Lent is a time for confession. So I am going to make one.
Мои русские друзья, пожалуйста, простите меня!
Я боюсь говорить по-русски.
I know this is shocking!Why would someone want to try to learn a language and then not want to try to speak it? It’s true. And it is so sad, because your language makes me feel strong and amazingly intelligent. I do not want to sound like we are on a bad date but its true: It’s not you it’s me. It is not your fault it’s mine. And I am sorry. On those rare occasions when some of you have heard me speak, you have ALL told me I speak well. It is my fault for not believing you. So here are my reasons for not doing what I should have been doing.
1) I am afraid of getting it wrong.
- I mean GEEZ!! Can you blame me? Think of all the things I have to think of when I speak that you never have to think of: I have to think of the whole sentence! Where is the subject? Which verb? Which aspect? Did I complete the action? Will I complete the action? Opps! Now we have a preposition so if I say “that” then it is “this” case…and on and on….and I have not even mentioned the issue of pronunciation….which if I get wrong messes everything up completely despite my best intentions.
2) I am limited in Russian:
- SHOCK!! Not only in vocabulary but also understanding of the grammar. After my first conversation with a native speaker. I was painfully aware of what I did not know. So I poured a lot of energy into studying in the hopes of closing this language gap. Now I am stuck in this loop of feeling I have not learned enough so I can’t speak.
3) Then there is the issue of English practice:
- Well now there is the other side of it. I was not just contacting you for Russian you were contacting me for English. I think I grew very comfortable in this role as your friend and tutor. But as you were catching up to me I was not feeling I was doing the same. And let me say for my part. I have been amazed at the strides all of you have made in English. Despite the fact that you do not like articles and think they will just go away.
4) My abandonment issues:
- Ok I will admit this is really, really stupid! (really stupid) In my defense, I had no reason to believe I would still be working with 2 of you after 2 years, and the rest of you a year or more. To be fair, there are some people who have dropped out. I hope the core community I have remains intact and I guess if you have stuck around with me for 2 years I owe you some Russian. (ok, ok I owe EVERYONE!)
You can see it is a vicious cycle… But there is another element here that has nothing to do with you. I now risk sounding like a real whiny baby, but I never thought I was very smart. I always knew I was nice, but never smart. I had to fight for that. Upon reflection this is also stupid because there was plenty of evidence to the contrary, but I ignored it. For example when I was 16 or 17 my parents came home from a school conference with my teachers and said the most terrifying words a teen can hear. “Honey, please come here and sit down.” I remember this story because I tell it to my own students. My parents asked me if it were possible that I could start fighting kids at school, maybe sell drugs or at least light something on fire. Why? They were tired (and rightfully so) of hearing how I was really bright but “did not work up to my potential”. I think I was too interested in boys to think about working up to my potential. I did not even know what a GPA was until I met Chris and then it was too late to really do anything about it. I remember asking him- “So is the GPA important?” Furthermore, it did not help that my guidance counselor thought I should go to a two year school and get an associate’s degree because he did not think I could hack a four year university education. And here is where my mother is my hero, because I remember that conversation also.
“You go back in that office, get the applications for the four state universities and fill them out!! Who the heck does that guy think he is??!!”
Tearfully I filled them out. I was accepted at two schools, I choose the smaller one. After four more years of crying I graduated with a 3.2 (or something like that) and went on to graduate school where I graduated (more crying) with something like a 3.4. It seems I am not stupid, just a really emotional creature.
It is more than just being emotional; I am fearful, terribly fearful. There are times when it feels like the fear and doubt are so strong they will take over my life. As a mother I have nudged my poor husband more times than I care to remember because I was convinced that a peacefully sleeping baby was a victim of crib death. Once, when Ben fell out of bed and I woke up in time to hear him hit the floor. I lay there listening for crying. When there was none, I went to his room convinced to find my darling boy dead on the floor or bleeding from a head trauma. In my mind that would explain the lack of crying. When I walked in he had picked himself up and put himself back into bed. No blood, no concussion. I woke him up anyway to be sure.
So almost every decision I have made in my life had some element of fear attached to it or was at least part of the landscape. I am complete “six” on the Enneagram. (http://www.enneagraminstitute.com/TypeSix.asp) go ahead…read it! My face is practically on the webpage. For those of you who are not familiar with this personality assessment I highly recommend it. Essentially there are nine “points” and with some careful self analysis you can find which point best represents you. It has also been helpful for me to understand why other people don’t see the world the way I do. Not to get into a huge explanation of this assessment but a “six” is known as “the Loyalist” but the other points move around as follows;
1) The perfectionist
2) The helper
3) The achiever
4) The romantic
5) The observer
6) The loyalist (or the questioner)
7) The adventurer
8) The asserter
9) The peacemaker
At their best sixes are: loyal, likable, caring, warm, compassionate, witty, practical, helpful and responsible. At their worst: hyper vigilant, controlling, unpredictable, judgmental, PARANOID, DEFENSIVE, rigid, SELF-DEFEATING, and testy. (emphasis mine)
This is only one tool and as I am not really into personality assessments per-se, I like this one. When I read the section on “me” I have to laugh. And so should you. It describes the typical thoughts of a six: “I am ready for any emergency.” “Was I talking too much?” “Why did I say that?” “Why did she say that?” you get the idea.
Now this same person is studying Russian. It is amazing that I have not needed medication yet. This would be crippling or could be if it was not for my “wings” – The adventurer – fun loving, spontaneous, imaginative, and confident “seven”. Here is where I try to draw strength and do what I need to do. On the other side is - the observer- listening, analytical, persevering objective and wise “five”. This wing reminds me I am intelligent, competent and with hard work I can successfully achieve my goals.
Unfortunately, I often take to complaining about how I can’t make the language work in my head and get easily frustrated with my mistakes. This cycle of defeat is keeping me stuck and not enabling me to make the progress I want. I understand that one way to progress now is to speak even if it is wrong. While complaining one evening one correspondent told me- “You have a tough mind. Keep practicing!” I will of course still speak English with you and continue to help you overcome your irrational fear of English verb tenses and noun articles. One friend in Russia always says to me before we speak “Let’s jump!” So yes…I will jump because I trust you.
Sources:
Baron, Renee & Wagele, Elizabeth. Enneagram Made Easy: Discover the 9 Types of People Harper San Francisco, 1994.
Wednesday, March 31, 2010
Monday, March 15, 2010
Reflections from the first glorious Russian summer- 2008
After I began my formal classes, my Russian correspondents were happy to help. As I began these classes in the summer I had the time and space to study and practice. For a few weeks it was a pretty comfortable pattern. My class was on Thursday, so I would spend the weekend working on my exercises in the book and early in the week over Skype Irina and I would go over vocabulary. I soon learned how to send scanned copies of the pages of my textbook so she would know what I was reading and writing. In my first class I was instructed that I needed to write my Cyrillic letters in the handwritten form, not block printing. I needed a little pastoral counseling on this. Handwritten Russian of course looks different than block printed letters same as English. I spent an entire weekend with penmanship paper carefully learning these letters it seemed for the first time.
I began to get used to writing in Cyrillic I was also impressed by how neat my handwriting looked. I liked the Russian student I was becoming. I was very proud maybe a little too much. I decided to scan and send my written work to Andrey. At this point most of motivation was becoming a deep desire to impress all three of them. Andrey had worked so hard with me and given so much time. I was eager. My heart was like that of a small child wanting to impress a favorite teacher. I decided to impress him, with of all things, my penmanship.
I can hear the collective laughter of every teacher I have ever had. My mother and my grandmother have amazing penmanship. I always envied how beautifully formed their letters were. My grandmother in particular had handwriting that was so beautiful it was made for sepia colored postcards. My father on the other hand had penmanship that was completely illegible. When my father returned to get his university degree in his 40’s he used to handwrite all his research papers and my mother would type them for him. These were the days before computers and word processing. This was a typewriter in the most typewriter-y sense of the word. I remember one evening in particular I was working on homework at the kitchen table and my mother was in the dining room typing up a paper for my father. I think it was on the Civil War. I am working to the dulcet tones of tak- tak- tak my peaceful study interrupted by the occasional outbursts from my mother; practically apoplectic yelling “PAUL! What the hell does this mean!!??”
In graduate school I learned a secret to improve my messy handwriting. I discovered that writing in another alphabet actually improved my handwriting in English. As a teacher I write on a board everyday as part of my educational pedagogy. After spending an entire summer practicing writing in Russian if I was not thinking. I would begin to teach my class and mix up Latin and Cyrillic letters on the board.
Using a new alphabet has a learning curve, and Russian has a steep one. What I received back the next day was covered with red marks and an added page of instruction on how to form the letters. “Too many curlicues! See attached pages.” I forgot Andrey is not easily impressed. I was determined so I learned and practiced the letters his way. Someday we may be sitting at his table in Tashkent getting ready to go to the market. I fully expect him to hold up my neat shopping list before we head off. “Elizabeth, what in God’s name is дбмя!”
And so it goes on through the fall. Russian class every other week now more and more vocabulary to learn. I am using the website Irina invited me to and have become a faithful user. This new site has actual lesson modules one can work through and interestingly enough much of the vocabulary presented follows my textbook if not in exact word then in theme. But in reality the best thing about this site is that as the fall progresses I am adding new Russian friends to help and work with. Even with all these new friendships in exotic places like Ryazan, Kaluga and Izhevsk I still treasure my online conversations every week with Leonid. What started off as earnest yet struggling conversations as the weeks go by we can both hear real progress. Leonid has a dry and quick wit which in fact does translate into English. He is extremely patient with me which I have always appreciated. I need them both. Andrey to kick my butt and Leonid patiently waiting for me to pronounce (over and over and over) a word like: добросердечный. I have often said to him that one day we will sit at a table eating, talking and moving deftly between English and Russian as if no barrier exists or ever existed. He told me this is a good dream.
The best thing about Leonid and one reason why I love to work with him is that he always has a good story or saying. He tells me about his time in school, the compulsory military service, how he became a member of the Communist party, what life was like in Russia during Perestroika and Glasnost, how life has changed. Conversations with Leonid are always a minimum of 2 hours and I always learn something and sometimes even some Russian. As time has gone on I have become very comfortable trying to speak Russian with him I used to be too afraid of disappointing him but that is another story….
Life and reality soon break into my idyllic study. By the end of October I realize I need to take a break from the class and will be on my own. I cannot return until June. I begin to panic. I feel like my needs are so great no one will be able or willing to help me. I feel like I may become a burden. So I hang back a bit I try to work on my own. I send Andrey a few things but it as if my brain, once a furtive factory of Slavic sounds has now shut down and the machinery. I can feel the rust creeping into my brain.
For nine months in the spring, summer and fall of 2008, I fiercely held onto Leonid, Irina and Andrey careful not to upset them or overwork them. With some varied success in my opinion. Politics tends to set Andrey off. I honestly can’t blame him and often agree with him although I am not sure he believes me. I understand his deep suspicion of American democracy and intentions. I know it is never personal. Come to think of it I really should learn “I agree with you.” in Russian. I like that fact that he gets like this because there is a real passion in these explosions. Maybe because the West has always been the enemy so this kind of animosity is natural. While sometimes these conversations have left me feeling stressed I really love talking about politics with him. I hope one day to have one of these conversations in person. It should prove amazing. Maybe it is like being present at the moment of creation. It is fascinating enough in English it must be amazing in Russian. If I ever visit Andrey (and I really hope I do) I will put “starting an argument over US foreign policy” on the list with making him pie, visiting Navoi Park, watching the birds on his balcony, doing the four hour Saturday shopping, and eating famous Uzbek melons. Maybe the tourist office should put him into the promotional materials. I only say this out a real deep affection and gratitude.
I let my Russian class, my Skype practice sessions with old friends and now some new ones and extra online lessons eat up my summer. It has been a glorious summer but I am unsure of how much progress I am making. The summer folds into the busy fall. But by late November I seems to have not only proven to myself that I can learn some basic Russian and can improve but also I have developed a little community around me. By Thanksgiving my contact list on Skype has now added a few more characters that I work with. I also have a new laptop computer so I can bring my Russian and my Russians with me everywhere. Once, when my laptop slid out of my bag and down the stairs at school one of my students exclaimed “OH NO Mrs. Rossano all your friends are in there!!” The laptop was fine. And then one evening I read a passage and said a few sentences to Andrey and sent him the mp-3. Later during our weekly chat he wrote. “I can hear you smile when you speak Russian.” Finally some real progress.
I began to get used to writing in Cyrillic I was also impressed by how neat my handwriting looked. I liked the Russian student I was becoming. I was very proud maybe a little too much. I decided to scan and send my written work to Andrey. At this point most of motivation was becoming a deep desire to impress all three of them. Andrey had worked so hard with me and given so much time. I was eager. My heart was like that of a small child wanting to impress a favorite teacher. I decided to impress him, with of all things, my penmanship.
I can hear the collective laughter of every teacher I have ever had. My mother and my grandmother have amazing penmanship. I always envied how beautifully formed their letters were. My grandmother in particular had handwriting that was so beautiful it was made for sepia colored postcards. My father on the other hand had penmanship that was completely illegible. When my father returned to get his university degree in his 40’s he used to handwrite all his research papers and my mother would type them for him. These were the days before computers and word processing. This was a typewriter in the most typewriter-y sense of the word. I remember one evening in particular I was working on homework at the kitchen table and my mother was in the dining room typing up a paper for my father. I think it was on the Civil War. I am working to the dulcet tones of tak- tak- tak my peaceful study interrupted by the occasional outbursts from my mother; practically apoplectic yelling “PAUL! What the hell does this mean!!??”
In graduate school I learned a secret to improve my messy handwriting. I discovered that writing in another alphabet actually improved my handwriting in English. As a teacher I write on a board everyday as part of my educational pedagogy. After spending an entire summer practicing writing in Russian if I was not thinking. I would begin to teach my class and mix up Latin and Cyrillic letters on the board.
Using a new alphabet has a learning curve, and Russian has a steep one. What I received back the next day was covered with red marks and an added page of instruction on how to form the letters. “Too many curlicues! See attached pages.” I forgot Andrey is not easily impressed. I was determined so I learned and practiced the letters his way. Someday we may be sitting at his table in Tashkent getting ready to go to the market. I fully expect him to hold up my neat shopping list before we head off. “Elizabeth, what in God’s name is дбмя!”
And so it goes on through the fall. Russian class every other week now more and more vocabulary to learn. I am using the website Irina invited me to and have become a faithful user. This new site has actual lesson modules one can work through and interestingly enough much of the vocabulary presented follows my textbook if not in exact word then in theme. But in reality the best thing about this site is that as the fall progresses I am adding new Russian friends to help and work with. Even with all these new friendships in exotic places like Ryazan, Kaluga and Izhevsk I still treasure my online conversations every week with Leonid. What started off as earnest yet struggling conversations as the weeks go by we can both hear real progress. Leonid has a dry and quick wit which in fact does translate into English. He is extremely patient with me which I have always appreciated. I need them both. Andrey to kick my butt and Leonid patiently waiting for me to pronounce (over and over and over) a word like: добросердечный. I have often said to him that one day we will sit at a table eating, talking and moving deftly between English and Russian as if no barrier exists or ever existed. He told me this is a good dream.
The best thing about Leonid and one reason why I love to work with him is that he always has a good story or saying. He tells me about his time in school, the compulsory military service, how he became a member of the Communist party, what life was like in Russia during Perestroika and Glasnost, how life has changed. Conversations with Leonid are always a minimum of 2 hours and I always learn something and sometimes even some Russian. As time has gone on I have become very comfortable trying to speak Russian with him I used to be too afraid of disappointing him but that is another story….
Life and reality soon break into my idyllic study. By the end of October I realize I need to take a break from the class and will be on my own. I cannot return until June. I begin to panic. I feel like my needs are so great no one will be able or willing to help me. I feel like I may become a burden. So I hang back a bit I try to work on my own. I send Andrey a few things but it as if my brain, once a furtive factory of Slavic sounds has now shut down and the machinery. I can feel the rust creeping into my brain.
For nine months in the spring, summer and fall of 2008, I fiercely held onto Leonid, Irina and Andrey careful not to upset them or overwork them. With some varied success in my opinion. Politics tends to set Andrey off. I honestly can’t blame him and often agree with him although I am not sure he believes me. I understand his deep suspicion of American democracy and intentions. I know it is never personal. Come to think of it I really should learn “I agree with you.” in Russian. I like that fact that he gets like this because there is a real passion in these explosions. Maybe because the West has always been the enemy so this kind of animosity is natural. While sometimes these conversations have left me feeling stressed I really love talking about politics with him. I hope one day to have one of these conversations in person. It should prove amazing. Maybe it is like being present at the moment of creation. It is fascinating enough in English it must be amazing in Russian. If I ever visit Andrey (and I really hope I do) I will put “starting an argument over US foreign policy” on the list with making him pie, visiting Navoi Park, watching the birds on his balcony, doing the four hour Saturday shopping, and eating famous Uzbek melons. Maybe the tourist office should put him into the promotional materials. I only say this out a real deep affection and gratitude.
I let my Russian class, my Skype practice sessions with old friends and now some new ones and extra online lessons eat up my summer. It has been a glorious summer but I am unsure of how much progress I am making. The summer folds into the busy fall. But by late November I seems to have not only proven to myself that I can learn some basic Russian and can improve but also I have developed a little community around me. By Thanksgiving my contact list on Skype has now added a few more characters that I work with. I also have a new laptop computer so I can bring my Russian and my Russians with me everywhere. Once, when my laptop slid out of my bag and down the stairs at school one of my students exclaimed “OH NO Mrs. Rossano all your friends are in there!!” The laptop was fine. And then one evening I read a passage and said a few sentences to Andrey and sent him the mp-3. Later during our weekly chat he wrote. “I can hear you smile when you speak Russian.” Finally some real progress.
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