Michelle McGuire
CTSE 520
Assignment #2
June 21, 2004
As a community and society, I truly believe that we all take language for granted.
I have been sitting in my apartment for the last 3 hours trying to think about something
valid, if not scholarly, about the way that I came to learn the English language and I have
nothing. There are no cute anecdotes, nothing to reminisce about, and if I dig any deeper,
I think that I will induce a coma. This is not to say that I have not jogged a few vital
language related memories, and the most ironic part about this is that most all of them
involve not learning a language. As odd as this might seem, I know that there are many
others looming about such as myself. We are victims of our parents burning desire for
assimilation to fit into all aspects of the traditional “American Life.”
My mother met my father during the Vietnam War, similar to Miss Saigon, but
without the tragic ending. She came to the United States to marry him, and after having a
combination of ten brothers and sisters in her own family, she decided that one child was
enough. All throughout her pregnancy she strictly followed almost all of the traditions
and customs associated with Vietnamese culture, yet after I was born, she actively sought
to talk to me and teach me to speak in English. The only time in my recollection that I
can ever remember her teaching me Vietnamese was when I was about 5 years old and I
learned how to count from one to ten. This soon became an affront or a decoy for
whenever people would ask me if I knew the language. I would smile cute as a button,
not knowing the horrible disservice being done to me, and would reply, “No, but I can
count to ten, see… (Insert Vietnamese numbers here).”
Not only were numbers my forte, please and thank you were right up my ally as
well. At least she taught me how to have some manners. This brings to me to my
ultimate linguistic undoing; the day I tried to use limited Vietnamese in public. It was a
sunny morning, and our Vietnamese neighbor had given me a ride to school early in the
morning so I could attend my G.A.T.E. class (it always puzzled me why gifted children
were rewarded with more class). When I got out of the truck and before shutting the door
I turned around and said, “Cam on (thank you).” He smiled was so wide that I could see
all of his crooked teeth and the bellowing laughter still haunts me today. I felt ashamed
that my language skills were laughable and couldn’t believe that he didn’t even say,
“You’re welcome.” The damage was done, and from that day on, I never asked my mom
to teach me the language again, although even if I did, chances were slim that she would
actually follow through.
I only started to realize my misfortune while I was in high school. I started to
meet new friends who were bilingual and the funny thing about that was that they all
spoke the same language: Spanish. I always wondered what the difference was between
my mom and theirs in that they got to learn a foreign language and I did not. I found my
chance for redemption and it all started in the 9th grade with Spanish I. This was
followed by Spanish II, III, and AP Spanish. I kept taking Spanish classes in college, and
planned to go abroad to Spain, yet I backed out and went to London instead. All my
dreams of becoming bilingual checked themselves at the Tom Bradley Terminal at LAX
because I self-sabotaged my language proficiency. In a way I was still afraid of being
laughed at like when I was younger.
I have yet again come to a language crossroads. To BCLAD, or not to BCLAD:
that is the question. For the past five years I have worked in a restaurant where everyone
speaks Spanish: chefs, cooks, managers, busboys, guests, and many servers. I go there
day in and day out and listen to everyone speak and have the ability to comprehend 7080% of their conversations. I now have the opportunity, in a safe and nurturing academic
environment, to cross out of my comfort zone and into the arena of second language
proficiency. I know that I do not have much time to make a decision, so I must work on
exorcising my language demons so that I can make a fresh start and in a twisted way,
reclaim my birthright of language duality.