Nov 02 2008
Why Didn’t I Learn a Foreign Language?
Why Didn’t I Learn a Foreign Language?
I remember that in 7th grade, a nun decided to teach us French. Her name was Sister Cecilia. I don’t think she was particularly fluent, but knew enough to teach 7th grade beginners. We had to volunteer to take the class, because we gave up some music classes in order to take French.
I learned a few words, but then my Father caught me practicing at home one night and he raised a big “red” flag. He said something to the effect that speaking a foreign language was “communist” and so I was to stop taking the class. Period. I watched the rest of the “french class” kids give a final presentation where they tried to speak French while serving each other Twinkies, which they cut with a knife and fork (couteau et fourche). Ha ha. It was funny to listen too. I didn’t regret dropping out of THAT class.
Seems like taking a foreign language in high school was the thing to do during the 1960’s. Most everybody I knew was enrolled in at least one foreign language class. German was popular, although I couldn’t understand why; that war was over. French was big with the girls, but…well, too wimpy for real men (see above). Spanish was easy, or so we were told, but my Father would not allow foreign languages. Kaput. (He is German.) There were kids taking Russian, which made sense since we expected to go to war with them and maybe we would all have to speak Russian someday. Nobody, but nobody thought there was any reason to learn Japanese or Chinese.
That was it until I was in the Navy and we were on our way to the Mediterranean area with port visits scheduled in Spain, Italy and France. I tried to learn Italian from an onboard instructor who was an Italian guy from Rome. He called his school the John F. Kennedy School of Foreign Languages in Rome. (This was 1967) Our text was a cheap mimeographed copy about one-half inch thick. So much for that. I did try to speak French when I was drunk one night around Christmas time in Marseilles, France. I swear that the drunk Frenchman I was speaking to could understand every drunken french word I said.
In college, I tried to learn Spanish and I was successful in memorizing hundreds of words. My problem was that I am pretty much tone-deaf whether it is music or language, and I although I could read Spanish and say some sentences, I couldn’t understand a word anyone else said. It was all Greek to me.
Yesterday: Why Didn’t I Go HOG Wild?
Tomorrow: Why Didn’t I Learn to Play a Musical Instrument?
