A rose by any other name...

"What's in a name? That which we call a rose by any other name would smell as sweet," declares Shakespeare's Juliet. I suppose the concept expressed here is that the names of most objects in all languages are arbitrary. A rose is still a rose, whether it is named in English (rose), Spanish (rosa), Portuguese (rosa), or French (rose), all with different pronunciations.

I've had plants on the brain recently because it is finally springtime in my part of the world. I find myself wanting to do nothing but think and plan for a garden full of gorgeous flora. Because I live in a bilingual community, plants are often identified egually by their common English or Spanish names. Could some of my garden plants have Spanish names that are more evocative or descriptive than their English names? 

Take the humble snapdragon. I planted one large snapdragon in a pot in the courtyard last fall. It survived through the winter, putting on new yellow blooms as the frost date passed. Its name in Spanish is perritos, which translates into English as 'puppies.' A new name gives me a new way to look at the snapdragon. Yes, with a little imagination, those snapdragon blooms could be a litter of newborn puppies!

One of my favorite plants is sedum, which I grow pots. What a tough little plant. It never complains about the weather or my erratic watering schedule. And even though sedum waits until fall to bloom, the show of pink color it puts on is well worth the wait. The Spanish name for sedum is hierba callera. Calling it a hierba (herb) seems to give sedum some status in the plant world. The callera (from callo-callus) must come from the appearance of sedum as it springs to life each March.

And then there is the honeysuckle vine. Its blossoms do smell as sweet as honey, but the Spanish name, madreselva, (mother of the jungle), reminds me that honeysuckle will run rampant and take over anything in sight.

A favorite desert plant is the Ice Plant. It is a common ground cover with fleshy stems that bloom in several colors. Google Translate says the translation is a boring planta de hielo, but in El Paso, Texas, I more often hear it referred to in Spanish as dedo (finger), which I find to be much more picturesque. And since the ice plant comes in different size 'fingers,' there is the large dedo del rey (king's finger) and the smaller dedo del niño (child's finger). I much prefer the Spanish translation.

Here are a few other Spanish plant names that for me add interest to common plants. Caladiums, with their colorful leaves, are known as papagayos (parrots); canna lilies with their large blooms are called banderas (flags); sunflowers are girasoles (turn towards the sun); chinaberry trees are named by their scent, lilas (lilac). The tough desert willow tree is the acuahuitl, a little difficult to pronounce, but evocative of ancient Aztec civilizations.

And there are two more plants (as yet unknown to me) with fascinating names that I found in my research. A plant in English called 'Yesterday, Today and Tomorrow"\ in Spanish is galán de noche (young man out on the town), and the English 'goldfields' is rendered in Spanish by 'Si me quieres, no me quieres' (You love me, you love me not). 

Naming plants in different languages of course doesn't change the essence of the plant, but naming choices may encourage us to see our common plants in a new light. Let's get to planting!

Don't let the term 'Linguistics' turn you off!

I can't tell you the number of strange looks and remarks I have gotten from acquaintances when I tell them I am interested in and teach courses in Linguistics.  "What's that?"  they ask.   My usual answer, "It's the science of language,"  doesn't create much enthusiasm (much to my dismay!)

Sometimes I try to become more socially acceptable by just saying I am interested in languages. Languages are a part of the definition of Linguistics, but it is only a small piece of the big Linguistics puzzle.  Let's take a closer look at some of those (fascinating!) puzzle pieces.

Most of us acquire our native language between approximately the ages of 18 months and four or five years. We probably don't remember how we acquired language from our surroundings, just like we don't remember how we learned to crawl or walk.  How young children acquire language is one of the big mysteries that linguists try to explain.  Are babies born with a blueprint of sorts in their brains that make language acquisition possible in a few short years?  Do babies need to hear perfect language to learn to speak? Can adults affect the way children acquire language? Interested? Read up on First or Child Language Acquisition, and you'll also learn about Chomsky's Theory of Universal Grammar.  

Once a language is acquired, linguists have other problems to contend with such as:  How do new

words come into a language?  Do they just enter a language willy-nilly, or is there a predictable pattern?   Is is okay to bring new words into a language ?   How is it that we can guess what a made-up word like 'conker' might mean? (Someone who 'conks', right?)  Interested in these topics? Study up on Morphology, how words are created in our brains.

"The angry woman hit the man with the umbrella."  Who had the umbrella?  The angry woman or the man?  Can you make your brain switch back and forth between those two possibilities?  How is that possible?  A  solution could come from the Linguistics field of Syntax, the study of how phrases and sentences are put together in the brain.

If your brain combines 'with the umbrella'" with the angry woman, then you can picture her brandishing the umbrella like a weapon.  If, on the other hand, your brain combines 'with the umbrella' with the man, a different picture emerges.  An innocent man holding an umbrella may be getting punched by the fist of the angry woman.  And of course, syntacticians would love to draw you one of those dreaded tree diagrams to prove their point, but you can always politely decline if graphics aren't your thing!

Another important piece of the Linguistics puzzle is the sound systems of languages.  Why are you probably born with the ability to understand all sounds from all languages, but later on in life, when you are learning Spanish, you have trouble rolling that 'rr'?  Why are sounds easy to understand separately and often more difficult when they are combined in a word with other sounds?  Would using the International Phonetic Alphabet (IPA) aid in learning sounds of other languages?  The Linguistics fields of Phonetics and Phonology address these questions.

Partial IPA chart

Whew!   A student once told me that studying Linguistics made her brain tired!  I hope this brief discussion of the field of Linguistics has brought you inspiration, not exhaustion.  Thanks for reading!

"Correct me if I'm wrong." Really?

Once we take the plunge into acquiring another language, what we think we want is a patient tutor who will correct everything we say wrong in the new language.  (I'm imagining a Siri-like being who will listen  ad infinitum at the push of a button!) 

Maybe it's an incorrect pronunciation we are choosing, or a wrong word form, or a non-standard grammar usage. If our patient tutor would just let us know when we make an error, we could reach our goal of becoming a fluent second language speaker.  This reasoning makes a lot of sense, right?  Do something wrong, get corrected, do it right the next time. The problem is, with language acquisition, that simplistic formula generally does not have the desired effect.  What, you say?

Let's start with children.  Most parents don't correct their child's grammar. Although they may correct information, like "We are going to Aunt Sally's house, not Grandma Sue's,"  they don't correct form.  As a matter of fact, parents think it is pretty cute when their baby makes an 'error' and says, "Two footses."

Their child is on the way to genius status.  The child has started forming a mental grammar that says in English we put an ending on a word for the concept of plural.  And the child has acquired not one ending, but two, -s and –es!  Soon the little one will start matching the correct plural sounds to words that end in different sounds (like coats and churches).  And at some point the little linguist will realize that adults don’t even use the logical rule for this plural.  Instead, adults use a similar word (feet) with a different sound in the middle, and those illogical adults don’t even attach the ending the baby has so carefully worked out in the brain.  Whew!  Do you see why parents should just let children build their own language in their own brains?  And the good news is, no normal adult that I know still says “footses.”  Children will eventually match their language to that of the surrounding environment.

But how about those of us who are no longer children?  We already speak our native language, we have world knowledge, and we are capable of thinking about language.  Does this mean that an adult second language learner should be subjected to a barrage of error corrections? Wouldn't you like to acquire a language at your own pace, formulating and testing what you think are the grammar rules of that language in your own brain?  If you make some errors along the path of learning your new language, is it the worst possible thing that could happen?  It seems that a sadder scenario would be for the adult learner to become so discouraged by trying to use the language so perfectly at the beginning of language study that the person gives up completely.

How about asking other people not to correct you when you speak your new language?  Tell them you just want to communicate with them, and that you are working out how the language works by listening to their responses.  Your conversation will be much more satisfying as true communication rather than a language lesson disguised as real language use.  Acquiring a new language, after all, should be an enjoyable experience!

What is in your 'black box'?

Linguists would be so happy if they could only take a direct look inside your head when you are using language!  They refer to your brain as a 'black box' because it doesn't give up its secrets easily.  Where is language located? How does language happen? These questions belong to the field of neurolinguistics.

We know (or think we know!) a few facts about language and the brain.  We believe that language is located in the brain.  And because of  experiments that were done in the 19th century in Europe, we believe that certain areas in the brain may be specialized for specific language functions.

We also know that the brain is divided into two hemispheres, named 'left brain' and 'right brain'.  For most people, language is concentrated in the left hemisphere.  You may remember the terms 'left brain' and 'right brain' from pop psychology of several years ago.  Left brain people were described as analytical list makers, while right brain people were creative pattern makers.  It isn't quite that simple or neatly divided. While the left brain is very important in language comprehension and production, the right brain may also play a role.

Here is a diagram of the left brain.  There are two important areas for language.  One is Broca's area, which is the language production area.  Another is Wernicke's area, which is the comprehension area. Although these areas are specialized for language, other areas and connections may also play a role in language.

Aphasia (language loss) occurs when one of the areas is damaged.  Damage to Broca's area results in a patient who may comprehend language but whose speech is  telegraphic and agrammatic.  Only essential words are used and production of sounds may be difficult.  In contrast, damage to Wernicke's area results in a patient who has what is known as 'fluent aphasia.'  The patient can speak but cannot use the right words to create an understandable meaning.

Another interesting fact about language and the brain is that if a child is not allowed to hear language before puberty, the child will never be able to use language normally.  It is as if the brain becomes less flexible after a certain age.  This is known as the "Critical (or sometimes Sensitive) Age" hypothesis.  Fortunately, this is not the case for us "over the hill" second language learners.  It is believed that second language learning involves many areas in the brain.  What a relief!

New imaging techniques, such as fMRI's are helping linguists find out more about the 'black box.' We need to stay tuned, because we are going to learn much more in the future about language and the brain.