Thursday, October 6, 2011

Learning about learning

My teaching class is in the Social Work Building, and every time I enter there, I reminded of the weight of my responsibility.

My class is full of people who speak at least two languages each, not to mention linguistic jargon which is a tongue of its own. We adore language and wear our L2 and L3s like badges on our chests.

But one day soon I'll be teaching people who speak only one and if they're lucky, they'll be literate, too. They probably won't see English as something fun to pick up on the side; mastery of it is necessary to survive in the brutal monolingual United States.

I hate to feel like I'm learning to impose my language on others, because it isn't any better. Everyone thinks they need to speak English to do well in life, and it is sad but true. English is just popular because it was at the right place at the right time.

The best I can do is be at the right place at the right time. I won't be a hero or anything, but knowing that I'll help people gives me motivation.

And I laugh because I still remember myself saying, "I'll never ever be a teacher."

I'm still shamelessly bad at Spanish.


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