abalonepearl

 Therapist #2 isn't accepting new patients. 

The search continues!

I'd like to make a change for my physical and mental health so that I can live my life more productively and happily. I need to take care of my body and my brain so that my heart and soul can be happy. :)

Just writing that down today so that I can be reminded and encouraged that it's for the better. Since the appointment with Therapist #1 fell through (darn insurance!), I need to take the initiative to get help from a new person. I need to take initiative, period. I want to give myself my best chance. 

Happy Easter! <3 I hope that this weekend has been restful for you, and that the sun will shine upon you, wherever you may be. 

EDIT: Oh, and an update from my last post!! I just needed to cry it out for a few days, and pray, and be with other people. Doing better and taking steps to rectify that situation and that hurt as best I can. Healing!

I'm currently reading When in French by Lauren Collins, and I'm really enjoying it. It's a bit of history, a bit of memoir, and a lot of discussion of language acquisition--so it's fantastic. 

I just thought that I'd include some statistics in the most recent chapter of this book: 

• "Only 18 percent of American schoolchildren are enrolled in foreign language courses, while 94 percent of European high-school students are studying English."
• "In 1906 Congress passed a law precluding citizenship for any alien 'who can not speak the English language.' (According to the 1910 census, this amounted to 23 percent of the foreign-born population."

In WWI, these pledges were circulated to schoolchildren: 
 
"I love the UNITED STATES OF AMERICA. 
I love my country's LANGUAGE.
I PROMISE: 
1. That I will not dishonor my country's speech by leaving off the last syllables of words:
2. That I will say a good American 'yes' and 'no' in place of an Indian grunt 'un-hum' and 'nup-um' or a foreign 'ya' or 'yeh' or 'nope.':
3. That I will do my best to improve American speech by avoiding loud harsh tones, by enunciating distinctly and speaking pleasantly, clearly, and sincerely:
4. That I will try to make my country's language beautiful for the many boys and girls of foreign nations who will come to live here:
5. That I will learn to articulate correctly one word a day for a year." 

Collins succinctly summarized the state of language acquisition in the U.S.: "While learning a foreign language is considered prestigious, acquiring one naturally is stigmatized. We think of foreign languages as extremely hard to learn, but we're incensed when immigrants don't speak English perfectly." 

Lately, language acquisition is on my mind (especially as I continue to volunteer in a community ESL program). It is frustrating that the same antiquated ideas are still circulating in the minds of many Americans, and that we are only just beginning to realize the toxicity of forced monolingualism. 

Last night and well into today, I have been thinking about (can you believe it?) the American presidential election. 

I missed the age cut off for voting in this election by a few months. Before the votes were actually being counted, I'd been quite glad about that, telling myself, "At least I don't have to take responsibility for this garbage fire of an election." But oh, how last night I wished that I could've voted--could've done something to make a difference. 

I am a white person. I am a middle-class person. I was born in the States and English is my first language, and so has it been with the rest of my family for well over the past century. I follow a religion that is very well known and not oft persecuted in America. I have operated under an educational system that rewards me for understanding it. I will be going to university next fall, and I will not be going into debt to do so. 

The list of my privilege goes on and on. But so many are not in my circumstances. So many have so very much to fear by these election results. 

A year ago today was the first time that I ever sat in on and volunteered at an ESL (English as a Second Language) class. In this past year, I've been able to learn so much about how little I actually know, about the incredible amounts of privilege with which I've been born, and understanding how I can move beyond that to empathetically understand the experiences of others. One of my students, who I've known since the beginning and have seen grow so much in her English, recently had her case at immigration rejected and was forced to move back to Venezuela. Her fiancé (who had been living here for a long time) is going back with her, even though it's the last thing that they wanted, because they can't afford to apply for a visa again in Venezuela (as the government instructed her to do).

It broke my heart to see her forced to leave. She'd started her life here as a student, and committed herself to working so hard to improve her English. She is smart and kind and creative and loving, but now she's got to go.

And that's just the story of one person trying to approach immigration through the system--she did everything right, and yet still she was rejected. What about the millions of undocumented immigrants who do not have a path to citizenship and face the fear of deportation every day? What about those who have been trying to immigrate for years but cannot? What about those who are citizens and who have immigrated, but fear losing their families to deportation? 

And what of those who have faced and will continue to face racism every day? These protests of late are not without reason--we have so much growing to do in the area of understanding the experiences of others, and of realizing that being color blind does not mean ignoring racial issues. We have so much work to do in the pursuit of racial equality.

Then there's the LGBTQ community--both those who are loud and proud but are now in fear for their futures and rights, and those who may never come out for fear of the repercussions. What a painful time it is for them, and for so many. 

We have so much good left to do. It is my sincerest hope that this president proves us wrong--that he grows and learns from this election, and is able to lead well. I am not optimistic, but oh how I am praying. 

Today I cry for America. I cry for those unnecessarily living in fear by virtue of their existence. I cry for those who are blinded by hatred and think that it is the solution to their problems. I cry for those who will not endeavor to understand the political opinions of others (as I am trying to do...it is hard). I cry for the brokenness of the States, that we thought that this would be the solution to this schism in our nation.

I believe in hoping for the better, and in finding the silver lining, and in praying when it seems hopeless. And I shall do all of those things in time. But for now, I mourn. 

 Things are good. I stayed up late painting. I drank too much caffeine. I'm too sleepy. I've still work to do. 

A good day. A good night. A good week. 

My thoughts on this topic are complex and bizarre, so please don't mind any scattered sentences. If you were speaking with me in person or on Skype, you would be assured that I come by the scatterbrain naturally. And please don't think that I'm trying to sound conceited...I just. I don't know. I struggle sometimes to say my words even in English and not feel guilty for them. Blegh. I don't know.

So throughout my past three years (I've just started the fourth) of studying French, I've undergone a kind of metamorphosis of my views about my place in the Francophone world. At first, I knew that I knew nothing, and was just picking up numbers, colors, and simple verbs, so it was really low pressure. I was totally at peace with my ignorance and was just picking up the basics. At this point, I was pretty much on the same level as everyone else in my French class, but I was happy to be learning how to pronounce words and read aloud in French.

At some point in my second year, another student (not in my year) told me that she'd heard that I was good at French. I remember being surprised by her words and quickly denying them. I was only a second year, after all, and still very new to the language.

During my third year, I began to realize that I enjoyed French more than some of my classmates and that some aspects of it seemed to come more easily to me (pronunciation, and I guess just a desire to participate in class and learn more). But soon, it started to feel kind of like a pressure for me? I was in this weird limbo of being considered good at French by my peers but not feeling super great at it myself. Like, sure, I could do some assignments more easily, and I enjoyed doing them and trying to speak, but as far as my listening comprehension with actual French people, I was so lost.

In the end of second year and throughout third year to the present day, I began to have some thoughts in French. Small ones, and usually not incredibly complex, but they began to happen with increasing frequency (that is to say, maybe 2% of the time as opposed to 0% of the time XD). At first, I was really excited that this was happening and I wanted to share it with everyone. But soon, I realized that it seemed disingenuous of me. I started to feel guilty for sharing when this was happening--like I was bragging about it? Like, "Oh, look at me, I'm so cultured and clearly above everyone." I don't...I don't think that I feel that way (certainly not as much as I used to; I was an insufferable 12 year old, let me tell you). But I still feel guilty about talking about it, even though I *want* to talk about it.

I think more guilt came along with my entry into the world of English as a Second Language classes; I volunteer with a local beginners class for adults, and they're all so much better in English than I am in French. It makes me feel guilty for not having previously understood their struggles in learning English, and I'm so so so incredibly proud of them. But I can't help but feel...out of place with them sometimes? I'm at such an advantage when speaking with them in English (native speaker who has been surrounded by English since birth and been blessed with an education and with a family who encouraged reading and doing well in school).

That's pretty much where I still am: in some weird limbo between beginner and novice, I guess? I know that it's going to take me several more years to reach the level of French that I would like, and I am pretty seriously planning to study it in university (as in, major in it, y'know, that fun stuff). So, this doesn't discourage me from wanting to continue, but it also makes me feel guilty for learning more sometimes?

I guess I've felt that way in English for a long time too. It has felt kind of isolating to enjoy academics in the way that I do, and to happen to have read more as a child and picked up a somewhat broader vocabulary, and have a desire to use it and then, however well-intentioned they may have been, feel isolated by a lot of my peers for it.

I really love and appreciate the people who accept me and my thoughts in whichever words that they happen to come out in, but sometimes I feel so weirdly guilty for enjoying language learning. I guess this might be the product of growing up in a monolingual household, in a monolingual culture? Honestly, your guess is probably as good as mine.