Semester in Review: How to Talk to a Language Learner

Learning a language is humbling.  Some days are good, but on others, it feels as though my language ability has been reduced to that of a four-year-old.  

Teaching a language is equally humbling.  It becomes obvious that any skill with language that I might claim is largely due to the fact that I'm a native speaker.  When I have to sit down and think about what I say so that my students can understand, breaking it down into small bites, I realize how unconscious our usage is (and how convoluted English can be).  Even with great effort, I've created more than a few failures.  

What's so hard about it, you ask?  Yes, yes good question, I'm glad you asked.  Here are some major points to bear in mind:

1. Speak slowly, but naturally.  We can't distinguish words when they're rushed together, even if they are familiar vocabulary for us.  Plus, we're processing a million things a minute - retrieving vocabulary, categorizing verb tenses, re-directing direct objects, ordering events and information, capturing the overall main idea, and on top of it all, wondering how in the world we're going to respond... so give us time.
2. We're not deaf, so please don't yell.  It's embarrassing, and we're already self-conscious enough.  However, if you don't speak loudly enough for me to hear you with ease, I won't even try to understand, but you will be none the wiser. We're very good at noncommittal body language responses, you see.
3. It is never, EVER funny when you try to dance circles around us with your words, no matter how much you enjoy it.  We will shut down and stare at you blankly, and the joke will be lost, and you will look like a big fat arrogant gilipolla.
4. Your goal is to facilitate communication.  Think of it as marking a route on a map.  Highlight the most important places, and we'll eventually get there, even if it is by a less direct route.  What this means:  we rely heavily on inference, so especially enunciate question words and the subject; provide a definition (sandwiched within the sentence) after a less common word; and don't start your stories (or sentences) in the middle of the action and then backtrack.  Beginning-middle-end; subject-verb-object... at least at first.
5. Slurred slang is hard to decipher, much less understand.  For example, gonna, wanna, 'sta luo.
6. Be especially conscious of your time-order words.  Repeat and rephrase them to make sure we follow what you're saying.  And be sure to clarify when you're listening to us... verb tenses are one of the worst parts of learning languages.
7. Multiple pronouns and indirect objects are confusing, especially if they are of the same gender ('he said he didn't'... or 'Mark said Antonio didn't'...) or group size (they and they).  If you change the person/subject of your story, make sure we catch it.   
8. Don't assume we understood the first time, regardless of the fact that we're nodding.  Summarize every now and then, and we'll both be happier.
9. Eyebrows knitted together is a sure sign of problems.  
10. When you're listening to us talk, be a creative listener as you try to understand.  Remember, we haven't developed the rigid set of connotations you have, and we might cross my words a bit.  Think poetry :)
11. When we consistently make the same mistake, please, please, please correct it.  Several times.  It won't hurt our pride; we'll be grateful. I promise.  And also, when you respond, it's helpful if you restate part of what I said correctly, modeling proper usage for us.  We notice and learn.
12. Be curious about and interested in our lives.  Asking us questions about ourselves affirms our value and tells us that we're not defined by our lack of language skills.  
1. If you need somewhere to start, consider: family, food, entertainment, school and education, celebrities, music, significant others, other travels, best experiences so far, biggest surprises so far, native scenery, religion, politics, holidays and festivals, sports, history, cultural identity, cultural differences, time differences, future plans, legends and folk tales and why they came to be ...to name a few.  
2. Please note that you may have to provide us with some basic vocabulary if you ask a very technical, specific question.
3. Be careful when asking about homesickness.  It may put us in an awkward situation, depending on our experiences so far.
13. Finally - and this is possibly the most important of all - If you use an idiom while giving me important information (directions, etc), I will personally see to it that your children and grandchildren learn every curse word in three languages.  Thank you, and have a nice day.

Spanish

My kids can't decide if I speak Spanish or not, despite the fact that they occasionally hear me explaining things in Spanish to the students who need it.  It obviously doesn't have much of an effect on their working memories... Here's a typical conversation:

Student 1:  "Natalie, que ...... [insert roll of mostly-intelligible Spanish] .....?"

Me:  "Hmm?"

Student 1, realizing he just wasted a lot of breath:  "Pero, ¿hablas español, o no?"  But you don't speak Spanish?

Me:  "No."

Student 1:  "Pero, ¿me entiendes?"   But do you understand what I´m saying?

Me:  "No."

(Student 1 is understandably uncertain.)

Student 2:  "Que no habla español, coño."  Ya lo sabes!  Dude, she doesn't speak Spanish.  Duh!


Me:  "Exactly.  Gracias, Roberto. Ya lo ves."   Thanks.  That's about the size of it.


Oh, the life I live... :)
   

Spanish, Modified

Given the content of that last post and my mood today, I think I should probably clarify the limits of my language. Today, I'm tired of Spanish, I'm tired of the animation, I'm tired of... you get it, I'm sure.

Living between two languages is exhausting. Literally exhausting. Last night I listened to a whole bunch of presentations by ex-Fulbrighters from Spain, who had studied in the United States. The presentations were long and in (unreasonably) rapid Spanish. Fascinating as it was, at a certain point, the will to live becomes... optional... not to mention the will to pay attention and make sense of the torrent of verbal whatever-you-call-it raining down on you.

If only it had been a conversation instead! You see, in most conversations, it is possible to interact effectively by relying on inferences. The animation I mentioned above? It's a blessed thing. I can usually guess what my compadre is talking about and how s/he feels about it, or what a word means, and respond accordingly. And when that fails, context! (Dear Students, if you happen to be reading this, may I recommend polishing these two techniques for life? They will take you far... especially on, say, EOI TESTS.... relevance and real-world application, right here).

But then there are days like today. (Again, if you're one of my students, ignore the fact that that sentence began with 'but.' You are NOT allowed to do that until you have a high school diploma!) Days like today render my best efforts nearly futile. I rarely shake my head and declare, "No entiendo," because I can usually ask about a word instead and figure the rest out, but that was a lost cause today. But, bless those Spaniards, they started all over again for me and explained the basic ideas again, and we were off and rolling... mostly. But mostly it was just sloughing through and wondering vaguely which idiot Babylonian decided it was a good idea to build a skyscraper, and then realizing I had lost the conversation again. Alas, the best of intentions... foiled.

As They Say

A strange thing happened this evening.

It had been a somewhat tedious day, and I was curled up on the couch, entirely absorbed in a novel, Little Bee, which I picked up on a whim at Washington Dulles. (It's quite good, by the way - haven't finished but I'm pretty sure I'd recommend it.) As an English major, I overdosed on reading, and it has only recently returned to be the escape I used to know. So there I sat, oblivious to the world around me.

Suddenly, a shriek from Encarna (mother) broke into my reverie, and startled, I paused to listen in. Apparently, the Italian prime minister got busted for some philandering. I shook my head, vowed to figure out a formula for predicting such outbursts (for example, volume = drama + age x number of bystanders), and went back to my book.

And then it hit me. I had just crossed seamlessly from English to Spanish and back again without even noticing the difference. Somewhere along the way, I had departed from my customary three-step translation tango (cumbersome and inefficient at best), and was now co-existing in a strange world somewhere in between my sweet, beloved English and my new, amorous Spanish (which, if you care to know, I equate with a big bad biker man). Husband and lover, perhaps?

It is a strange place to be, that is certain, and it is treacherous to be sure, for I'm finding that words dessert me at random -- in both languages. As in bad football, lots of fumbles. The analogies are endless... and patience is limited. Besides, it isn't that impressive, just strange. Most of my students at home cross these lines hundreds of times a day. But it's a new one for me and presents a question with no answer as of yet: what in the world do you do with so many words (temperamental words, at that!)? That is my question.