Tales From the Third Grade

So as most of you guys know, I am responsible for a crop of adorable (“devilish though they may be”) second and third graders as a counselor at Recky’s Day Camp. And as you can imagine, I’ve been covertly using them to conduct informal field studies of language acquisition, literacy, and bilingualism (in essence, I am being paid to do amateur linguistic “research” with unsuspecting, unpaid subjects… I love my job). So, I thought I would share some cute and surprisingly enlightening anecdotes.

First, I have a seven-year-old boy named Jason, who is of Chinese descent, but was born in the United States. His parents speak Cantonese (most of his family is from Hong Kong), some Mandarin, and English. His mother has also lived in Paris and speaks fluent French, and is teaching him a little bit. He has two-year-old twin siblings, who only speak Cantonese. One day a couple of weeks ago, Jason was telling me about how he goes to Chinese school to learn how to write in Chinese, and how even though Cantonese and Mandarin are different, they have the same writing system. He told me how he found learning to write Chinese very hard, because you have to memorize lots of characters—one for each word. I said, “It’s not like English, is it? Because in English we have letters that stand for sounds instead of words. The sounds all put together make up the word.” At this point, another boy piped up: “Yeah, that’s why English is the easiest to read! Because the letters stand for sounds! But it’s also the hardest to pronounce, because we have letters like ‘ph’ that make the wrong sound.”

So these kids not only have phonemic awareness, but also an idea of how writing systems vary in different cultures for different languages—which is more than can be said for many adults today. In short, these kids are AMAZING!

Jason tells me that he is “A little bit Chinese, a little bit English, and a little bit French,” because these are the languages that he speaks. He speaks English best, followed by Chinese, since as a baby his parents spoke both languages to him, but he has spent more time immersed in English because he goes to public school in the United States. He speaks only a little bit of French because of his mother, yet still counts this as part of his linguistic, and therefore ethnic identity. On the subject of language and identity, this is kind of a revolutionary idea. Jason looks Asian, and clearly grew up in a home with some Chinese customs—to any person on the street, he would just be an “Asian kid.” But to Jason, his ethnic identity is much more complex. He feels that because he speaks English and French also, he therefore partakes of the cultures that speak these languages, and therefore they make up part of his ethnic identity.

Jason may learn later that most of the world does not see ethnic identity in this way. Or, Jason may simply be part of a post-racial generation—where our definitions of “identity” are based on culture (I include language in this, even if some linguists might disagree) rather than biology (in race or in ethnic group).

Pamella is eight-years-old and grew up in a bilingual household, speaking both Spanish and English. Her father is Colombian and her mother is Peruvian. Like Jason, she makes fine distinctions between different dialects. She knows that her family speaks Spanish, but sees a distinction between the way her mother’s family and her father’s speak Spanish. “It’s the same language but it’s different. Sometimes they have different words for the same thing.” I tried to explain to her that it’s the same with British and American English. Pamella also says that speaks “more Peruvian than Colombian,” because her mother and grandmother speak Peruvian Spanish. For me, this just reaffirms the mother’s critical role in teaching language to her children (from “baby talk” in infancy and beyond). Sometimes I wonder if it had been my mother who spoke Spanish in my family, if I might have picked it up as a child. Quién sabe?

I like to practice my Spanish with Pamella sometimes, but I’ve noticed that whenever I speak to her, she’ll answer me in English. I used to think she did that because my Spanish was so poor. Then my Spanish instructor at Berlitz told me that the same was true of her kids, who are bilingual. I realized that the same is true of many other bilingual families I’ve known. (And now think about all the kids our age who have told you that they can understand a language that their family speaks… but can’t speak it.) Is it because the non-English language becomes secondary for the child after living and going to school in the English-speaking United States? I wonder.

Sometimes the counselors also have to speak to parents who speak little English. One day, I got this fabulous note from an ELL parent—a juicy ELL writing sample:

“To. Recky

This is Seoyoung’s mom.
She is gonna be absent tomorrow.
We are going to go to North Carolina to visit my aunt.
Thanks for your understand.”

Of course, I read this and absolutely loved it! Look at Seoyoung’s mother’s brilliant use of “gonna” as an English idiom. She’s a bit ahead of the curve, since “gonna” isn’t really accepted as legitimate in written English yet (though it should be and probably will be soon enough). She also chooses “thanks” as the informal, abbreviated form of “thank you.” She has mastered the present progressive-plus-infinitive construction, demonstrated in “we are going to go.” She also recognizes and makes use of two different meanings of the verb “to go” (she knows “going to” expresses an event in the future, as opposed to the general meaning of the verb, which expresses movement). She only misses by using “understand” instead of the gerund form “understanding,” where she means for the word to function as a noun—the object. Not sure what’s going on with her use of the period instead of the colon in “To. Recky”—though I do know some Koreans who use it instead of a comma in writing letters (ex. “Dear Amy.”), or for some reason include it at the end of titles (ex. “An Introduction to Hungarian Folklore.”). Otherwise, this note is completely clear, coherent, and understandable. Seoyoung’s mom showcases ELL at its finest.

--Amy

Update: different languages, different mindsets?

Hey, guys... just wanted to follow up on the whole bilingualism issue. Check out Alison and Erica's comments under the post "Different Languages, Different Mindsets?". Alison links us to a couple of particularly relevant studies of that confirm our sense that different parts of the brain are used for L1 and L2 (which apparently is always true, no matter how fluent you become in L2?)--and that seems to explain the difficulty we have in switching back from one language to another, particularly after a long period of time (when we immerse ourselves in one language for a long time, it's hard to get back out!).

Anyway, on the subject of language immersion, I guess I wanted to throw out a related question... I'm wondering what role cultural immersion plays neurologically when using and "getting into" an L2. (Current language pedagogy insists on cultural fluency as a vital part of foreign language learning; we tell ourselves that the best way to learn a language is to go abroad and immerse ourselves in the culture of the place; and even Senor Damken imparts the mantra to us: "Grammar and culture mesh.") I could be wrong, but I think the Chomsky types would say that culture actually plays a minimal role (seeking to erase that perception of language as being an outgrowth of culture) in achieving fluency. I'm not sure if the linguistics benefits of being abroad go beyond simply having a steady stream of authentic, varied input in L2. If we could recreate that situation in the United States, and just surround a test subject with native speakers of the subject's second language (so that the L2 only was spoken around the test subject for an extended period of time)... I wonder if having that experience in the United States vs. in the foreign country would make any difference in how involved the test subject became in the language (cognitively speaking) and whether or not the test subject acquired the same kind of fluency he would abroad (i.e. immersed in the culture). Desperately seeking research...

Also check out this video on TED. Susan Savage-Rumbaugh works with bonobo apes that have acquired written language! The whole thing is really interesting (the apes also seem to understand human language--English in this case), but things start getting really crazy around 10:55, where she shows us clips of the apes using lexical symbols to communicate with humans! The conclusion she draws from this is somewhat spottier, I think. My sense is that maybe bonobo apes tell us that humans aren't the only species with a language gene--or the capacity to acquire language, however it is built-in. By contrast, Savage-Rumbaugh seems to believe that, in light of the bonobos' abilities, we must reconsider whether our talents (language, writing, etc.) are biologically-programmed and unique to us, or whether they're a function of exposure to culture. She's right in that writing is, in fact, a cultural invention rather than a hard-wired ability. But I'm still not willing to attribute the bonobos' ability to acquire language to culture/socialization.

--Amy

Different languages, different mindsets?

Looks like Fluent members are on the same wavelength, as usual. Kim and I were talking the other day about friends who are fluent in two languages, but find it hard to switch back from one to the other after extended periods of time. (I have a friend who grew up speaking both English and Spanish, but considers herself to be more fluent in English. She goes to Colombia once or twice a year and speaks only Spanish for about three weeks. When she comes back to the U.S., she finds it very difficult to switch back into English.) Then I got this e-mail a few days ago from Angela, who said something really similar:

"...Anyway, I was thinking about how different languages sometimes utilize different parts of the brain. I realized that whenever I think in English, I have to go with the English pronounciation and whatnot. Even when I'm reading about something Chinese and I know the Chinese equivalent for the English word, I have to use the English version. It's most noticeable with city names and proper nouns, but if I start using in one language, it takes a conscious effort to switch. I guess this is a part of why I don't really understand people who can combine languages, like Spanglish. For me, when I took at one language, I can't translate it word for word. I can get the gist of it, but that's about it. If you want me to translate Chinese to English, it's going to sound terrible. On the other hand, if you give me both translations, I can tell you if the translator did a good job or not. It's almost as if I need to be in a different mindset in order to speak a different language."

So I guess I have a bunch of questions to throw out there:

1. Has anyone had or does anyone know of a similar experience (having trouble "switching" languages)?
2. Why does it happen? Do different languages actually utilize different parts of the brain (in the way Chinese and English reading do, according to the dyslexia studies we looked at last month)? How and why does the brain "get used to" operating in a specific language?

I want to find some research to make sure what we seem to be sensing isn't just folk psychology... but please feel free to weigh in (especially if you find info on the web or otherwise) so we can get to the bottom of this!

--Amy