espanol y mi

When I was young, I planned on taking French in high school. This was mostly because my oldest sister took French and I wanted to be just like her. So, when I started high school, I signed up for French. But it didn't work in my schedule.

So I signed up for Spanish.

I don't remember learning much besides the alphabet and a few simple words and phrases. But I loved the language.

Over the next few years several of my friends served Spanish-speaking missions and I became obsessed with the language and the culture.

I vowed to marry a Spanish-speaker.

My second semester of college I took beginning Spanish. I was so into that class. My teacher told me at the end that I was one of the best speakers in the class.

I met Dave at the beginning of the next fall semester. The first thing that caught my attention was that he spoke Spanish.

(I'm not kidding. I walked into our apartment after running one day, and he was there talking to my roommates and I said, "I don't know you." He said, "I'm Dave" and then I don't remember much else until he said he served his mission in Santiago, Chile. "Oh, so you speak Spanish," I said. And I remembered that about him, even though we didn't start dating until 4 months later.)

Anyway, when I was pregnant with Ana, I took a class called "Language and Literacy." One day we talked about bilingual children and I came bopping home from school one day and told Dave all about it.

"You have to teach our children Spanish. From the very first day, you've gotta talk to them in Spanish." I said. Now, we'd had this discussion before. I knew that our children had to learn Spanish and I was just trying to convince Dave to go along with it.

"Erin," he said in his very calm, non-confrontational way, "if you want me to teach Spanish to our kids, you have to learn it, too. I'm don't want to talk to our kids all day if you don't know what I'm saying."

Well, needless to say, our kids don't speak Spanish. (Well, Ana does say "Abre" when she wants me to open the door, but she learned that from Dora, not me or Dave...)

On and off since my last Spanish class, I've studied my Spanish. I can read quite a bit, and understand a lot of what I read. I can speak it all right, but I make a lot of mistakes and it takes me FOREVER to form even a sentence. I can't really understand others when they talk.

Finally the other night I started a Spanish class.

Dave is the teacher.

I am the only student.

I am so excited! Dave checked out a book from the library to use as a sort of text. He has lesson plans and quizzes prepared. I actually am feeling motivated to study because I am accountable for what I learn. Its cool.

Me gusta el espanol.