Taming the Language Monitor

A chance conversation with an acquaintance reminded me of one of the most important concepts in foreign language learning — the role of the (subconscious) Language Monitor.  

I think of the Monitor as a tiny strict language teacher sitting on my shoulder when I speak another language, constantly checking what I say to make sure it conforms to grammar rules.

What's wrong with that you may say?  "I would love for someone to make sure I am speaking a language correctly." Here's what's wrong.

The acquaintance asked if I spoke a lot of Italian on a recent trip abroad.  "Not much," I complained., "I could read lots of the language but when it came to speaking....." 

 "What has happened with my Spanish," the acquaintance confessed, "is that I have been studying for two years, and I know so much grammar that it is slowing down my speaking ability.  I used to speak Spanish fairly fluently," she added, "but now my mind is checking everything that comes out of my mouth."  

How about it, reader, have you had a similar language learning experience? Do you have an overactive Language Monitor in your brain holding you back?

A first step in taming the Language Monitor is accepting the that fact that language errors must be viewed as helpful rather than disastrous. 

I know.  No one likes to make mistakes in life. But the idea that you are always going to speak perfectly is not even logical, even in our native language.  We expect babies learning their first language to make constant language "errors."  So will we as adults make many errors as we learn a new language, and it will be a good thing. Our minds will begin formulating our own subconscious idea of how the new language works (its grammar).   

Given the fact that language errors are inevitable in speaking a new language, why not let the Language Monitor clean things up before you speak?  Sounds logical.  But the reality is that specific conditions must exist for the Monitor to do its job. 

-The speaker must know the rule well in order to apply it. Remembering all of the written rules of a language is a difficult task, and many rules remain unwritten and not available for learning.

-The speaker must be focused on form rather than meaning.  (Have you ever made a conversational partner wait until you conjugated a verb in your mind to get the right form?  I have.)

-The speaker must have time to apply the rule.  I am picturing an impatient listener who just wants to get on with the conversation rather than waiting for you to stumble around trying to express yourself in error-free language.

So how about loosening up a little and patting yourself on the back for communicating successfully rather than formulating a perfect sentence?  Did you succeed in getting directions to the train station in Paris?  Were you able to ask for the check and pay with a credit card in Mexico City?  How was your chat on the Via Rail train in Canada with German-speaking dinner companions?

Tell your Language Monitor to cool it until you are writing an email to a new Portuguese-speaking friend whom you would like to impress with your perfect language.  Then you may use your Language Monitor that has been waiting in the wings, red pen in hand so to speak.

Mountain climbing and language learning

Quora, a question and answer website, recently featured a post that caught my eye - "What works the best when learning a new language?" by Gruff Davies.

I'm a real sucker for any information that has to do with learning a new language.  And the opening sentence promising a trick to learning languages made me immediately jump into the information.

In truth, the trick was not one trick but rather numerous tricks explained by the author.  That's okay, because otherwise I would probably write him off as a crank, I know there is no silver bullet for learning languages.    

Gruff Davies effectively uses the metaphor of climbing a mountain for the journey of acquiring a second language.  He reminds us how important it is to understand the task we are undertaking and especially the length of time it will require.  And there's the rub.  Technology has made our modern lives go by in a flash of instant messages, news updates, and life complexities that beg for quick solutions.  How can we squeeze one more activity into our lives?

I'm reminded of an ambitious young professional I met once who informed me with great confidence that he was going to learn Spanish next summer.  My first thought ( which I did not share with him) was that maybe he could begin learning Spanish in three months; however, he would need many more summers in order to learn Spanish to a useful level.  I wish I would have reminded him that, as Gruff Davies states, "Learning a language isn't hard.  It's just LONG."  Be realistic, he cautions.

I decided to apply that advice to my study of Irish Gaelic on Duolingo.  For English speakers, Irish Gaelic is at approximately the same difficulty level as Arabic or Russian.

So when Davies estimates that it takes 600 hours or more to reach fluency in French (an easier language for English speakers), I would have to revise that number upward for Gaelic.  Here's the math.  If I study Gaelic at my current rate  of about 20 minutes a day, 365 days a year, I will have racked up 122 hours in a year.  At that rate, even if it took me only 600 hours for fluency, my journey up the Gaelic mountain would be about five years.

So Davies' message for me is to be realistic about my Gaelic study and to be kind to myself if I don't see instant progress.  I feel better!   

I am never ceased to be amazed at the interest the public still demonstrates in acquiring other languages. Quora frequently has comments related to language acquisition, and Duolingo discussions on language reveal a world full of people desiring to conquer new languages. Google Translate, although often very useful, must not be fulfilling our human desires for communication and the cognitive satisfaction of learning and using a new language. 

The good news about my Spanish class

For the past several weeks on this blog, I have been complaining about teaching methods used in a Spanish class I am taking. Just because the class does not meet my personal needs or expectations is no reason to be a Negative Nelly!

What I needed was a serious attitude adjustment.  I  decided to turn over a new leaf and describe some of the good practices that I have observed in my class.

First and most importantly, the class is conducted 99.9% in the Spanish language.  Using the target language is excellent methodology and very much in line with current findings about second language acquisition.

Listening to excellent, expressive Spanish spoken continuously by the instructor for an hour and a half is music to my ears. I can jot down words I want to remember and observe grammar usage without having to worry about producing language myself.

I remember high school and college classes in which the instructor would use English to teach us about Spanish or French but seldom actually spoke the new language. I hope no one is still making students suffer through that out-date model!  Here is a link to a balanced discussion of which language to use for teaching.

Article on Classroom Language Use - Stephen Krashen

Next, in my current class, many members do volunteer to read original paragraphs aloud. Their willingness shows they feel a certain level of comfort with the instructor.  When instructors are over-demanding, students tend to shut down and keep their language to themselves.

And, finally, there have been instances when I could feel the atmosphere of the class change palpably for the better.  Those instances occurred when the instructor appeared to be just chatting with students, asking non-threatening questions and responding as in a normal conversation. This, I thought to myself, is what language acquisition should be like,

The field of language acquisition in the classroom is an exciting one, marked by much controversy! What is the optimum way to teach foreign languages in the classroom?  I'm still searching for an answer to that question.  Here is a recommended Youtube video if you would like to jump into the controversy yourself!

Language and Ego

Does your ego get in the way of acquiring a second language?  Mine does.  And I believe that lots of us allow ego to take control of our brains, especially when we attempt to speak a new language.

Some synonyms for "ego" are "self-esteem," "self-respect," and "self-confidence."  Cambridge Dictionary Online defines ego as the idea or opinion that you have of yourself, of your level of ability, and your intelligence.  Why does the attempt to learn a new language come into conflict with your ego? 

I know that my Spanish language abilities have become increasing rusty over the years.   I decided to take a step to force myself to speak more Spanish by joining a group of about fifteen adult learners at a local university for the short course, "Spanish Conversation Storytelling." 

We were a quiet group on our first day of class, staking out preferred seating spots and table companions.  The instructor gave an introduction to the course, using clear, comprehensible Spanish. Then she asked us to raise our hands if we understood everything she had said, most of it, or very little of it.  I tentatively (but proudly, I must admit), raised my hand with the "everything" group. 

A little later, the instructor asked us to divide ourselves into groups, corresponding to the three groups previously identified, Beginning, Intermediate, and Advanced.  I could feel ego at work as I debated over joining Intermediate or Advanced.    And I could sense tension in the room as others made their decisions also. Should you join a higher group and put yourself at risk of not knowing as much as the other members, or should you play it safe and be the star pupil of a lower ability group?   I decided to go for it and joined the Advanced Group.   

Four of us identified ourselves as Advanced Learners.  We tentatively started speaking Spanish, trying to calm our egos by determining our own level of speaking ability compared to our companions (jockeying for position, so to speak).  And I noticed that each of us was making disclaimers as to our Spanish speaking ability, just in case anyone would expect us to be a fluent speaker. 

One person said she had lived in Central America, but that since returning to the United States, had not had the opportunity to speak very much Spanish.  Another person said she was of Hispanic background, but that her family always spoke English, so she didn't feel that she was a strong Spanish speaker.  Another person said he had been in the process of studying Spanish for ten years.  And as for me (ego taking strong hold here), I neglected to tell the group that I had done a Master's degree in Spanish many years ago and had taught Spanish for quite a few years, but that the most recent language I had taught was Portuguese.  I suppose I should have revealed my language background so they would be more understanding when I let Portuguese influence my Spanish (which happens more often than not).  Every group member was wrestling with ego  when confronted with the necessity of speaking a second language.

I worried about my accent in Spanish.  I worried because I can't produce a good Spanish rolled 'r'.

I worried about words I didn't know the Spanish equivalents of, like shirt collar and nanny.  I worried because it appeared that my advanced companions were not understanding all of what I said.  I worried when I caught myself making an error.  My ego was taking a beating, and I'll bet my ego was not the only one in the room suffering.

For our next class, I may take along a copy of this quote to help in taming my ego.

They say "to learn another language is to have another soul."  Maybe my second, Spanish speaking soul, will be more interested in communicating with others than in feeding an insatiable ego!

  

Speak more slowly! I can't understand you!

Understanding and speaking a second language.  The same skill or two different skills?

For anyone who has tried to acquire a second language, the answer is obvious.  Understanding and speaking are separate skills that seem to be two sides of the same coin, but unfortunately they do not always develop simultaneously in our brains.

The ability to understand spoken language has in the past been labeled a passive skill.  Nothing could be further from the truth! When someone speaks to me in a foreign language, I can feel my brain working overtime, trying to make meaning.

Some people I know will answer the question, "Do you speak Spanish?" by apologizing and saying, "No, but I can understand it."  No apology needed here!  Being able to understand another language is a great accomplishment.  

On the other hand, few people will admit, "I speak Spanish, but I have trouble understanding it." Have you ever been hesitant to try out your new foreign language for fear that someone might respond with a bunch of sounds that your brain can't match to words?  I have!

How does it happen that a person can produce language but not understand it? In a new language, I can acquire vocabulary, sounds, and structures so that I can put together sentences. But I still may not have the ability to understand spoken language.

The crucial difference is perhaps this:  When I speak,  I am in control of what I say.  If I don't know the word for bananas, I can avoid talking about bananas. If I have trouble producing a certain sound, I can avoid words with that sound.  (Note:  You will never hear me say ferrocarril in Spanish. Those two trilled r sounds would be the death of me.)   And if I feel insecure about a certain structure (for example, the rather exotic Portuguese future subjunctive), I can reword my sentence to avoid the use of the difficult structure.  

But when someone speaks to you in a foreign language, who knows what they are going to say- possibly words you have never heard of, sounds you have never produced, and complex structures that you may never conquer? Ah, if only those fluent speakers would agree to speak to you using just language that you have already mastered!

Lots of language being produced here!

  

At one point in second language instruction, teachers were encouraged to provide students with a "Silent Period." This was a period of time in beginning language classes when students would only hear the new language but were not required to speak it.  The idea was that infants have an extended silent period (approximately from birth to 18 months of age) when they can take in language and let their brains make sense of it before they begin to produce language.

This probably isn't going to happen!

What a luxury a Silent Period would be for an adult language learner!  Wouldn't it be relaxing  to listen and understand your new language without feeling the urgency to speak?  But in our speeded-up world, few people have time for a Silent Period.  Advertisements for language learning software that promise "Learn Spanish in 15 days"  give us the impression that we should learn a new language in the same time it might take me to master a new app on my phone.

Successful language acquisition is like the turtle in the race with the hare.  Slow and steady wins the race.  But what a great prize awaits us!

Why do we hate to make language mistakes?

"Acquire language like you were a child!"  "Don't be afraid of making errors!" "Talk to as many native speakers as you can!"  There is certainly no scarcity of advice nowadays when it comes to how to acquire other languages. But how easy is it to follow that advice?  Why is it so hard to allow yourself  to make errors when learning a foreign language?

Let me say up front that I understand that mistakes are a natural part of the language learning process.  I accepted communication as the main goal of foreign language learning many years ago.

Communication is the goal!

I am familiar with the concept of  interlanguage, a term that linguists use to describe a version of the new language that a learner speaks on the road to becoming a native-like speaker. And every learner's interlanguage is rife with errors. Errors are a good thing, I keep telling myself.

Now let's go from theory to practice.  Making errors in another language (surprisingly more than making errors in my native language, English) embarrasses me to death.  And I have met very few adult learners of other languages who feel differently.  Both my husband Wayne and I have been faithfully completing Duolingo language lessons each day.

Duolingo

Both of us murmur an interjection (or in Wayne's case, more probably an expletive) when the program informs us that we have erred. And to add insult to injury, the program takes away a heart (serious business!), accompanied with a few bars of lugubrious music.

Don't lose all three hearts, or you are dead!

After every conversation I have in a foreign language, even in e-mails or text messages, my mind goes over and over the message long after it is gone, checking to see what errors I may have made.  And if I discover one, I blush.

I try to remember that making errors is a positive step in language learning when I am helping Wayne with his Spanish study.  I don't correct him when we are conversing.  I subscribe to the doctrine that correcting speakers when they are trying to formulate language in their minds is not only counterproductive, but possibly discouraging to them. But he persists in asking me, "Was that right?"  If I respond with, "Do you feel like you communicated what you wanted to say?", he says, "Yes, and was it right?"  

Why do language mistakes loom larger than other mistakes we make in life, like taking a wrong turn, calling a wrong number, or forgetting to lock the back door?  Maybe it's because language is something very personal to humans.  We create it from our minds.  And we hate doing it wrong!

 

I speak Spanish. Why can't I understand Brazilian Portuguese?

As Brazil prepares to host the FIFA 2014 World Cup, and the 2016 Olympic Games appear on the horizon, I'm looking forward to hearing quite a bit more of the Portuguese language.  It may be a matter of catching just a sentence or two on TV before the English translator breaks in, but it is enough to remind me what a melodious, expressive language Brazilian Portuguese (BP) is.

Just to set the record straight, there are various dialects of Portuguese in the world.  Because Brazil is the fifth largest country in the world, both in area and population, Brazilian Portuguese (BP) is the dialect most frequently heard.

I have Spanish-speaking friends who tell me that they have tried, but just can't understand Brazilian Portuguese.  An interesting fact is that if you speak Portuguese, you can probably understand quite a bit of Spanish. However, if your language is Spanish, you may have some difficulty understanding spoken Portuguese at first. Reading is much easier in the opposite language.  So it must be the sound system that is interfering with listening comprehension.

Without going into a lot of phonetics and phonology (after all, the first match of the World Cup is already upon us), perhaps just a quick comparison between several sounds of the two languages will be of some help in understanding BP.

Spanish is considered a phonetic language; that is, for the most part, sounds have only one pronunciation. A Spanish 't' is almost always a Spanish 't'.    In BP, however, the 't' changes pronunciation rather dramatically in certain cases.  Take, for example, the word for 'mind', as in "I'm losing my mind."  The translation, mente, is written the same in both languages.

But oh the sound! Let's do this in two stages.  First take a look at the word 'Stop' in both Spanish and Portuguese.  

In BP, an 'e' at the end of words is pronounced higher in the mouth than in Spanish, like the vowel sound in the English word 'cheese'. Say pare  in Spanish and then pronounce it in BP ("paree").   

This different vowel sound at the end of words in BP can have important consequences.  A Brazilian Portuguese 't' takes on a new pronunciation when it comes before the 'cheese' vowel. The 't' changes into a sound like the 'ch' sound of English 'church'.   Spanish says mente as it is written, but BP says something like 'menchee' (like the frozen yogurt chain).  Try the same word out loud in the two languages.  Different, huh?

Now that you have been alerted to possible changes in the BP 't' sound, you are ready to tackle the 'd' sound. When a 'd' appears at the end of a word before that same vowel in English 'cheese', instead of making a regular old 'd' sound, BP makes a sound like the 'j' sound English 'judge'.  Try saying in Spanish the word for 'late' or 'afternoon', tarde.  Now say that same word in BP, something like 'tarjee'.  Got the idea?

I can't quite give up my former role as a language teacher, so how about a little practice test?  Say each of these words, first in Spanish, then in Portuguese.

abundante
lente
presente
potente
abunde
acomode

Did you make the 't's' and 'd's' with a different sound in BP because you pronounced the ending 'e' as 'ee'?

If so, you have made the first big leap into the mysteries of BP pronunciation.  More next week!

Oh no! I'm losing it!

I suppose I could say I am losing many things these days (except those extra pounds off my body), but what has me most concerned recently is the loss of my foreign language abilities. Linguists have a fancy term for that phenomenon- second language attrition, and I am a victim. Here is my sad story.

.

Five minutes!  I spent a lot more time than that!

When I was in college, my best foreign language was Spanish.  I have heard Spanish all of my life and studied it from sixth grade through a Master's degree. That extended period of study equated to countless hours spent listening, speaking, reading, writing, and yes, studying grammar in Spanish.

After graduation, I taught Spanish in public school for quite a few years. Instead of improving my own Spanish language abilities, I concentrated on how to teach others a foreign language (not an easy task!). My Spanish took on the typical basic characteristics of Spanish I and Spanish II courses.

I'm not sure all of my students were this eager to learn!

Recently, I began an informal project with a friend to reread the Spanish classic, El Ingenioso Caballero, Don Quijote de la Mancha. I pulled my old college copy off the shelf and was delighted to discover that my much younger self had made very helpful summary notes at the bottom of each page. Not only were the notes a guide to reading comprehension, but they were written in fluent Spanish.  I could hardly believe that it had been me writing those notes like a native speaker of Spanish. Where had that fluent Spanish gone?

I can still read  Spanish fairly well, although it takes more concentration than reading in English. I need absolute peace and quiet in the house!  But my Spanish oral fluency is not what I would like it to be. My husband inquired as to whether reading a 17th century novel was going to increase my ability to speak Spanish on our trip to Spain this fall.  I told him that at the very least, I am starting to hear Spanish swirling around in my mind again.  I may surprise a few Spaniards by speaking to them in the style of  Don Quijote!

Don Quijote and Sancho Panza

Then there is the matter of Brazilian Portuguese.  Intellectual curiosity caused me  to sign up for a Portuguese course at the local university one semester many years ago.  It was love at first sight for me.  I signed up in subsequent semesters for all available Portuguese courses and even spent a summer in Brazil on an NEH grant.  We were given an exit exam at the end of the course. I received a 10, the highest possible score! My Portuguese abilities were in great shape!

A Brazilian praça

But when I returned to my Spanish teaching job in the fall, I had quite a shock. I would try to speak Spanish and out would come Portuguese.  About the time I was getting the two languages straight in my mind, I began an administrative job in the school district which required different skills than pure language skills. Both my Spanish and Portuguese went into a slow decline over almost two decades.

My third career was teaching Portuguese courses at the university level.

I quickly immersed myself in Portuguese language and Brazilian culture and survived the first semester.  As time went on, Portuguese completely took over Spanish in my mind.  Students would speak to me in Spanish, and I would understand them with no problem, but if I tried to answer back in Spanish, it was all Portuguese.  Very embarrassing! Now it has been almost a year since I have spoken Portuguese on a regular basis, and I am beginning to feel very sad that I no longer hear that beautiful language in my head.

So I definitely have a bad case of second language attrition.  I'm going to work on remedies this week and let you know what I have self-prescribed in next week's blog.  If you have suffered from the same disease and have found a cure, please let me know!
 

Can Introverts be Good Language Acquirers?

Today I participated in a webinar with the somewhat intimidating title of "The Radically Common Phenomena Called Language:  How the human mind creates and acquires it,"* featuring the well-known applied linguist John De Mado.  It was great.  I could have chosen to sit in front of the computer in my robe and slippers sipping a fresh cup of coffee, but I wasn't completely sure that I wouldn't be required to use my webcam to participate.  (Has anyone figured out how to look halfway decent using a webcam?) But the webinar was all audio, so I was pleased to be able to relax and learn more about language acquisition.

As John De Mado discussed three main personality traits that are helpful for acquiring language, I started to squirm in my chair.  The first trait is Risk-Taking.  To acquire language, you have to talk to people - lots of people, the more the better.  He pointed out that it takes a lot of nerve for a non-native speaker to strike up a conversation with a native speaker, who is by definition much more in control of vocabulary, grammar and accent.

The second trait is Vulnerability.  A language acquirer must be able to be vulnerable enough to make errors - lots of errors, because there is no way to acquire language without them. If we clam up at the first wrong word choice, incorrect verb ending, or botched pronunciation, all is lost. We will not make progress toward our goal of acquiring a second language.

So why was I squirming in my chair?  It is because I am an introvert, and introverts have lots of trouble complying with the first two traits! Now in case you belong to the two-thirds of Americans who are classified as extroverts, you may not understand an introvert's world. The best way I can describe it is that if you and I were Energizer Bunnies, after a long conversation the extroverted bunny would feel charged up and ready to go.  The introverted bunny would be very, very tired and need some alone time to recharge.  So introverts are going to be especially reluctant to take a risk and strike up a conversation, especially in another language.

Now that you may be viewing the world through the eyes of an introvert, you can imagine how making an error in another language is not what an introvert wants to do. Communication in itself makes an introvert vulnerable to the world.  And not being understood because you have made a mistake!  Horrors!  Where's my shell to hide under?

Thank goodness the third personality trait mentioned by John De Mado is Intuition.  In order to understand what other people are saying to us (even in our native language), we have to filter what they say through our own knowledge and perceptions. People are often communicating much more than their actual words would indicate.  I can do this!  I am a good listener!  At last, something an introvert can do well!

So, can introverts be good language acquirers?  Yes, we can choose to be with a little pre-planning. My goals are: force myself to talk to more people in more different circumstances but allow myself a nice, long recharging time afterward;  if I am obsessing about the errors I made, write them down and think what I would have said differently; rejoice in the fact that I can pick up communication clues because I prefer to listen rather than talk.

Hmm.  Perhaps I'll sign up for an online language program where I would have conversations with a real native speaker.  At least I could log off quickly if things get uncomfortable!

*Webinar courtesy of Association of College and Research Libraries and Mángo Languages.

      

"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!