Adventures in teaching

Kids say the darnedest things, and even more so in a foreign language. Sometimes my students' questions and/or comments catch me entirely by surprise, and I have to maintain composure while I think about how I'm going to address *insert taboo topic here*. Every day is an adventure. As an auxiliar, my job is as much to teach the English language as it is to teach the way we use the language (and the way we don't use the language.)

In a recent class with 14-year-olds, we were reading a news story about Samoa Air's charge-by-passenger-weight ticket policy. We were debating about fairness, discrimination, obesity, etc. My students kept using the term "fat people," i.e. "fat people have to pay more" or "it's unfair to fat people." I decided to give them a lesson about the intricacies and subtleties of  English (I wrote before about the loose Spanish PC code here): We don't say "fat people," I explained. Instead, we say "overweight," "large," "obese" or "big." This small lesson somehow morphed into a much longer, much more uncomfortable discussion. One student asked what we call "los negros" (black people). I explained that we typically say "African-Americans," which then prompted the "so why do you say 'white' but not 'black'?" follow-up. Good question. I had no sufficient answer. Then a girl asked when we say "n*****." She was 100 percent sincere. I was admittedly shocked and had to think for a bit about how to explain such a delicate word without actually repeating the word. I told them that it's incredibly derogatory and offensive, and I advised them to never, ever, ever use it. "But why do we hear it in music and movies so much then?" Another good question. Another unsatisfactory answer from me.

After all of that, just when I thought I was off the hook, a girl mentioned African immigrants selling sunglasses, watches, ice cream and other goodies on the beach. A student raised his hand and, again 100 percent sincerely, asked if I could explain the difference in pronunciation and meaning between "bitch" and "beach" because he couldn't hear any distinction between the two (I wrote a bit about that here). So, I got the go-ahead from the teacher, and I explained it. What. A. Day.

Here's to students keeping teachers on their toes.

Un saludo,
Teresa

"This week in errors," Issue 3

This feature publicizes the week's most epic/memorable/blush-inducing language fails. This week's issue focuses on students unknowingly saying/writing wildly inappropriate things.

1). In a class, my students were playing "20 questions" about celebrities to practice asking questions about and describing personal characteristics. Nicki Minaj came up (if you don't know who she is, look here), and one of my students asked the student describing her if the person being described "had a big ass." I couldn't believe what I heard, so I asked him to repeat because I was sure I'd heard it wrong (like the time a student said he made a mistake on a PowerPoint because he "was wrong" and I thought he said he "was drunk"). He repeated, and sure enough, he confidently repeated "ass." He didn't realize that was a bad word because he'd learned it as an equivalent to "culo," which technically it is, but it's stronger in English.

2). This comes from one of my roommate's students. Look at #3.

The girl meant to say "hold me" or "pick me up" ("cogerme" in Spain Spanish), but in parts of Latin America, "coger" means "f***," so when she searched "coger" in a translator, that's what she got.

Un saludo,
Teresa

"This week in errors," Issue 2

This feature publicizes the week's most epic/memorable/blush-inducing language fails.

1.) ...trying to tell my mentor that "tienes que bailar esta noche, sabes." ("You have to dance tonight, you know.") When I speak quickly, proper pronunciation goes by the wayside and things can get a bit hairy. In this situation, "bailar" became "balar," which means "baaaa," like a sheep.

2.) ...while working on vocabulary with my fifth-graders, we came across the word "beach," which induced back-of-the-classroom laughter. English-language learners are infamous for confusing the pronunciations of "beach" and "b****," so I figured the juvenile chuckling was related to that. I launched into a spiel about how "beach" is not a "palabrota" (bad word) and how the pronunciation of minimal pairs completely changes the meaning of the words. The teacher and the students were noticeably confused by my sudden soapbox lesson and what had initiated it. Turns out a kid in the back had accidentally written "beach" on his name tag instead of his name. There was no "palabrota" confusion. Awkward.
 

3). ...I'd nominate this label for the worst Spanish-English translation of the year. It's certainly the worst I've seen in person. This doozy of a disaster comes from the label of a sauce my roommate brought home from the Canary Islands.

I'm no professional, but the translation should be something like, "'Mojo rojo' is a red sauce typical of the Canary Islands that's used with meats, fish, vegetables, roasted cornmeal, baked potatoes, etc."

Here's to being entertained by shaming myself and others.

Un saludo,
Teresa

Politically (in)correct

We Americans are sensitive creatures. We're a culture that analyzes, over-analyzes, misinterprets and twists words. An innocent comment becomes a vicious, racist, elitist, insensitive, bigoted or inarticulate attack in one swift cycle through the media wringer. 

Source

We have an intricate and delicate PC code that, when violated, gets you 1). fired 2). blacklisted or 3). praised. In America, “rich people” are “people of means,” “illegal immigrants” are “undocumented,” “trailer parks” are “mobile home developments,” “crazed extremists” are “activists”, and “Easter eggs” are “spring spheres” (that really happened).

In America, we’re weird about ethnic terms or nationalities, so we generalize to the point of ridiculousness. In our attempt to be politically correct, I’d argue we become incorrect, or at least unclear. Instead of referring to Spanish-speaking people by their precise nationality, we call them all Latinos. Yes, let’s just lump them together because they’re all the same, right? What's the difference between a Mexican and a Costa Rican anyway? (*sarcasm*)

I don’t mention all of this to sound like I hate being sensitive to discriminatory speech. Rather, my point is this: While we try to find an acceptable way to say exactly what we don’t mean in English, Spanish-speakers don't beat around the bush so much. 

In Spanish, it’s not uncommon to refer to an Asian as a “chino,” to your somewhat chubby girlfriend as “gorda” (fat), to an obvious foreigner as a “guiri” or "gringo" and to a man as a “maricón” (a derogatory term for a homosexual).

It’s dangerous to translate these words literally into English because the words don’t carry the same weight in Spanish. It's not that Spanish-speakers are bigots who litter their colloquial speech with epithets, although when thought of in terms of English it may seem that way. 

It's just that language is perceived differently. They don't give words so much gravity, and therefore they're not as upset when potentially offensive words are used. Heck, insults in English ("gorda" (fatty), for example) can be terms of endearment in Spanish (my Spanish roommate tried "gorda" once with his girlfriend, who is my English roommate, and it didn't go over so well).

An anectdotal example of directness in Spanish: A Spanish-language podcast I listen to is hosted by a couple – the guy is British (but speaks in Spanish), and the woman is Spanish. On one episode they were discussing how Madrid has changed since Ben moved there nine years ago. As he describes the evolution, he is tiptoeing around saying there are more people of different races, especially black, in the city than when he arrived. Marina, the Spanish wife, tells Ben in Spanish, “Ben, they’re black. Just like you’re white. It’s OK to say that.”

But perhaps the most convincing anecdotal evidence is this, which admittedly made me cringe a bit:

This is a real page from a Spanish publication (thanks to my friend Sam over at Segun Samantha for showing it to me). It says, "Why don't Chinese people party?" ("hacen botellon" in Spain actually means drinking outside.) It continues, "They don't like to party, they work 12 hours a day, they start businesses with wedding money and they don't want their kids to be like Spaniards because they think we're lazy."

Wow. Sometimes straight-forward Spanish is jarring, like the example above. Sometimes it's comical. Sometimes it's uncomfortable. Sometimes it's mildly disconcerting.

But perhaps we uptight folk should recognize it as at least a little bit refreshing, eh?

Un saludo, 

Teresa