Back to Language Learning
And Its Side Effects
My latest class in my Spanish learning began this week. I am now at the "Advanced" level. That means, in language schools, that I can make small talk with a 6-year old. Or at least that's what it feels like to me. I am able to read a newspaper- mostly. But put me in front of the TV and turn on Univision and I'm lost. I was thinking that maybe after a whole year of these classes that I have been wasting my time.

Then I went to class on Monday and the teacher started speaking more distinctly than on TV and quite a bit more slowly, although not as slow as one might think. She spoke at a fairly moderate normal speed. And I understood her. I wasn't sitting there trying to translate the word she said two sentences ago. In fact I wasn't always even translating. I got the gist of the sentence and all the words and it made sense.

Wow!

I even found myself being able to talke about and describe things and finding words that I had forgotten I knew. I was speaking slowly, but so were all the other class members. I am amazed.

Why am I doing this, anyway? Well, simply because it's there. No work-related reasons, no social statement in this. I have wanted to learn Spanish for years and now I'm doing it. So what if I'm 57. Even old dogs can learn new tricks, as long as the tricks don't require being in physically fit condition. The brain is still at work and still doing well.

But, as I have said before, after all this time, I am again even more impressed by those who move to a foreign country and have to face, day in and day out, the struggle of understanding and being understood. Whether it was my ancestors who came over in the 1820s from Germany or in the 1900s from Russia or the Irish and Italian and Hispanic and Polish and Hmong and Vietnamese and on and on. The courage is awesome. Yes, many had no choice. They wanted the better life or were running away from persecution or famine or sword. But they did it.

We are a better nation, I believe, because of that. Our diversity can be one of our greatest strengths. May we always be cautious to keep ourselves open to the unending stream of possibilities that come from bringing people together.

As always the words on the Statue of Liberty ring out:

A mighty woman with a torch, whose flame
Is the imprisoned lightning, and her name
Mother of Exiles. From her beacon-hand
Glows world-wide welcome; her mild eyes command
The air-bridged harbor that twin cities frame.
“Keep, ancient lands, your storied pomp!” cries she
With silent lips. “Give me your tired, your poor,
Your huddled masses yearning to breathe free,
The wretched refuse of your teeming shore.
Send these, the homeless, tempest-tost to me,
I lift my lamp beside the golden door!