, such that I could really wear one whenever I wanted.))

Perhaps it is simply that the practicers of Islam seem to have such extreme dedication, that it is as though they ‘have it all together’ or something.   That I experience their dedication as a sort of clarity and true love in their lives…, and I want that clarity and love in my life, too.  Perhaps it is that it just seems so special to me, their religious practices, and I therefore want to be part of the something special.  I think it is just that I find beauty in it all – the practice, the dedication, the thought-out-ness of implementing it in life -, and I want that beauty.  I want beauty to abound in my life, and this is just one other way that I could bring beauty into my life…

I know there is so much more I could say, and so many better ways in which I could say what I’ve already said (although it is all writing, as opposed to actual speaking), but I think that up there gives a somewhat accurate portrayal of my thoughts and sentiment on the matter… somewhat.  ;P

I'm part of Post A Day 2016