I, like many of people, have been taking Spanish classes since I was in middle school. But you probably wouldn't guess that by my grade in Spanish 202. This romance language and I have had a long and interesting relationship, starting even before my 7th grade self stepped foot in Señora Rodriguez's Intro to Spanish class.
It all started in third grade, when by chance the Girl Scouts of America first introduced me to Spanish. I was a very enthusiastic girl scout, so when troop 3334 was assigned a South American country that I had never heard of before for the "Around the World Day" celebration, I immersed myself in what a third grader would see as very in-depth research. If I remember correctly, my troop leader drew Venezuela out of a hat or something, so our assignment had been totally random. But from that point on, Spanish was something that I found vastly interesting. I found out through National Geographic Magazines and websites that Venezuela was a land of magic and wonderment.
Of course, as a Girl Scout, my assignments were to find out what sort of foods people ate there, what kinds of dances they did, and what sorts of clothes they wore. I didn't learn about Hugo Chavez or Venezuelan Oil or the general problems of the country until I was quite a bit older. As an eight-year-old, I only saw the wonderful things the country had to offer, like the tracts of rainforest filled with wild jaguars and colorful macaws and the world's largest waterfall. I even met someone from this beautiful place; my cousin's friend from work let my troop borrow all sorts of wonderful things, from spices and cookbooks to maracas. I remember looking at all of the National Geographic pictures and eating the plantains my mom made for our festival and wondering why the nice young woman ever left her country. It was so cool!
A lot of kids my age were begging their parents to take them to Disney world; I told mine that I wanted to go to Venezuela. This has been a dream of mine ever since. So throughout elementary school, I checked out several Spanish-English picture dictionaries from the library. I even learned how to call people fat pigs in Spanish. In addition to the general "hola," "gracias," and "de nada," I knew how to say several nouns in Spanish by the time I was in middle school.
In my first Spanish classes, I learned to tell people "Me llamo Jamie," and ask them "Como estas?" I could also express my like and dislike for things. "Me gusta nadar y no me gusta hacer tarea," is something I would have probably written at the time. I went home every day and told my mom about Spanish. I even eavesdropped on groups of Spanish-speakers in public places to try and understand their conversations.
But despite my enthusiasm, Spanish was never my strongest subject. I was usually an A student and I was getting low Cs on most of my tests. I was used to everything coming easy to me, and I didn't like that I had to work hard in this class to get a C. The pattern continued in High School, so after Spanish Three, I gave up on my pursuit of the Spanish Language to a certain extent. I was on the school's debate team by then anyway, and having become politically aware, I knew that there was no trip to Venezuela in my future. I still thumbed through a Spanish copy of Don Quixote that I bought as a yard sale and watched Spanish Soap Operas when I was home alone. I didn't want to lose what little Spanish I did know.
I guess this paid off, because I tested into Spanish 202 after over three years of not taking Spanish, and coming from a high school where the teachers didn't even usually speak Spanish during class. My reading and listening comprehension are actually pretty good. My speaking, however, is laughable and the differences in tenses are a complete mystery to me.
As I struggle through college Spanish, I try to remember the little girl who dreamed of going into the rainforests of South America and meeting all of the interesting people there. I know I have to pass this class to get my diploma; that's the main reason I'm there, but it's also something I always wanted to learn. I owe it to myself to keep trying to learn Spanish; even if I don't do fantastically in the class, I think my third grade self would find the amount of Spanish I have learned to be very impressive. Who knows, maybe someday I will get to go to Venezuela; the optimistic little kid I used to be tells me that the problems between our countries can't last for my entire life. And when I get there, I at least need to be able to ask how to get to the world's largest waterfall.
