On the way to our cars last night after Bible Study, my Argentine friend Silvia threw me a friendly “Adios, Senora.” Rather than respond with a friendly "Ciao," I was tongue-tied, caught off-guard by the Spanish (or Castillano) that used to come so easily for me. Although not my native language, as a young adult I had become somewhat fluent, having completed a minor in Spanish at SJSU. My favorite profesora had also been from Argentina; and when I first met Silvia, I recognized the accent and felt an immediate affinity for my new friend.
By the early 1980s I would even dream in Spanish. I was teaching Spanish at Valley Christian Junior High. I even served as group translator for short-term mission teams from our church who traveled to Mexico to hold Vacation Bible Schools; to Argentina to build a seminary for Harvest Evangelism; again to Argentina as part of a worship (singing) team for a week of citywide crusades; to Colombia with New Tribes Mission to build a teacher’s home and classrooms at a boarding school for the children of linguists working to transcribe the languages of indigenous peoples in the Amazon rainforests.
I had lofty plans that we would raise our kids to be fluent in both languages: I would speak Spanish to them; Andy would speak English. Once Westin was born, however, the demands of parenting a newborn overshadowed my bilingual ambition. I quickly reverted to my native English for daily conversation.
Our last trip to South America included one-year-old Westin, who snuggled contentedly in the baby backpack while we traveled to local schools and churches performing “Bullfrogs & Butterflies,” an evangelistic puppet show for kids and families. Our smiling toddler loved the musical puppets and the children’s attention after performances.
That was in 1992, and since then I’ve never been called upon to translate or to even think in my second language. Well, that’s not exactly true. In 1993 I taught a weekly Spanish class to four homeschooled kids. And before we began homeschooling 5 years ago, Westin & Susie attended a school where roughly 80% of the students came from Spanish-speaking homes. In order to converse with other moms, I was forced to pull out my by-then-rusty Spanish. However, the North American Spanish of my new friends was much more difficult to understand than the European or Argentine dialect I had used over a decade earlier.
Since we began homeschooling, my own kids (now 13 and 16) have dabbled in learning Spanish using a textbook, Standard Deviants DVDs, and Rosetta Stone CD-ROMs. But I am no longer the competent native speaker who can provide them that immersive experience in a foreign language. They’ve also completed a Beginning Sign Language Course on 16 VHS tapes, and taken a six-week American Sign Language class with other homeschoolers taught by a deaf instructor. Susie seems interested in continuing in ASL.
Bilingualism is a big plus living here in California where people whose grandparents spoke English are fast approaching the minority. Being able to speak more than one language opens up wider opportunities for employment and friendships. I do regret not having made more of an effort to pass on my love for and acquired skill in the Spanish language.
Silvia's casual comment, and my lack of response, got me thinking about how much has changed in my life. In college I majored in English. I loved to read. I wrote well and daydreamed of writing articles which would be read by people other than my professors. While the reading has continued as a hobby, I almost never write. Then I thought of Stephanie Iles and Tammy Takahashi, two homeschool moms I know who blog. So now I've decided to become one, too.
[Stephanie - did you notice my semicolons?]
By the early 1980s I would even dream in Spanish. I was teaching Spanish at Valley Christian Junior High. I even served as group translator for short-term mission teams from our church who traveled to Mexico to hold Vacation Bible Schools; to Argentina to build a seminary for Harvest Evangelism; again to Argentina as part of a worship (singing) team for a week of citywide crusades; to Colombia with New Tribes Mission to build a teacher’s home and classrooms at a boarding school for the children of linguists working to transcribe the languages of indigenous peoples in the Amazon rainforests.
I had lofty plans that we would raise our kids to be fluent in both languages: I would speak Spanish to them; Andy would speak English. Once Westin was born, however, the demands of parenting a newborn overshadowed my bilingual ambition. I quickly reverted to my native English for daily conversation.
Our last trip to South America included one-year-old Westin, who snuggled contentedly in the baby backpack while we traveled to local schools and churches performing “Bullfrogs & Butterflies,” an evangelistic puppet show for kids and families. Our smiling toddler loved the musical puppets and the children’s attention after performances.
That was in 1992, and since then I’ve never been called upon to translate or to even think in my second language. Well, that’s not exactly true. In 1993 I taught a weekly Spanish class to four homeschooled kids. And before we began homeschooling 5 years ago, Westin & Susie attended a school where roughly 80% of the students came from Spanish-speaking homes. In order to converse with other moms, I was forced to pull out my by-then-rusty Spanish. However, the North American Spanish of my new friends was much more difficult to understand than the European or Argentine dialect I had used over a decade earlier.Since we began homeschooling, my own kids (now 13 and 16) have dabbled in learning Spanish using a textbook, Standard Deviants DVDs, and Rosetta Stone CD-ROMs. But I am no longer the competent native speaker who can provide them that immersive experience in a foreign language. They’ve also completed a Beginning Sign Language Course on 16 VHS tapes, and taken a six-week American Sign Language class with other homeschoolers taught by a deaf instructor. Susie seems interested in continuing in ASL.
Bilingualism is a big plus living here in California where people whose grandparents spoke English are fast approaching the minority. Being able to speak more than one language opens up wider opportunities for employment and friendships. I do regret not having made more of an effort to pass on my love for and acquired skill in the Spanish language.
Silvia's casual comment, and my lack of response, got me thinking about how much has changed in my life. In college I majored in English. I loved to read. I wrote well and daydreamed of writing articles which would be read by people other than my professors. While the reading has continued as a hobby, I almost never write. Then I thought of Stephanie Iles and Tammy Takahashi, two homeschool moms I know who blog. So now I've decided to become one, too.
[Stephanie - did you notice my semicolons?]
