The Word Made Flesh

What does this mean to this language teacher, mother, reader, and blogger, to consider that the Creator of the universe, who uttered a word and spoke oceans and continents and species into existence, elected to become the Word made flesh and to dwell as a human being, as a brother in the flesh of a real body?

"Words, words, words," Shakespeare places into Hamlet's mouth, leaving him with a bitter aftertaste. At this time of year, language students can tell you that words listed in the back of a textbook chapter can be monotonous. Words flung across the kitchen during an unexpected moment of holiday cheerlessness are painful. So if words can hurt, annoy, bore, and wound us, why does God call Himself the Word made flesh?

Studying poetry involves appreciating the selection of the right word from among seemingly infinite possibilities for the purpose of aesthetic communication and the re-creation of experience translated into audible form. Our Creator, whose simple yet evocative poetry called us into being, decided to become a Word. During this last week of Advent, when the Body of Christ in the family of faith is called to contemplate the coming of Christ, I ask myself, what does the utterance of the Word, a God-man, mean to me?

When I teach words, my students trust me. There is an unsigned and unspoken contract between language learners and their teachers. Children are the purest sort, because they have not yet been introduced to the dictionary so they believe what we teach them. "Mommy" is a food, safety, heat, and comfort source. "Bananas" are filling and delicious. "No" often provokes stronger reactions than "yes." Like my children, my adult students trust me, and they believe that when I say that "pluma" means "pen" they can use that word with confidence without making fools of themselves. To trick them would be cruel.

To the Jewish people of Jesus' day, God's name was holy, in a reverence lost to my own culture. Saying God's name was too direct a communication of that awesome Being. For Christ to say "I AM" and refer to Himself as God was a very powerful, shocking, and terrifying word. Yet He claimed to be One with the Divine.

God came to us as a Word that we all could understand. He came as a little One, who didn't have words of his own yet. Baby Jesus curled up in the cows' feeding trough couldn't say even the powerful utterances of a one-year-old: Mary's little Boy couldn't ask her for "milky" or say "no" or "more". He came in as a God-baby with the cries and grunts of any other newborn.

He learned language from a pair of human beings who were His parents. In learning to understand and to communicate, He exemplified trust. Those humans around Him gave Him the language of their hearts so that His stories would make sense to all of us. Sometimes His words amazed, as when in His youth He taught the religious authorities. Other times, His words didn't come so easily, as when His dear friend Lazarus died and He crumpled into tears, like any of us might have done. Most of the time, He told stories to fishermen, and prostitutes, and the disabled, using words they'd understand, words relating to things that grow in the ground, things we all say and do, things we need for light and heat and food. His parables were simple, yet their value as stories lasts because they point us to our need for Him and His Word of peace.

But it wasn't until that Word put His money where His mouth was, and kept silent while He was accused of others' wrongs, that the Word claimed everlasting value. Jesus' words "It is finished" spoken from the cross are the words of peace that take my sin and shame, package them up, and carry them to hell so that the real me is free. This Christmas, as we lean in under the tree to place the baby in the manger, may we remember that when He gave His word at the creation of the world to love humankind, He was really giving the Word of His own life, to preserve our life and to make us His. Whatever words you may think, or say, or learn between now and Christmas, may the Word be in your heart and bless you abundantly.

En la paz de Cristo,
Sarah

Conversaciones

En nuestras vidas, llenas de horarios, presupuestos, eventos especiales y no tan especiales, y paradas regulares en la gasolinera para poder seguir el ritmo de la marcha, no es muy frecuente que tengamos la oportunidad de gozar de la tertulia. La libre expresión de ideas tranquiliza al alma y enriquece la expresión.

Es importante darnos la oportunidad de practicar el idioma en su forma más esencial: en el acto de hablar entre dos personas, o tres, en una conversación. Todos los ejercicios gramaticales del mundo no pueden igualar lo que se aprende del acto de preguntar, escuchar, contar, y comunicarse. Claro, es posible que no entremos en los tiempos verbales más complejos en cada charla. Hay días en que la mesa redonda se llena de conversaciones en el pretérito y en el presente. Hablamos de lo más ordinario: una visita en casa, un pequeño accidente de coche que detuvo el resto del horario por un día pero no resultó en ninguna herida ni daño, una confusión de palabras que produjo risa... etc. Lo esencial es que se utiliza el lenguaje en el contexto de la comunicación humana. Las conversaciones nos motivan a seguir con el estudio--para poder ser entre los primeros de captar el chiste y gozar de la risa.

Cuando enseñaba clases de lengua en Columbia, un aspecto de la enseñanza que me gustaba mucho fue el evento semanal que se llamaba "café y conversación" en la sala de la Casa Hispánica, y un evento similar en el campus de la Universidad de Illinois tomó lugar cada miércoles en un café cerca del campus. Pocas veces falté estos eventos. Los elementos necesarios son: un par de profesores o instructores, unos cuantos estudiantes, y una hora o dos. No hay ningún programa. No hay metas, ni apuntes, ni notas. A veces se escribe una palabra nueva en una servilleta, o se muestran fotos de un viaje o una boda reciente, o se intercambian números de teléfono. Todo esto viene de los participantes. No hay programa--solamente hay el invito y la presencia de los hablantes (desde nativos hasta principiantes). La idea es sencilla: detener la vida por un momento para comunicarse en español. De estas charlas salen amistades y recuerdos... y sin darse cuenta, también uno se adapta uno al intercambio cultural que sale del lento proceso de adaptar la pronunciación y el vocabulario a la libre expresión en una segunda lengua.

Tenemos un grupo de conversación muy informal en Hobart los martes por la tarde. Somos de varias religiones, de varias edades, de varias culturas--y gozamos del hecho de compartir las diferencias. Nuevos miembros del grupo están muy bienvenidos en todo momento ...

Go write a poem

Modern existence sometimes feels out of control. Economic pressures, personal differences, traffic, demanding schedules, and the uncertainties and dissatisfactions that arise from the high expectations we place on health and on love leave us, oftentimes, restless and discontent. Life seems unfair and monotonous.

Expressions of gratitude moderate stress and allow us to experience that ephemeral feeling of "happy" as we realize why we have reasons to be content.

Poetry is a retreat. Writing a poem requires slowing down, savoring, remembering, selecting, crafting, revising. When hateful words fly, when words like daggers leave me feeling isolated and wounded, the haven of a piece of paper all my own is a shelter from the collective denunciations of a culture turned harsh.

When I feel a need to escape, I find hope in the certainty that words are trustworthy and stable expressions, even when they describe sentiments that change. The right word brings a flood of endorphins, a rush of knowing that I expressed what I wanted to say, and that perhaps someone will read the word and we'll have communicated. The blank page is a space that invites discovery, creation, and communion. Poetry is a contract that puts faith in community. Let's meet there!

...but I want to learn real Spanish...

Hoy un señor de familia puertorriqueña, que habla un poco de español, me preguntó acerca de una clase o una tutoría particular porque quiere aprender a hablar más, pero quiere hablar "bien". Me dijo que no quería aprender a hablar "puertorriqueño" sino que le interesaba aprender a hablar un español "auténtico y correcto".

Me vino a la mente lo que aprendí hace años en una clase de lingu:ísitica con una profesora peruana. Ella nos hizo entender que no hay maneras correctas e incorrectas de hablar, cuando se habla de los acentos y los dialectos de un idioma. Claro que hay una gramática, y esa gramática tiene sus reglas. Hay que conocerlas y respetarlas. Pero ella nos aseguró de que si la gente habla de tal modo, pues así se habla y así se debe entender su modo de hablar como un modo correcto de expresarse. El vocabulario y el acento de cierta región no se debe criticar ni intentar cambiar. Los españoles tienen algo hermoso en la pronunciación de las "eses" y las "zetas" mientras que los argentinos tienen ese sonido tan bello (lee: "becho") de pronunciar ciertas palabras, y los dominicanos se comen la mita' de lo' suyoj pero s'entiend'igual de todo' modo'... y así nos aprendemos los unos de los otros.

Tengo que pensar muy bien lo que quiero decir a mi nuevo estudiante puertorriqueño. No quiero discutir con él, pero quiero hacerle ver que su mamá habla bien y que él también puede sentir mucho orgullo por su acento boricua. Claro, como él es un estudiante nuevo del idioma, le quiero enseñar un poco de gramática...pero más que nada, quiero hacerle entender que el modo de hablar que aprendió de su mamá es una forma bella de expresarse, y con unas lecturas, un repaso de los verbos, y unas correcciones de ortografía, realmente no me necesita.

Lo que le hace falta es tener acceso a unas novelas y algo de poesía de su patria, y unos amigos con quien practicar el habla para que se sienta cómodo con el acento y las formas de expresarse de su gente. No hay dialectos "malos" ... aunque las diferencias a veces son muchas. Los varios estilos de pronunciar las palabras, y los dichos y el argot particular a cierta región realmente enriquecen el idioma para todo el mundo. Hay que conservar y apreciar las diferencias que nos distinguen. Y sobre todo, no hay que dudar de las palabras de Mamá...

Transiciones y tradiciones

A veces los niños se identifican como hijos de sus padres por las cosas que pronuncian…tan inocentes, pero tan puramente sacadas de las conversaciones diarias de sus casas.

Ayer, por ejemplo, nuestro hijo John se puso una pashmina de color azul que mi hermano Luke le había regalado a mi hija Anna el año pasado. (Una pashmina es un chal o un rebozo, una bufanda ancha que da color y abrigo—viene de la India, pero Luke lo trajo de Inglaterra donde vivió por varios años.)

Pues John se lo puso sobre la cabeza, y le dijo a su hermana mayor: “Soy la Virgin María, y te voy a capturar, así que, date prisa e intenta escaparte de mí.” Anna le dijo, “No, gracias, pregúntale a Mary si quiere jugar contigo.” O algo así…la verdad es que a veces no entiendo muy bien el objetivo de sus juegos.

Lo que sí sé es que en esta familia, con una madre medievalista y un papá que es historiador del arte y ceramicista, pues, los niños respiran el arte y la literatura clásica que les rodean. Ayer, antes de acostarse, Anna me preguntó, “Mami, ¿qué significa ‘barranco’?”—una palabra que había sacado de una lectura de Laura Ingalls Wilder. Paso por paso, los niños aprenden a apreciar lo que sus padres leen, comen, dicen, y adoran.

Tenemos la oportunidad de transmitirles una cultura alta o mostrarles mucha porquería … y al final, es nuestra responsibilidad asegurar que ellos sepan discernir entre lo bueno y lo malo. Son nuestro futuro, y no solamente por su genética, sino que llevan nuestras ideas hacia las generaciones venideras también.

Stopped in my tracks...

One of the rich blessings of learning a second language is the joy of recalling exactly where you were and what you were doing when you learned certain simple words. There are words that will be with me forever, along with the context of their acquisition. These words are the special ones. I have this experience in my first language, also--but for bigger words, rare words, that entered my world in high school, words like "celerity" and "Hellenistic" and "indigenous."

In a second language, I have memories of very simple words and where I was when someone first said them to me. Take this one: La parada. The sounds stopped me in my tracks. My high school teacher, from Madrid, had a voice that was like bells over water. She read our vocabulary lists aloud, right before lunchtime, at the public high school where I studied Spanish under her tutilege. La parada. Bus stop. I can still picture the page in the textbook, with a winding train track (la vía) and the platform, (el andén) and a bus stop. La parada. The "p" sounded like a "b" and the "r" in the middle sounded like a "d" and the "d" was soft, like a "th". Something inside my soul stopped for a moment the first time I heard that word. My memory etched the sounds on a mental list of words that bring me back to reality when panic sets in. Along with a couple of Shakespeare's sonnets, and some kind words from loved ones that came at really low moments, this list of words can get my life back on track fast when I get struck by one of the "golpes en la vida" that make me, with the poet (Vallejo), say, "yo no sé".

There are other words, not quite heart-stopping ones, perhaps, but memorable. "Resbalar" is one. I was wearing muddy boots, up to my gills in muck, down in the bowels of the earth inside a cave in the Pyrenees. I was having my doubts about the quality and brightness of the headlamp that was supposed to be guiding and preserving my presence in the group. Mental gears were shifting from the headlamp issues to the words of a fellow traveler, and I was just inhaling to ask "¿qué quiere decir 'no resbales'?" when I hit my knees and slid into the darkness. I guess no one felt like stating the obvious. My bruised shins helped me remember that one.

Memory gets a boost from all directions while learning language. Some memorable words are false cognates, that woo us in only to rear their ugly heads in our moment of weakness, tinging the cheeks a faint pink: words like "embarazada" (pregnant); it sure looks like "embarrassed" and can lead to confusion. Or, "la americana," (in Spain it means a blazer or suit jacket), which caught a midwestern farm girl friend of mine off guard when a Catalan friend took her shopping only to say "la americana esa es muy fea" to another shopper, only to leave my friend feeling very judged and rejected. Those stories and the ensuing laughter when they are recounted over coffee make the words "inolvidables."

And there are others. "Vamos por partes" a phrase that belongs to someone I haven't seen in a dozen years, even though I hear others say it often enough: "let's take this one thing at a time." Another is "despejada" - meaning "bright-eyed, bushy tailed," or "the way the sky looks at dawn on a clear day." Despejada: I was on the deck of a ship, curled up in a sleeping bag, crossing the Mediterranean night on a lawn chair as a penny-pinching undergrad among a group of hostel rats, when the sun came up and I learned that word from a fellow passenger.

Trótola is Italian for top (the kind that spins)--and I was standing with my room-mate in the kitchen in my New York apartment in 2001. Krava is Bulgarian for cow (Silvia and I were drinking wine and eating fried potatoes). Crujiente is crunchy (Spanish--in Barcelona, with Susana, over a bowl of muesli) and "la solidaridad" is solidarity (in class in the Casa at Columbia, studying Blas de Otero). La nuca (nape of the neck) is one I guess I haven't forgotten (same classroom, different class, on the poetry of Claudio Rodriguez). "Solet" is the diminutive of "sunshine" in Catalan that I acquired from a children's song (Teresa Puig, BCN). And I am still holding the pieces of the word "saudade" that I picked up from a Portuguese short story years ago (Elzbieta Szoka's office in the Casa).

I can close my eyes and picture where I was, and hear another person saying the words as I savour the memories in my mind. These vivid recuerdos are a benefit of learning languages as an adult. It's never to late. And may your recollections be sweet and long-lasting, too.

Dictations

I learned about dictations from a Catalan professor at Columbia, Xavier Vila, who wrote funny skits and invited us to write down what we heard in class on paper, and then put a sentence on the board for correction.

Dictation invites students to listen carefully. We are trained to understand, but not always to listen in detail beyond simple comprehension. My students are often challenged to write down the words to a song (or at least the refrain which repeats)--as we explore different accents and dialects in recorded language.

Dictation can also help students learn to listen for accent, stress, and punctuation in spoken language, and to learn to improve spelling as corrections are offered for immediate feedback. While dictation may seem like a very old-school learning style, it is a structured way to explore language through listening and writing. And when the dictation texts are well-written like Professor Vila's always were, or selected from a good reading, they are enjoyable cultural tidbits, an essential part of a comprehensive language-learning program.

If you do a dictation in class, I recommend:

• Start with something short and sweet; literature is good; dialogue can be fun;
• Allow students to self-select which sentence to write on the board for corrections
• Encourage mistakes--explain that learning involves making corrections and taking guesses
• Read the dictation twice, so students can make corrections and self-check on the second time
• After all sentences are on the board, ask each student to read his or hers and invite students to correct each other. Then, the instructor can make corrections as well.

Will students like dictations? No telling. Some groups get really scared because they fear all listening exercises. But it's good to stretch them a bit. Teaching a class is not always democratic. But being a dictator isn't so bad, after all. Have fun!

Throwing fits about getting a language to fit

Deeply exploring a second language for the first time often leads learners to question why the language they're acquiring doesn't match up neatly with their first language. I have had students throw a fit about such challenges as syntax and gender. For English speakers, the idea of nouns having to be feminine or masculine can be daunting and even confusing. Students ask why are some of the body parts on a female body not feminine nouns. If it's a woman's breast, why is it "el pecho"? Or, how can there be two words in Spanish for ideas that only have one word in English; for example, how can Spanish have words like "anaranjado" and "naranja" that both mean "orange"--isn't that confusing? How can the words "there is" or "there are" in English get translated into just one short word, "hay", in Spanish? Why does the verb "gustar" work backwards from the way "to like" works in English, so that we say "me gusta el queso" and literally mean "cheese is pleasing to me"; and why does it have romantic associations to say that a certain person "me gusta" when in English we can say "I like so-and-so" in an entirely platonic way?

We cannot get inside the mind of the anonymous "founders" of a language, any more than we can get inside the head of our favorite author to know "why did s/he say that?" and "what did s/he mean?" Scholars puzzle over these questions while knowing that the real answer will always evade us. We wonder, how many people does it take to get a new language system up and running? Where will our language take us in the centuries to come? We can look toward the past, and must respect the fact that there is a future for the language(s) we speak that we may never know. Languages evolve over space and time, and they are influenced by such diverse effects as geography (what grows where the language is spoken? what are the weather, countryside and waterways like?), religion (what do the speakers fear? what or whom do they trust?), and economics (how do speakers earn money and spend it?)

Understanding that languages do not fit neatly over each other is an essential concept in language acquisition. The ultimate goal of learning language is to create a seamless fabric in the target language, so that thinking in, say, Spanish, becomes second nature. Having to translate every idea and every communication through a series of memorized equivalents weighs speaking and writing down. A small victory comes when a student can say, "Hmmm...I can't define it, but 'el arrullo'... has something to do with rocking a baby, or humming softly, or the sound the ocean makes." When you can feel your way through the language by instinct, you're starting to get a really good fit. Keep in mind that your favorite pair of jeans probably wasn't your favorite in the dressing room the day you bought them. Falling into a comfortable linguistic place takes time and patience. Savor the journey.

Los poemas son importantes ... Here's why.

At any level of language acquisition, reading poetry is beneficial. Few people make a living reading or writing poems these days. So in a world of "Spanish for Business" and "Medical Spanish," why are poems important?

Poetry requires a writer to eliminate words and keep only the bare essentials. Rarely in this life are we presented with a choice that requires us to "forsake all others." Weddings are one time like that. Backpacking trips are another. But usually, at least in 2008 in the USA, we can rent a storage shed, fill a garage, and opt to just keep everything.

Poetry invites us to say goodbye to the unnecessary and keep the essential. In communication, whether in our first, second, or tenth language, each conversation invites us to do the same. What ideas do I wish to convey to my children during this breakfast together? What do I want to say to my husband before I fall asleep tonight? What do my parents need to know next time I talk to them?

Poetry is not simply romantic expression, or the trappings of old-fashioned courtship, or making empty promises that one does not intend to keep. Classics in the poetic tradition lead us to examine who we are, what we believe, what matters to us, whose we are, and what choices we make.

What's your favorite "poema" and who is your favorite "poeta"--and why? Give it some thought and let me know.

Why Don Quixote is a great book

Windmills, giants, barbers, innkeepers, knights errant, and libraries might not be your cup of tea. So why is Don Quixote a great book, and why does it make sense for an American to take the trouble to read this great book in Spanish?

Don Quixote asks us to ponder the questions about our humanity. What is the purpose of living? Why are we here? What do we need? What do we believe and why? Whose are we? What is loyalty? Friendship? Love?

Don Quixote is a funny book. Personally, I can't read it in public--I giggle too much. I have gotten some very strange looks while reading DQ on the NYC subway. So I am a closet DQ consumer nowadays.

Many of Cervantes' jokes are language-related, and Spanish allows for such flexibility in the formation of words and subtle changes in meaning through suffixes and slight variations that this book is much funnier in its original language.

You will probably never wake up one morning and say, "hmmm... my Spanish is good enough now, I think I'll read Don Quixote today." It's a two-volume book and it's a daunting feat to read even the first chapter for the first time, as a non-native speaker. So don't think. Just grab a copy, and a good dictionary, and wade through. Take the plunge. You'll giggle and cry your way all the way through, I'll bet, as you consider more deeply what it means to be human.

Conexiones culturales

"Your class is too hard. Some students went to the other section," greeted me today as I took roll for a college-level beginning Spanish class. While I'm not covering as many chapters as another professor, the students have noticed that we are going in-depth. I share what I know with my classes, what I have learned, what I have studied, and waht I have been taught by my professors and by years of experience as a student of Hispanic culture and Spanish language.

The best part about slowing down and going in-depth in every chapter of the text is that we can take time to enjoy the cultural connections with parts of the Latin American and Peninsular world. Music, traditions, dance, fiestas, santos, foods---none of these areas escape our notice when we take time to explore the cultural explanations for "why do you say it like that?"

I am readily accessible by appointment, e-mail, and phone. When students are lost, we work together to get "found" again on the roadmap towards cultural and linguistic fluency. But I always take it as a compliment when someone says the class is "hard." If it were easy for you, then you would have tested into another level! :) If you're not making mistakes, you're not learning much--so hang on for the ride and raise your hand when you're (not) having fun and have a question. Speak up--because when you're lost, guaranteed, someone next to you is, too.

Una manzana al día

In English we say "An apple a day keeps the doctor away." Today I did a medical translation. It is a blessing to have access to good medical care. A translator can be nice, too, if the doctor and patient don't speak the same language. How do you keep the translator away? What is the "apple a day" that will help you polish up your Spanish language skills before you embark on a journey where you might have to use your emergency Spanish in a real world context?

Here's Señora Fields' "Apple A Day" technique for learning Spanish effectively. My Ivy Tech classes meet weekly, as do my Spanish Bible Stories students. Practicing every day or even a couple times a day helps Spanish language really begin to "stick" so I give suggestions like:

+ Count in Spanish when you climb stairs
+ Practice Spanish sounds when you ride around on your bike
+ Listen to the radio in Spanish
+ Pick up a Spanish edition of the newspaper
+ Have someone ask you the time in Spanish (¿Qué hora es?) and see if you can answer

Practicing a little every day makes a BIG difference in how quickly you learn.

Keep up the good work!

Translation... slowing down to smell the "rosas"

Translations can be tedious. Translations can be challenging. But translations can also be beneficial and, in time, can yield joy.

I love to translate texts that really move me, because when I slow down to think about each word, savor it, and select a word in another language as it's "equivalent", I have taken the time to enjoy the text and meditate on it.

I encourage my students to write essays between classes, as optional homework, and to try translating something from Spanish into English from time to time. Pick a text you love, or ask for a text that your teacher thinks you will learn to love...and then get to work!

Benefits include:
*A tired brain, to help you sleep well.
*New vocabulary words you didn't even know you didn't know.
*An opportunity to meditate on a text that you want to understand better.
*The finished product: a text you love, translated, that you can share with others.
*An alternative to watching TV.
*A job... if you get good at translation, you can charge people for your services.

Find something that you want to turn into English, or into Spanish, and get to work!

Fall Classes

Coming this fall and continuing classes are listed here:

Spanish for Travel: a class for adult beginners, hosted by the Munster Parks Department, and held in Munster, Indiana.

Spanish for All Ages: continuing in Highland, Indiana.

Mommy and Me Spanish: continuing in Porter County, for toddlers, preschoolers, and a caregiver or parent.

Spanish for Ministry: Location and times TBA

... as well as private tutorials and small group classes in people's homes.

Querido Amigo: Writing Letters in Spanish

Querido Amigo,

This week, in two Spanish classes, we are writing letters.

One group, that meets at our church, is writing letters to children who attend school in Guatemala, with A Servant's Heart--a Lutheran ministry to families who live on a garbage dump. Four children have been receiving support from Redeemer's Sunday School, and now our group of Spanish students are writing personal letters to them: in Spanish! We really hope they will write us back.

The Mommy and Me kids are learning about el correo also: and I'm writing letters and mailing them to their houses. It's exciting to get a real letter in the mail, especially when it is addressed right to you, and has handwriting on the front of the envelope. We will be talking in class about sobres, and sellos, and about cartas. Last week we drove small cars around on a mat on the floor, and delivered mail to various houses around town. This week, we're checking our real mailboxes at home, just in case we hear from our amigos.

Un abrazo,
Sarah

You can lead a horse al agua

We had an emotional blowout yesterday during Mommy and me Spanish.

I tried bringing my three kids to our small class, which met in our living room this time, while Carl went next door to do something handymanly at the neighbors' house.

Within moments, we were up to our ears in some serious "berrinche," complete with "gritos" and "acusasiones". I guess that's the last time I do the class para mama y para mi with tres mis. (Where are my accent marks? I did program them in but they're not working at the moment. Puede ser that the computadora needs to calentarse un poco.) Two of my three hijos decided that they wanted to be the maestra, and that I wasn't teaching the class their way. We had to call Dad in to bail us out fast.

What I want to admit here is what every abuela already knows, and what those of us who are still waiting for grandchildren are still learning. You can lead a horse al agua but you can't make him beber. John and Anna like learning Spanish, but only in their own time. It's not easy learning something from your own mother, especially when she expects you to be good at it right away. I know that--I still remember being a kid. At the same time, though, sometimes you really do want to learn, but just need to be able to find out how you connect with what you're learning, and what your ideal acquisition setting and style is going to be. My mom figured that out, and now I'm trying to learn it with my own three children.

We're working on discovering everyone's style and pace, and finding them the right tools and teachers. In the meantime, el agua is available, and no one is going to be dragged there kicking and screaming. Sometimes, I think, when we push too hard, the little caballo thinks we're dragging him to the water to be drowned, or to be pushed into a scary little boat, or he might just not be all that thirsty. So, taking a deep breath, I remember that Spanish takes time to learn, just like English, and that I was never surprised when my six- or eight-month-olds couldn't say a word, even when I tried to get them to talk. For now, they are listening very well, and that's excellent.

We're enjoying the "silent period" when children listen more than they talk as they acquire a language. I know that in a few months, or years, or a decade perhaps, with exposure to Spanish on a regular basis, everyone in the house will become bilingual. And then the "berrinches" we witness on the homefront, albeit few, will happen in two languages, along with el amor y la alegria. I'm waiting for that day, but resisting the urge to push for it, because if I push it may never happen.

En paz,
Sarah

Spanish Sí, join the club

Naming Spanish Sí was not something that happened overnight.

I started with Se Habla Español, but the amazing SCORE coaches who provide consulting through the Small Business Administration suggested that to a monolingual American grandma who might want to hire a Spanish tutor for her grandchild, the phrase Se Habla Español would mean absolutely nothing. They suggested Conversational Spanish, and I liked how descriptive that was, but it did not encompass the spirit of this endeavor.

Spanish Sí (pronounced like the letter C) has been mis-spelled as:
Spanish C
Spanish See
Spanish S? (I guess that mass mail marketer didn't have a clue about typing accent marks).
Spanish Sc

But the winner is a mispronunciation that my dad made famous. When he saw the magnets on my minivan, he said, "Spanish Sigh? What's that?"

Dad is famous for a dry sense of humor, a love for Spoonerisms and malopropisms of all sorts... and he was just kidding. But I was asked the same thing by a student who, actually, wasn't.

Maybe I can start a business teaching Spanish for Budding Poets and call it Español por Suspiros. Maybe I can teach you and your significant other how to write romantic poetry, by reading some of the world's great literary figures.

For now, my students tend to be in the categories of travelers, children, workforce folk, and ministers of God's love and grace. And the fact that so many people want to learn Spanish and make a great effort to learn is, to be honest, a sigh of relief.

Worksheets are SO passé

Recently I invited someone to learn Spanish with a group of friends, by attending a very fun event that repeats regularly, which happens almost entirely in Spanish, and involves learning something useful and new. I know that the person I invited is at least moderately interested in learning the skill in question. He is also rather desperate to learn Spanish, for personal (romantic) reasons. Attendance in the event in question certainly involves a commitment (one hour per week minimum), but does not cost anything other than time.

The [lame] excuse I received was: "I don't have time. I only have limited free time, and I want to learn Spanish before I learn anything else."

To be fair, I will credit the person with ignorance. He is, after all, a monolingual American who has not had a fair chance to learn a second language. Chances are, his first exposure to Spanish was either in jr. high and high school, and perhaps he never thought seriously about learning until, I would venture to guess, he met Hispano-parlante people of interest, either at work or in the ever-amorphous landscape of a twenty-first century personal life. Now, highly motivated to learn, and approaching middle age, he finds himself in (what my dad would have called) a bind, or a pickle.

I am not one to use coercion to get people involved in something new. However, I have resorted to begging. In this particular case, I resolved to engage in neither. I will take out my frustration in this situation through what the blogging world may refer to as a vent, by just letting loose with the conviction that worksheets for learning a new language are SO passé.

Sometimes I feel like taking someone by the shoulders and shaking him and asking, ever so gently, "How did your mama teach you English in the first place, son?" I don't know about you, but my mama taught me English by talking to me. Listening to me. Laughing with (and sometimes at) me. By saying prayers, tucking me in at night, kissing me goodnight, and fixing me breakfast in the morning. You better believe I was dreaming in English by the time I was knee high to a grasshopper. And if it worked for me and my mama, it'll work for you.

Spanish worksheets are boring. I feel that I am well qualified to make such a bold assertion. After all, I started studying Spanish by doing worksheets. And I admit that there is certainly some merit in practicing a grammar point ad nauseum, or in writing out in longhand all the conjugations of a verb. I often encourage my students to write things down or to make flashcards or use repetition to the benefit of their memory skills.

However, the idea that a classroom or a textbook are the only (or best) ways to learn a language are illusions created and supported by this public school nation. Worksheets are busywork. They are easy to reproduce. They are easy to grade. They keep large groups of human beings occupied, during the dangerous, hormonally-charged and politically raging period of adolescence and young adulthood. Worksheets have their time and place, to be sure. Without them, young men and women might get married a lot younger, and our society would perhaps look very different. I am not entirely dismissing the validity of the occasional worksheet. Currently, I pay 10 cents a page, and confess in all contrition that over a twelve year teaching career, I have singlehandedly destroyed a small rainforest, which my FaceBook friends are only beginning to replant with their little green patch requests.

But don't let me mislead you. I hazard to say that you will not learn as much Spanish as you may want or probably need by just doing worksheets. Some things in this life have to be learned with hands, heart, ears, feet, mouth, and intestines. You may have heard that the way to a man's heart is through his stomach. I don't know about that. My husband, bless his heart and his stomach, will eat just about anything I throw at him. That's one reason I married him--he's someone who likes my cooking. But I think that the way to a man's linguistic centers in his cerebral cortex may also be through his estómago. Anyway, it's a good reason to avoid Taco Bell in favor of the little Mexican places in your neighborhood, like La Rancherita (Hobart/New Chicago), or El Amigo (Valpo), or "Nuevo León" (Pilsen, Chicago). Or wherever you live.

Be brave. Join the Spanish Sigh Club. And let's hear your susurros and your gritos en español. As a language learner and as a teacher, I can only summarize the evidence I have witnessed with my own ears. My best students' success stories, and my proudest linguistic moments, have not been in a classroom. Spanish, like English, like Chinese, like Swahili, like Catalán, belongs in the real world. Get out there and use your skills, baby. Let's see how you sound in another language.

Te estoy escuchando,
Señora F.

Spanish Actores

Yesterday in our multi-age class at Redeemer Lutheran Church in Highland, we acted out the story of Moses and the bullrushes from the Old Testament.

One of the moms read the Arch Books version of the story, in Spanish, in rhyme (published by Editorial Concordia, part of http://www.cph.org/). Another mom dressed up as "el faraón" with a colorful blanket as a kingly cloak. Two girls wanted to be the princess, so they both dressed up in a Cinderella costume from the Disney store that I borrowed from my daughter. We wrapped a gold shawl around the two of them, and they were a collective princess. At age 5, with a keen imagination, anything is possible. We had actors play the parts of Moses' mom, sister Miriam, and brother Aaron.

We used a blue blanket and a doll in a basket to recreate the river scene. I interrupted the story on each page to send the actors in the right direction to act out each scene. The children repeated appropriate responses in Spanish as we told the story.

Move over, Dora! Interactive communicative Spanish has never been this much fun. There's nothing like hands-on learning, getting your hands dirty, wearing a costume, and speaking from the heart.

Hasta pronto,
Señora Fields

Despedidas

"Breaking up is never easy, I know," sings ABBA, el conjunto de rock de los años setenta. But a veces, saying goodbye causes us to look back, to appreciate, and reflejar on the past.

Today a very special class, Spanish for ministry, finished its initial semestre. What a clase--with students from Lutheran, Methodist, Jewish and Presbyterian backgrounds, with an age span from 8 months (my daughter, who visited us once), with a high school and a college student joining in sporadically, and a couple very serious students in their eighties--and representing a racially and culturally diverse group--nos juntamos to learn Spanish from a God-fearing perspective. We read los Salmos. We sang varios himnos. We read Scripture. We discussed la poesía, el arte, la literatura, y together we learned about culture, immigration, religion and ideas that are the mainstay of Hispanic cultura.

(Notice that I'm codeswitching. That term refers to using words from idiomas diferentes, whichever language comes out primero or makes more sense. It's often how real bilingual people really talk, once they know each other and feel relaxed and comfortable in both languages).

Today's class was unique. A friend from México spoke to us about topics of interest to those who work with immigrants: what coming to the USA is like and why people do it; what religious differences and similarities face people who transition into a new life in America; and why our governments operate the way they do, and how that affects our lives and those of others. If Spanish for ministry isn't about communicating in real life, then I don't know if it's really ministry. We watched a documentary called La Frontera, which brought us to the border of the US and Mexico in pictures, tele-journaling, and collage.

All in all, Spanish para el ministerio has been un gran éxito because we can use Spanish to meet others and share the Gospel ahora mismo, right here, right now. We decided that we like one another and our topic so much that we are only saying hasta luego, and we'll be back in two weeks.

Menos mal. I am glad that this was an easy goodbye and that we'll see each other soon. I really love this class.

Hasta pronto,
Sarah

Why Don't They Just Learn....

My first Spanish class was in Irving, Texas at the park district, with a teacher had two thick grey pigtails. She was named María and she spoke English with a beautiful accent and a big smile. She was from Brazil and her first language was Portuguese. I had learned a tiny bit of Spanish prior to that from a sort of homeschool swap that my mom did, perhaps in exchange for babysitting, from a woman named Lisa who was married to a man from Madrid. Lisa came over a few times, and told us fairy tales using puppets, all in Spanish. She also taught us a supersticious but catchy rhyme for helping kids believe their boo-boos were all better:

Cura sana,
Colita de rana,
Si no se cura hoy,
Se curará mañana.

It sounded just like some kind of alchemist's chant or witch's incantation. I don't remember anyone ever using the rhyme on an injured kid, but the rhythm and rhyme helped the words stick in my head.

So why start there? Well...why not? We lived in Texas. Spanish was available. Dad said to me, "Learn Spanish and you'll find ways to use it someday." So I started to study.

Twenty four years later, I'm still studying. I learn new Spanish words in many a conversation, even though I'd estimate that I speak Spanish about 30-40% of the time. Whenever I overhear someone say, about someone from another language or culture, "Why don't they just learn [my language, whatever that is]," somewhere deep inside a tiny voice in me pipes up and hollers, "You have no idea." Learning a language, like any skill, requires sacrifice, time, patience, humility, and persistence. I don't know if I have any of those skills in great supply. Maybe you don't know whether you've got them, either.

Mostly what you need is what you already have. Curiosity. A willingness to try. Courage enough to let yourself make mistakes. Confidence to keep trying.

So, why don't you just learn Spanish? I ask myself that every day. Why don't I learn a little bit more today? Yes, I think I will.

Enjoy the journey. Buen viaje...

Singing in Another Language

Singing in another language is common practice for experienced singers. It's a great technique for learning language, also.

Music makes poetry memorable. With the notes, the words are easier to recall. The melody carries a sentence as it floats along, and the rhythm and rhyme harmonize in an unforgettable way that is attuned to the way our brains think.

To teach a song in a new language, I often begin by doing some speaking and repeating back of short phrases, to learn to pronounce the lyrics. Then, we sing and repeat short phrases of the song with melody, to familiarize the group with the tune and how the words fit to music. When the group seems bored, I sing the entire song or at least a first verse and refrain, so that they can see what the big picture will sound like and what our goal is. With an objective in sight, it's easier to be motivated to work towards that reward (as long as the song is one that they like and are hoping to learn.)

Practicing a little bit at a time, over a period of days or weeks, works well. Our Sunday school learned four Spanish songs in six weeks, with 10-20 minute singing sessions each week leading up to our program in church. All told, we learned 30 vocabulary words, including the lyrics to Jesus Loves Me. The children challenged themselves and grew tremendously in their respect for the sounds of another language, the concepts and expressions of another culture, and of their own ability to take on a challenge.

Here's to you and your musico-linguistic adventures this week!

Am I fluent?

“How do I know when I’m fluent in Spanish?” is a question that language students sometimes wonder. I have given thought to this question, first as a learner and then as a teacher of languages. What are the defining characteristics of a person who has achieved complete linguistic fluency? I’m not sure I have the answer, but here are some thoughts about the question.

A common assumption I hear from time to time is that a language learner is fluent when he or she dreams in the target language. This criteria seems to me to be too arbitrary, because some people dream often, and I know language learners who are quite beginners who have experienced the joy of having a dreamed conversation in the new language they are barely starting to study. I also know fluent speakers who, through some vitamin deficiency or sleep difficulty, seldom dream at all—and yet during their waking hours, they speak a second, third or fourth language as well as their first. While dreaming in other languages may be something to wish for, and perhaps a way to gain easy extra practice a language we’re studying, and—when such a dream happens, something to enjoy and be grateful for—our dreams are not under our direct control, and they do not mean that we are fully fluent necessarily. If you’re in your first months of studying Spanish and frustrated that you haven’t dreamed in Spanish yet—let go of the pressure you’re putting on yourself, and let language happen as it comes.

“Am I fluent when I’ve finished second-semester of second-year college Spanish?” Most people in the US who go to college are expected to take 4 semesters or the equivalent in a second language, in order to attain a bachelor’s degree in any subject. I have witnessed many students come out of these language programs, even with A and B averages because of their good study habits and test-taking talents, and still prove themselves to be mediocre communicators in the language they have “learned.” Also, I have met people who speak very eloquently in a language in which they have had no formal instruction, ever. Just as we all have unique talents and skills, each of us has different preferred methods of acquiring new knowledge. Language learning can be done in a classroom, in a friendship, or through travel—and the time it takes depends more on the individual God-given abilities (and the hard work) of the person who wants to learn than on the number of hours, the setting, or the price or reputation of the classes.

Fluency is considered along a continuum rather than a on-off switch, as in, “I finished that class, so now I’m fluent” as if getting a degree or passing an exam proves that the goal of linguistic fluency has been achieved. Fluency is a process and language learners are lifelong students. When you read a great poet or novelist in any language, even in a language you have been reading for many years, and in which you have read dozens or hundreds of literary works, you will, from time to time, run upon a word that is not familiar, and to which none of the linguistic paths you know lead to an educated guess, and you are driven in humility to the dictionary to learn something new. Language acquisition is either an adventure, a series of discoveries, or a treacherous and tedious task of admitting ignorance. Either way, we learn as we go.

A friend of mine Finnish by heritage, but was raised by missionary parents in Taiwan. His father, a pastor, was Finnish but spoke such fluent Taiwanese that native Taiwanese professors in the country would call on him for linguistic advice about obscure words in that language’s complex writing system. His son, my friend, was in a sense a native speaker of Taiwanese because he was raised in that country—but his parents spoke Finnish at home, and his international school spoke English, so he was not as fluent in Taiwanese as his father (who taught himself). This story calls into question the meaning of the idea of “native speaker.” I admit that when I was first studying Spanish, I scoured the registrar’s catalog to find an instructor whose name belied that person’s “native” heritage. I wanted to learn from someone who spoke well—and relied on the last name to guide my selection of a qualified teacher. Universities are legally not supposed to inquire in the job search about whether a candidate is a “native” speaker (although I have been asked this question, and have seen it in job postings). Is it a good question to ask? Is there a reason for a person whose job it is to study, preserve, research, and instruct students and society at large about language, literature and culture to be native to that culture? The US has a law that the nation’s President must be at least 35 years of age and native of the country in order to serve in that capacity. While these criteria are arbitrary, they were selected by the founding father’s with the intention of having a qualified occupant in the high calling of holding the Oval Office. Does it seem important for those transmitting and preserving language, literature and culture, and (to some degree), creating and promoting cultural understanding, to have the innate ties of a personal, blood connection to those roots? I venture to say, at the cost of my own academic future, that being a native speaker is worth a great deal. Fluency is essential—and can be learned. Personal native heritage cannot be bought, earned, or acquired, except, perhaps, by a willingness to immerse oneself into another culture, live it, become part of it, and—for example, in the case of poets such as Massachusett’s Charles Simic, contribute to creating it. Though he is Serbian-born, he is an American poet. And while he speaks English with ever-so-slight an accent, he is fluent. More fluent than this native speaker will ever hope to be.

“What about when I can use all the verb tenses correctly and have a 5,000-word vocabulary?” Learning grammar is necessary to achieving fluency. Adding vocabulary sets provides each communicator with the ability to converse about increasingly diverse subjects. But linguistic fluency goes beyond just knowing words and rules. There is a cultural and contextual aspect to language learning. If I understand well enough to translate all the words of a joke, for example, but do not understand the cultural contextual clues that make that joke funny in a certain culture, then I am not fluent enough to “get” the joke. That’s why some aspects of language learning are best achieved outside the classroom, in the real world.

“Why is it that when I am relaxed, or with friends, or after I drink a beer, I am able to communicate so much better?” Learning any subject or skill is easier when we are not under extreme pressure to judge ourselves. Some level of expectation to succeed may cause me to exert the necessary effort to communicate better, while feeling inadequate to the task at hand may cause me to clam up or fear making mistakes so much that I am not able to learn anything new. A delicate balance is achieved.

Dr. Gilbert Meilander of Valparaiso University wrote an essay about “Bringing One’s Life to a Point.” In it, he discusses a moment of truth in which he spoke openly about a matter of great controversy, and identified himself, among others, as holding a certain position—which brought him a flood of animosity and criticism in the ensuing weeks and months. There are moments, perhaps not so dramatic, though, in the life of a language learner, in which we identify ourselves, take a stand, and have a linguistic breakthrough of sorts. The first conversation in Spanish in a public place, where others may turn around and stare, may be one such occasion. The first halting conversation in Spanish with a native speaker who does not speak English can be such a moment. And there will be others: the first time you go to the hospital in Spanish, or buy an expensive piece of equipment or property and, without the presence of a translator, you sign a contract that you have had to rely on your language skills in order to sign—these are moments of truth in which you take ownership of Spanish, and bring your reality “up-to-date” with the language that you are acquiring little by little.

I was 19 when I rented my first apartment. The transaction took place in Barcelona, in Spanish, and it was a thrill. I was young enough not to realize how scared I should have been—and there were times I regretted the choice I made—and, since, times that I have been very grateful that things worked out the way they did. Leaps of faith are hard—but God is good, and “all things work together for good, to them that love the Lord.” I urge my students to be sane, be brave, and be trusting in God as they march into the world to acquire language and experience. Boldly, legally, and with expectation to learn much.

When I was in high school, our choir director Mr. Moore, had a music club for his students. He took a moment during the first semester of freshman girls’ choir to invite us to join. He said the club had three levels, and by joining we would become better singers and musicians. There was no cost involved in joining, and assured us that it was not competitive, and that we would know right away when we were in. The introductory level was open to beginning students who wanted to try to sing better. In order to join, a potential member had to go to a public setting (like the grocery store, a theater, a church sanctuary, or a park) and sing a song out loud—not having anyone being present to witness the event would be fine. The second level of the club involved performing a vocal number in a similar public setting, with a human audience. The mastery level of the club could be attained only be singing in public and inviting audience participation (and getting the group to sing along). The first two levels came easily to me at age 14, but I know adults who still do not have an easy time with public speaking or performance. For me, the third level of the club took more time; I had already been teaching Spanish at Columbia, and singing in a choir there, that I led singing with a group of friends, served as cantor in the local Lutheran church occasionally, and had other opportunities to initiate group singing. The most rewarding and memorable experience of that kind happened en route to a Glee Club performance in Manhattan, at an opening of a show in an art gallery. The choir members took the train. It was the last week of classes, right before Christmas, and our program included some familiar Christmas carols and wintertime songs. We serenaded a car on the 1-9 subway train, and were richly rewarded with smiles and nods, a scowl or two, and the companionship of some impromptu performers in the train who sang along with us.

I tell this story to share the idea with you, not so much as a “club” as more an attitude. If you want to become “fluent” in Spanish, you don’t have to speak perfectly. Rolling your Rs is secondary. The important aspect of fluency, I believe, is communication. Good grammar certainly helps to make you a good listener and a better speaker. Ample vocabulary invites you into new fields of conversation and study. But being able and willing to engage with your audience, to show interest for other speakers of the language, and to enjoy being involved with Spanish by learning about the myriad of cultures, traditions, lifestyles, cuisines that Hispanic cultures encompass—this is the key to fluency. Enjoy the journey, take pictures, eat well, and don’t worry too much about finding out the answer to the famous childish question, “Are we there yet?” Your fellow travelers will enjoy the journey with you much more if you adapt such an open and positive attitude, and they will spend more time learning beside you and teaching you when you make yourself a pleasant traveler yourself. Buckle your cinturón de seguridad, hang on tight, and, by the way, buen viaje.

Practicing Between Classes

How do I practice between classes for myself or with my kids?
Thanks to a great question from Cyndy, mother to three of my students.

Working Spanish phrases into your daily routine as you learn new expressions is a great way to practice in context. Learn to set the table in Spanish in class--and then go home and do it every night for a week. Owe someone a thank-you note? Write it in Spanish (and then translate it if need be!) Be creative... try, try, and try again even if the words don't come easily on your first attempt.

Practicing language is like practicing a musical instrument. In high school I played the harp. I practiced once a week, Fridays after school, so I wouldn't make a fool of myself during my Saturday morning lesson. Needless to say, my teacher could tell. She didn't like me (I could tell). Once I went to a competition. I stayed up all night Friday night so that I could learn the piece well--and I got a blue ribbon. My teacher was not happy because she knew how I operated.

As you already might have guessed, I'm not a harpist anymore. Practicing a little bit every day works better than cramming all at once. I suggest that you find five minutes a day to do something in Spanish. The Lord's Prayer. The alphabet. A song. A favorite Psalm. A short reading from the newspaper. A Spanish radio station in the car. Ordering a sandwich at a favorite restaurant. You will work Spanish into your routine if you make yourself be creative about finding little niches of time. Tape a list of vocabulary by the bathroom sink. This study aid will not make your bathroom look "messy" but rather, your visitors will be impressed by your self-discipline.

Do you have a pen pal over the internet who knows Spanish? I have found several through web forums I'm on. If you have a career or a hobby, find someone in Latin America or Spain who shares that same profession or interest, and "talk shop" in Spanish or bilingually, for additional practice. You'll build great sets of vocabulary that way--and learn about something you already like. That is a very motivating way to learn the language you need about a subject that is familiar to you.

Read in Spanish. Get a copy of a free local Hispanic newspaper. Read the Bible in Spanish, or read a bilingual version with two parallel columns. Read something that is already familiar to you--favorite Scriptures, a novel you know well that has been translated, etc.

When you eat out, if you have a server who is Hispanic, try speaking Spanish. Will you offend? Probably not--especially if you are kind, and humble, and explain that you are new to learning Spanish, and want to practice, and hope they will be patient with you. Otherwise, they might wonder if you think that they speak bad English--so be sensitive and polite, and then jump right in and get a free lesson on greetings, foods, and social conversation--while enjoying a good meal.

I have previewed lots of tapes and CDs for learning Spanish. My favorite so far is by Ana Lomba and Marcela Summerville. It's called _Play and Learn Spanish_ and it's a book and CD that go through the daily routine of getting up, dressed, meals, playtime. Lomba is a Spanish-for-preschool teacher and small business owner in Princeton NJ. She is from Spain. Marcela Summerville is from Argentina. Their CD gives a good set of very "international" Spanish vocabulary, because of their diverse backgrounds. And as they act out the scenes and songs, the regional accents are apparent. I got a copy at Barnes and Noble for about $15 and I have recommended it to many students. It's fun to listen to. We listen to it obsessively in the car, and my five-year-old, just yesterday, was hurrying to get dressed to leave and singing in Spanish to herself "apurate, apurate" (hurry, hurry)--and why won't my accent mark work today? There is supposed to be an accent over the "u" there.

Why a children's CD--even for adults? Because I believe there is something inherently child-like about a language learner. I sometimes felt like a little girl when I lived overseas during college. I was often lost, or left out of conversations. I had to ask questions. I didn't always know what to say. Sometimes people treated me like a child and made decisions for me, or against my will. That was humiliating and difficult. Some talked down to me, as if I might not be able to understand. Others treated me with respect and dignity while speaking clearly so I could learn--and that meant a lot to me.

I believe there is something to be said for the way God created us as language learners. We learn as babies, starting with a listening period, then making and practicing sounds while we learn to understand meaning, and then reproducing those sounds into meaningful speech. A second-language experience at any age can be similar. It's a glorious moment for a person to open his or her mouth, after a long period of listening, and find that he or she is bilingual and understood in the newly acquired language. Fluency is something else...it takes time, and is never defined. Am I there yet? we may ask ourselves. This is a question for another post. We're getting there.

Flashcards are good for improving your grammar. Make your own. I edited a set of flashcards for SparkNotes. I enjoyed the job, but never bought myself a copy when they were published, because they wanted ten bucks, and because I know that we learn more when we do things for ourselves. I did cash their check, though, and spent it on my family. :)

One of my star students, very self-motivated, made herself a textbook. It started with one list. She opened a computer file in her word processing program, and now between classes she makes lists of words and grammar as she learns them. She adds to her notes as we learn together, and week by week she goes home and returns to the computer file to make changes and notes that make sense to her. She has lists which are organized and grouped by the way HER brain works. Her memory for new words is astounding. She writes them down, and the next week she doesn't have to look them up in her notebook because she learns by organizing herself. It has taken discipline and effort for her to make time in an otherwise very busy professional life to learn a second language. After a couple years, with her hard work, she is able to converse freely in Spanish. I'm honored to have her as a student.

Not everyone learns in the same way. I would say, be brave, be creative, and find ways to practice that work for your personality and your lifestyle. And your brain--because each person is unique. When you find a system that works for you, pass it on so I can share your idea with other students. Or write a book about how you learned, so we can help teach others a second language. :)

Many of my students write and turn in little essays. I correct grammar and ask questions. That's a good way to learn new words and I love getting to know my students through their writing. So write to me about something that YOU love, whether it be a pet, a person, a field of study, a favorite recipe, a trip you're planning, a theological idea, a favorite sport--I learn with my students, always, and I'll be glad to have you teach me about what you care about.

Feliz Dia del Padre (Happy Father's Day). There's an accent over the "i" in Dia and I'm very embarrassed about the accent marks today. I have my work cut out for me today, and I will be having a conversation with my "computadora" about this issue. We had it all worked out an e-mail or two ago... but I am calmly telling myself that, compared with my dear laptop, I am bigger and I am human, so I think I can negotiate to get the accents to come out like they're supposed to. We'll keep you posted.

Hasta pronto, (until soon),
Sarah

Spanish for the Whole Family Starts Today in Highland

We're meeting at Redeemer Lutheran Church in Highland, Indiana. We'll be learning at mixed levels and mixed ages (mostly beginners). This class is for members and friends of Redeemer Lutheran Church. Welcome! Join us if you'd like to learn some conversational Spanish.

In previous sessions we have done: colors, numbers, introductions, greetings, animals and sounds, giving directions around town, clothes, going on a trip, songs, nursery rhymes, bible stories, puppets, authentic Latin American games, and some Hispanic culture. We'll continue with more along those lines...and you will fit right in. :)

Learning linguistics in utero and beyond

As an undergraduate at the University of Illinois, I took a class in psycholinguistics. The professor cited a study in one of her lectures about how babies learn to distinguish between the sounds of their native language even before birth. Language scientists found that French-Canadian babies could tell the difference between the sounds corresponding with the letters "P" and "B" (as defined by Canadian French linguistic standards) from their experience listening to their native language within the womb. Exactly how the researchers communicated these questions and interpreted the responses from the little fetuses did not stick with me, and I have forgotten those details in the ten years or so since I took that course. But what still amazes me is that human babies are wired for language from before birth. We call our first language our "native" language. I think of language-learning skills being "innate". Those word origins relate to the root idea of being "born" but perhaps the words we use should express some of the language-learning that happens prior to birth as well. This week I'm giving some thought to a word that might express in-utero language immersion. If you have any illuminations in this area, and decide to coin a term that is apt for this idea, please let me know.

I have performed some informal research along these lines in our living room, and at the kitchen table. During pregnancy with baby #3, I spoke Catalán on a semi-regular basis. Sometimes I spoke out loud in Catalán with my older children, or read aloud to myself and to our baby #3 in my womb. During the week of my dissertation defense at Columbia, I met with my former Catalán professor, and we chatted in his office. We were both surprised that even since I've been living in Hobart, where the Catalán population is so small I haven't found anyone to practice with yet--still, I could remember plenty to converse on a variety of subjects. Baby #3 in utero kicked and seemed pleasantly soothed by the linguistics taking place around her. Within a few days of her birth, I read some Catalán recipes aloud to our yet-un-named baby girl. She smiled and seemed especially content. I acknowlege that it could be that I'm not that objective about my baby's psycholinguistic abilities, especially considering that this observation took place during the emotionally vulnerable moment of four days postpartum. But perhaps baby Mary really does like the sounds and rhythms of a language that Mommy also likes. I'm open to the possibility.

Last October, at my parents' barn blessing and housewarming party for their new Wisconsin home, (http://www.cooksvillefarmhouseinn.com/), I met a neighbor of theirs in the little town of Cooksville who researches genetics at the UW Madison. He's also Catalán--and his wife invited me to introduce myself to him in Catalán to see how he would react. At the party, we all enjoyed a nice conversation in Catalán, in which baby Mary was included in the fellowship, so that was another evening of practice for both of us.

The point is this: children learn what they are exposed to. Raising bilingual children is not easy in a culture where one language dominates, and where resources, materials, and relationships with other languages and their speakers takes effort. By nature, we tend to do what is easy. If it's available, we'll give it a try, but if not, most of us are fine with remaining monolingual. Whether pregnant, or baby-wearing, or raising a gradeschooler, I think we as parents have a responsibility to nurture our child's language skills.

I'm grateful for the opportunities I have to immerse my children in Spanish, and to teach other families as well. Yesterday my son told a friend from Colombia that he was wearing "pantalones". Since he's been in the silent period of language acquisition (and in his case, the silent and skeptical period), I'm glad to hear him making some inroads into communication. He decided to talk with my friend. Selfishly, perhaps, I wish he'd also talk in Spanish to me. And in time, perhaps, he will. For now, I'm just glad that he knows what "pantalones" are and how to talk about them in Spanish when he feels like it.

Mommy & Me Spanish

Mommy and Me Spanish for babies, toddlers, and mamás is beginning next week in Valparaiso Indiana. Class location will be Au Naturel Market. We will learn greetings, colors, and numbers, using puppets, singing, and movement. Wear comfy clothes in case we sit on the floor.

E-mail for more information if you're interested in joining us.

Virtual Groundbreaking for Spanish Sí

Spanish Sí has been a brainchild for years. We are now a reality. Launched in 2008, Spanish Sí is a small business providing classes, tutoring and translation in Northwest Indiana.

The organization offers reasonably-priced Spanish classes for individuals and small groups, from beginners through advanced, and available to all ages. Specializing in classes geared for the student's unique needs, Señora Fields' classes have been designed in the past for groups of clergy, homeschoolers, business executives, international relations professionals, medical professionals, beginning translators, and journalists--to name a few.

Señora Sarah Fields has ten years' experience teaching Spanish to various ages, ranging from 6 months to 93 years. She holds an earned doctorate in Spanish literature from Columbia University, and has studied and taught language in Texas, Chicago, New York, Barcelona, and Indiana. Señora Fields also provides translation services--to be used sparingly, because, eventually, she will urge you to begin to learn the language yourself, of course.

People sense a need for learning a second language from any age. The US public schools generally provide a four-year window during high school to study language at the cost of the taxpayers, and some students have the privilege of continuing their linguistic education in a college classroom or study abroad setting. Prior to those two windows, few chances are made available to study another language.

This approach does not mesh with the studies done by psycholinguistics researchers, who have demonstrated that language learning begins in utero, and that prior to birth babies can identify the sounds that are unique to their own mother tongue. Learning a second language, in cultures where the majority of the population is bilingual, trilingual, or more, starts from birth.

Some of the Spanish Sí classes are for mixed ages. Sometimes educators are puzzled about this approach. How will pre-readers and readers work in the same room? I contend that those of us who were raised monolingual all learned our native language in a multi-age setting, among peers and mentors of mixed abilities, in the odd but Divinely designed unit of the family. If you trust your first language skills, why not try learning a second language in a similar setting?

Sometimes colleagues comment on the pictures on the Spanish Sí website (http://www.spanishsi.com/). Why are there no classroom pictures? Those comments come from people who did not learn to speak English in a classroom. Perhaps those critics did learn a great deal of Spanish grammar in school setting, and that is a good thing. But immersion-style classes, which are proven to be most effective and most efficient in teaching language thoroughly and well, require the use of the whole planet of vocabulary sets, many of which are hard to discover and explore in a classroom. We do what we can to recreate the real world indoors. And sometimes, learning Spanish takes us outside.

Some students prefer to meet in a coffee shop. One student learned Spanish while inviting Señora Fields to provide company and language skills on errands, grocery shopping, exercise jaunts, and field trips. Some families prefer to hold classes in their homes, while many churches provide an ideal setting, whether in a classroom or the church nursery.

A dear friend who now teaches at Princeton taught herself Italian while growing up in Eastern Europe. She learned from a dictionary. Now she is teaching literature in the Ivy League. I have students ask often if they can learn Spanish from tapes or CDs, such as Rosetta Stone. I always respond that, while I have never personally met anyone who spoke a language well and said they learned from an audio program, I do not exclude the possibility from the realm of verisimilitude. Yes, I believe it is possible.

Welcome to the Spanish Sí blog, dedicated to promoting the learning of Spanish as a second language. Bienvenidos... and stay a while for the tertulia (table talk). We're glad you're with us.