Buonpormeriggio!
Last night I found out what it is like to go back to square one. I can't believe that I actually signed up for Italian lessons at an evening college. What was I thinking? Obviously the answer is, that I wasn't thinking, not at all. I was keen to go and looking forward to acquiring some vocabulary before my next OS trip later this year. The teacher was pleasant, the room was chilly (air conditioner works too efficiently,) but the pace of learning was beyond my limited skills. I found myself drifting and reflecting on the difficulties faced by some of the people with whom I work every day. I realised how uncomfortable and deflated they must feel when presented with material that challenges them to the point of stress. I noted that I had begun to withdraw from the lesson some time past the first hour. I slowly sank into the rock hard, plastic chair, hand on the side of my head and was even starting to lean to one side of the table. Never had I wanted to fle
e a learning opportunity before in my life like I did last night. Alphabet treated and seemingly understood by all present except for me. Vowels, consonants and the mention of conjugating verbs. I shudder to contemplate next week's lesson. More than one expects to hear in Italian 101. Will I go back next week? To go or not to go? That is the question. More importantly how will I respond when I note the changing body language of those with whom I work on a daily basis?
Last night I found out what it is like to go back to square one. I can't believe that I actually signed up for Italian lessons at an evening college. What was I thinking? Obviously the answer is, that I wasn't thinking, not at all. I was keen to go and looking forward to acquiring some vocabulary before my next OS trip later this year. The teacher was pleasant, the room was chilly (air conditioner works too efficiently,) but the pace of learning was beyond my limited skills. I found myself drifting and reflecting on the difficulties faced by some of the people with whom I work every day. I realised how uncomfortable and deflated they must feel when presented with material that challenges them to the point of stress. I noted that I had begun to withdraw from the lesson some time past the first hour. I slowly sank into the rock hard, plastic chair, hand on the side of my head and was even starting to lean to one side of the table. Never had I wanted to fle
e a learning opportunity before in my life like I did last night. Alphabet treated and seemingly understood by all present except for me. Vowels, consonants and the mention of conjugating verbs. I shudder to contemplate next week's lesson. More than one expects to hear in Italian 101. Will I go back next week? To go or not to go? That is the question. More importantly how will I respond when I note the changing body language of those with whom I work on a daily basis?
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