Real Life: Spanish Class

          My Spanish Grammar and Composition course is going to be the most difficult for me. =( I am trying VERY hard to stay as humble as possible. I have not bragged about my history with the language, nor with my culture. I haven't told anybody that I was born in Mexico, nor have I tried to correct or talk down to anybody in class, but when asked to speak I refuse to hide my abilities, I respond strongly and with confidence... These are all things that I didn't do in high school that got me in trouble with the teacher, I recognize it was very immature of me. So I am trying to engage this class differently. ----- 

          In terms of speaking, accents, fluency, consistency, and confidence, the class simply cannot compete with me. Not even a little bit. I'm not being cocky, it's just the way I have perceived it... I have been paying close attention to the abilities of the other students, and I think I have a pretty good understanding of where my abilities fall amongst the others. The truth is that in some ways, my Spanish is better than the teacher's. She is an American born, non-native speaker, so her accent is, for lack of a better word, silly, and her speech is almost always too formal. Too perfect. She lacks the spice that makes Spanish what it is, her expressions are very black and white, and she doesn't say things with any sort of conviction. It's all rather monotone... Even when she talks about emotion or passion, it feels like she's describing a scientific or mathematical method.  

          I would never say these things to her, and I recognize that she is a University Professor, so she MUST know her stuff. She has a higher vocabulary than me, and she is absolutely more fluent than myself... She deserves her job. It's just that I have been nothing but respectful, and humble, but I don't think she has taken much liking to me. Compared to other students, she doesn't smile at me, she seems annoyed when I raise my hand, and never gives me any sort of praise for when I do get the grammar correct, let alone when I speak. I don't want to sound arrogant, but I think she resents me. She has been studying the language her whole life, it's her career, maybe even her passion. So when a young, confident, attractive young man, who has never taken any classes, comes in and just naturally does what she has spent years learning to do, I can see why she would be a little cold towards me. I'm afraid she has had previous experiences with native speaking students who were probably rude, or condescending with her, and so she might have a predisposed animosity towards students like myself. She works very hard to make sure I know my "place." Which is fine, I know I am in HER class. But regardless of my positive and gentle attitude, she has remained very passive-aggressive towards me. I don't know how to explain to her that I'm not a womanizer. That I'm not an arrogant macho, and that I appreciate what she is capable of... That I WANT to learn. ------

           In terms of Grammar and writing, I am admittedly very close to being the worst in my class. I've never studied the grammar, I've only learned through real life experiences and through real world application. I can honestly say that I've learned all of my spanish by 1) listening very hard to the words, but more importantly by being aware of the context, and 2) by making mistakes. That is my secret weapon to learning so well. By making LOTS AND LOTS AND LOTS of mistakes. So I'm proud of what I have been able to learn outside of the classroom. I feel like I have earned the right to be proud of myself... I have grown so much as a person simply from learning to cope with the insecurity, and trust me, there is a lot of insecurity, of ALWAYS being wrong, of ALWAYS sounding stupid, of ALWYAS being told to say it differently... I have learned from people who are ALWAYS fluent Spanish speakers, (most don't speak english), old people, young people, rich people, poor people, boys, girls... EVERYONE. I couldn't fool them like I could my high school classmates, so I had no choice but to learn. ------ 

          In contrast to the University students and the teacher, who have spent years and years perfecting their vocabulary and grammar, getting A's on their tests and advancing based on American standards of Spanish Fluency, I cannot quantify my advancement in terms of a Spanish level. Nobody set a bar and told me ,"Learn this much, and then you're good." or "In order to be fluent you must be fluent with these techniques." I had MY OWN motivations. MY OWN goals. MY OWN standards. Nobody can ever imagine how guilty, insecure, embarrassed, and inferior I felt to not be able to communicate with my family in Mexico. Especially with my Abuelita. So I made a promise to myself at a very young age... I must have been 11 or 12.... To be able to have at least one full conversation with my abuelita in my lifetime; and eventually to do the same with my great uncle adolfo, because he was my grandfather's older brother. I devoted myself to it. I remember being 15/16 years old, sitting on the park bench with Abuelita in Cuernavaca after having spent one month with her not knowing a single thing. For hours and hours, we struggled to find the words, yet we somehow managed to discuss my individual relationships with my siblings, how I felt about them, my take on the divorce, my relationship with Mary, the hurt, the pain, the anger, the sadness, the loss... It was my abuelita who made me realize exactly how lucky we are to have Kelly, it was my abuelita who showed me how foolish it would be not to accept and appreciate Kelly for everything she is and has done and will do. I expressed to her emotions and sentiments that I had never been able to share with anyone else before, let alone in a foreign language.... She told me about our families history, my ancestors, her parents and siblings. She expressed to me the importance of spirituality and described the potency and depth of her religious beliefs...We cried together. It was one of the most personal and profound moments in my life. I was so gracious to have had that experience with my grandmother, and I considered that my own personal graduation in spanish. 

          I was still curious to know about my grandfather, and I only knew what my grandma and dad had told me. I was determined to speak with my great uncle Adolfo, if only to ask him what kind of person my grandfather was. What his personality was like. How did he become the man that he did? One day in Mexico City, when I was 19, I had the opportunity to go on a very long walk with my uncle Adolfo... It seemed like we were gone for hours. I asked him a few days earlier about my grandpa, but he answered only briefly. I didn't want to press him, I assumed he had forgotten by then.... so I was content with walking and discussing my goals, dreams, and passions. Discussing everything i felt about American women, and how Kelly changed that, how Kelly in many ways saved me... I talked about my frustration with not having been exposed to more Spanish as a child. We discussed the many many many differences and similarities between American and Mexican culture, what it's like to be a Mexican-American and the child of an immigrant, to be a Mexican born tourist in Mexico, and and an American raised outsider in America.... how difficult it is to feel both separated and a part of both cultures at the same time, and how I have been lucky enough to take the best of both worlds. 

        

          He told me about the history of his family, about my ancestors, and their successes and struggles. He outlined and spoke about ALL the living members of the Zendejas family, including the recently deceased and newly born. He pointed out several buildings along the walk and gave me a brief history of their functions and purpose, I remember him telling me about his youth, his wives, and his beloved children. ----------  At one point, we stopped in front of an ancient looking, decrepit building that looked as if it was on the verge of collapse. It was abandoned and really creepy, with the lawn unattended, windows boarded up, and main entrance falling in. In the front yard was a dilapidated play ground with an eerie swing-set... My uncle went on to explain to me that this was my grandfathers elementary school, and that Adolfo used to walk my grandpa to school every day. I just stood there speechless, shocked, and in awe of being able to have some sort of physical evidence of my grandfathers past. And then Adolfo told me about his relationship with my grandpa and what he thought of him. This was also one of the most profound conversations of my life. I had, again, personally graduated by meeting my own goals...... And I did it without having to take any classes...... ------ 

          If I want to say something in spanish, I don't think about HOW, I just DO... and for the most part, I do it correctly. But when the teacher asks me the most simple question about the preterit or the imperfect tenses, I freeze up. I don't know what she's talking about. I'm not embarrassed because I know I can say it, I'm just frustrated to think that I can't recognize what I'm doing. And that I'm being penalized for it.... I have earned my Spanish on my own, so I resent being dismissed so quickly for such a silly technicality. I'm trying very hard to learn what I can, and keep sight of the fact that I have bigger goals for my future, that this is only one class. I know I have MANY MANY MANY things to learn about Spanish  I am NOT yet perfect, I don't think I ever will be... But I know that I'm not as incompetent as this class is making me feel.....