Origin story - French pain and Spanish delights
I immigrated to Toronto when I was around 9. I didn’t speak much English apart from textbook phrases and random words like 'salad' I memorized in grade school (I still dislike salads).
For those of you that might know, learning a foreign language is a multi-year ordeal, and something that you can’t do overnight or master within a year.
By the time I oriented myself in school and figured out the basics of elementary school survival, I was faced a new challenge - learning French.
At this time I struggled with just day to day classes in English, nevermind another foreign language. I was just a normal kid, no super intelligence here.
Then for the next 5 years of Ontario education, I mucked around French classes in agony and did my best to glaze over my French education.
Despite having the sincere desire to learn, taking tutor classes, and asking my friends for help all those years. I simply couldn’t grasp the language and it wouldn't stick, it was vastly different than everything I had known at the point.
I gave up and lost hope in trying to decipher this impossible language. Somehow, I managed to pass all my classes with the bare minimum, thanks to Google Translate and potentially any plagiarism. But if you ask me in person, I will neither confirm nor deny 🤫.
Around grade 8/9, I had a good command of the English and had friends that I spoke English with. My brain had switched from Mandarin to the English gradually over the years, and to this day I use English as the language of choice to think in.
It’s interesting to me, because I never thought about how this English learning process came to be. I watched a ton of kids TV, and picked up much of it that way, as well as speaking to my peers.
Immersion was a big part in my English learning and success. Perhaps that was why I could not pick up French in Ontario. But, I will challenge anyone who thinks immersion is the only secret sauce to learning a language.
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I decided to study Spanish in high school. I thought why not, it's a new language that I have no associated trauma with. Maybe I simply love to torture myself, forgetting the nightmare that was French in all the years past.
The experience was refreshing. People who took the class, were generally people who wanted to be there (or people who already were fluent but wanted to boost their grades).
Everyone was more or less starting from scratch, and we were all on the same page. I no longer felt like a lost toddler in a big playpen.
We had fun learning the language. We practiced speaking to each other early on, before we even knew how to count to 10. Perhaps we started this way with French, but I had missed the fun part and only remembered grammar sheets. We even had professional latino musicians that showed us how to play Latin instruments. We experienced and loved the culture, before we even learned all the rules and intricacies of the language.
I was hooked after that semester, and it ignited my passion for language learning. I went to Cuba for my high school grad trip and even got to use some Spanish with the locals. The trip was a rewarding experience, and having a bit of success motivated me to continue. I am glad I didn't stop learning languages after my bad experience with French.
Perhaps it was because I chose to learn Spanish for fun, and not because it was a requirement from school.