Poco a Poco
Learning a new language while my daughter learns to speak.
I've wanted to learn Spanish for about fifteen years. The summer after I graduated college, I enrolled in a Spanish level one class at a community college in Boulder, Colorado. I remember sitting at a cramped desk and filling out a lot of worksheets and not learning very much. As I started making friends in the city, I soon preferred to be outside riding my bike or drinking wine on my porch, so I quickly stopped going to class and abandoned the idea of learning Spanish.
I know Spanish is a critical language to speak in the United States, but what I couldn’t have anticipated is how Spanish would become essential to my everyday life: I fell in love with a Peruvian man, whom I married four years ago. My husband Bruno’s English is impeccable, and I am often asking him the definition of English words because he has a larger vocabulary than I do. His fluency, and the fact that we live in the U.S., has meant that our relationship has existed only in English.
After meeting Bruno, I kept saying that I wanted to learn Spanish, but took little action towards it. I was inspired by a workshop I took on language justice and came home and apologized to Bruno for my lack of effort in speaking his native language. I could do it! It was part of my political values to learn Spanish! But still, I did not put any time into learning Spanish.
I was too busy. It was too disjointing to my days and weeks to learn a new language. It required a type of brain that I just did not have. Then I had a baby and my brain turned to mush, and my lack of time became even more of a reason not to try.
I saw Bruno’s disappointment grow, but I felt a total block around doing it. I wanted my child to be bilingual and feel connected to her father’s native tongue and culture, but I didn’t see a way that I could be part of making that happen.
With our first trip to Peru around the corner (we leave this week!) I knew I had to work through whatever was stopping me from just calling the Spanish tutor I know and love. I processed my resistance with friends and eventually in therapy—it turns out my avoidance runs deep.
I’ve avoided learning Spanish because I really hate to be bad at things. I have quite a bit of beginner's luck with games and I feel comfortable picking up new sports, or trying out a new dance class. I don’t get scared of messing up the moves, or losing in a new game. But taking away my ability to speak fluently is terrifying. When I try to communicate without having many words to do so, I almost immediately get sweaty and my face turns red. Sometimes I feel like I’m having an out of body experience. I can be saying a familiar word, and then when I try to grasp the next word that I may or may not know, I go blank. I find it incredibly embarrassing, even when I am in the safe space of working with my tutor one-on-one.
It’s hard for me to learn a new language because I’ve made my learning a performance, and I can’t nail my lines on the first try. I am uncomfortable being seen in my un-knowingness. I love talking to people almost more than anything else in the world. With languages other than English I am often rendered mute, not just by my lack of knowledge, but because my perfectionism stops me from saying anything at all.
Meanwhile, my daughter is learning how to talk. She has a limited number of words: ball, bath, chair, woof woof, agua, más. She understands much more than she can say, which is the same for me in Spanish. But unlike me, she does not seem to beat up on herself when she tries a word or communicates in a way that someone else does not understand. She hears a word that she thinks she can mimic and she tries it out. Rough becomes uf. Bear becomes air. Bird becomes bir. We clap for her each time she attempts a word and slowly we begin to understand.
As my Spanish teacher says, poco a poco. It is humbling to struggle to communicate my most basic needs and thoughts. Yet, I’m finding, sometimes it helps me to get to the heart of things. I lose the flowery language that I can hide behind. I am laid bare, vulnerable in my newness. But like my child, I am learning to celebrate when I complete a sentence, or learn a new tense. I practice the same words and phrases over and over. I am getting more comfortable with getting things wrong, and allowing myself to be right where I am: new, fumbling, and trying. Learning out loud.
Dare I say, I’m starting to have a little fun. Estoy aprendiendo.
🌳News from Stoneroot 🌳
🌀We are gearing up for our first Work Party at Stoneroot June 30th-July 13th! Thanks to everyone who has shared their interest in joining us and have asked for more details.
We invite folks to come anytime in the two-week block to lend a hand in our ongoing projects. This year, we will be focusing on demoing a large chicken coop and shed, trail maintenance and clearing downed trees and limbs, and working in the garden weeding and disassembling unused garden beds. We will provide the food for all lunches and some dinners and rotate cooking responsibilities. Come join us for some fun, hard work in the woods! We will surely enjoy daily dips in our spring-fed pond and will create space for down time and exploration.
If you are interested in joining us, please fill out this form so we can begin planning the weeks in more detail. Please reach out with any questions!
🌀Our books are open for DIY residencies on an ongoing basis. Residencies are 1-2 weeks and open to artists, organizers, and healers who are looking for space to create or rest in nature. Check out our website to get a sense of the space and to book your stay!
🌀Last week, we welcomed three amazing residents from Windcall Institute. This incredible 35-year-old organization provides respite retreats to organizers who are in need of rest and restoration. We are honored to be their newest site partner and to see the residents rest into the summer season on the land.
As always, I'd love to hear from you! What are you learning or exploring this season?
Sending much love and care,
Willa
