Read, Listen, Speak
How we learn languages, plus a tale of two teens
Cari amici,
I was talking to a friend the other night, and much of our conversation was about languages. My friend is learning English, and we like to compare notes about the differences between Italian and English and what’s challenging to us as learners. She works as un insegnante di sostegno (a classroom teacher who gives learning assistance to students who have disabilities), and she told me a very interesting story about two of her students. It raises some questions about how and why we learn a language—and whether, at times, we’re our own worst enemies.
The two students are teenage girls, refugees. (Specifics withheld to protect their privacy.) They’ve been here in Italy for roughly the same amount of time, and they live with their families, which means their exposure to the Italian language and culture and their degree of family support are somewhat similar. One girl, of normal intelligence and with normal speech patterns, is timid and doesn’t engage much with her classmates. Let’s call her Anna. The other girl, who has some cognitive impairment, is extroverted but communicates (in Italian) via only single words or short phrases. Let’s call her Maria.
One of these two girls has a sophisticated understanding of Italian after only months in this country, and one can barely get by. Which is which? Yes, you know the answer.
With Maria, my friend (the teacher) can speak normally, making no concessions for a neophyte learner of Italian, and Maria responds appropriately. Anna, on the other hand, doesn’t understand much Italian at all and my friend has to use simpler language with her. Despite her normal intelligence, Anna is learning Italian more slowly and less comprehensively than a classmate with a cognitive deficit.
The comprehension/speech dichotomy
If you find this disparity in language-learning ability fascinating, I’m right there with you. But is it surprising? Not so much. The first thing I thought of when I heard about Anna and Maria was a video I’d watched recently that addresses a frequently heard lament: “I can understand Italian [or whatever language], but I can’t speak.” Turns out it’s a normal occurrence, and fairly universal. Small consolation, I know.
The thing is, understanding a language and speaking it involve two very different mental functions. Comprehension requires only passive learning, such as watching videos and films, using apps, and listening to podcasts and lectures. Those activities build comprehension but not the ability to speak. To learn to speak we have to, well, speak. A lot.
This takes effort. We need to find someone to talk to—a teacher, a friend, a language exchange participant—and that means putting ourselves out there. Nothing like scheduling time to put our vulnerability on display—what fun! Good thing making mistakes is an effective way to learn.
But wait! Practicing speaking a language doesn’t require humiliation (for which the antidote is a healthy dose of menefreghismo, which means not giving a [insert expletive of choice here]). We can talk to ourselves, which has other advantages—time to think, to look up new vocabulary, to practice verb conjugations, to make notes about gaps in our knowledge. Teachers have told me to do this for years, but did I listen? No, I insisted on being my own worst enemy. But I’ve seen the light, and so these days I narrate our walks to my dog, who sometimes looks at me quizzically but overall seems happy to chat. (Would it make more sense to babble out loud in the privacy of my home? Yes.)
Another way to practice speaking is to listen to a video or podcast and parrot back what we hear, which is a great way to get used to the rhythms and sounds (and speed) of Italian. I recently watched a video in which viewers can participate in a (scripted) dialogue with the teacher, and boy oh boy do I speak waaaaay too slowly! But after the third time, I could squeeze the words into the (very brief) allotted time. What a great exercise!
If you’re still learning grammar, group classes can be good; the downside (usually) is having little time to speak. For that, one-on-one Italian conversation lessons or exchanges are better, and with plenty of options available online, the old excuse of not having anyone to practice with just doesn’t fly anymore.
The difference between speaking and comprehension is important enough that it’s been studied scientifically. If you’re not convinced you need to increase the amount of time you devote to speaking your desired language, the summary of one of those studies, cited in the article “Balancing Speaking and Listening for Language Learning,” might change your mind:
“Speaking requires individuals to integrate multiple cognitive functions at once and the authors suggest that reliance on working memory during speaking could increase the “binding” between grammar, punctuation, and vocabulary, increasing connections among these linguistic elements as the speaker forms a sentence. Comprehension practice, on the other hand, may not integrate linguistic elements in the same way because learners are given the language, and learners may be able to use native speaker cues as shortcuts[.]”
What else affects our ability to learn?
Motivation. According to many linguists/language experts, motivation is one of the principal factors—if not the principal factor—that determine success or failure in learning a language. (For more on this, watch this video or read this article.) Which raises a question: does Maria choose not to speak?
Her background is emotionally and psychologically complex—in her home country she was violent at times, including with her family, among other behavioral issues. Here in Italy those problems have disappeared. It’s possible, given what Maria has been through, that she prefers to communicate the way she does. Maybe she feels more in control, or safer, or who knows what. This is pure conjecture, mind you, though there could be truth in it. My friend, the teacher, thinks so. She says she’s often observed Maria listening to a conversation with uno sguardo (a look) that can best be described as furbo (clever, knowing). This girl knows what is going on. And she’s well behaved. If her limited speech frustrated her, it wouldn’t be unreasonable to think she’d act out in the classroom, especially considering her past behavior problems.
As for Anna, maybe she simply doesn’t have a great capacity for language learning. Or maybe, as a recent immigrant, she doesn’t want to be here and resists learning Italian as a kind of protest. Again, conjecture. The point is, simply, that how well we learn a language depends on factors other than classes taken, vocabulary acquired, and so on.
Factors? Like what? Well, pretty much everything—whether we already speak more than one language, our context for learning (solo study, group classes, immersion programs, living in Italy), our natural capacity, our willingness to make mistakes and be corrected, our learning style, our memory quality, and our ability to think on our feet, to name a few. Oh, and our physical health. Turns out our brains work better when our bodies are in good shape. We need good sleep (and enough of it), a healthy diet, and physical exercise, both aerobic and anaerobic. Cavolo! (Yes, it means cabbage, but it’s also a handy way to say “darn it!” or “what the heck!”—and a euphemism for much worse.)
Like most things in life, the process of learning a language comes with successes and failures, and one of the best ways to maximize our results is to persevere. Another is to assess our process and habits to discern what’s working well and what isn’t. With that in mind, I’ve recently made some changes in how I approach my quest for fluency. But that, as they say, is another story—and maybe the topic of another letter.
Alla prossima,
Cheryl
© 2023 Cheryl A. Ossola
Poem of the week:
“The Chaos” by Gerard Nolst Trenité (Pity the learner of English—this poem supposedly contains 800 spelling/pronunciation oddities.)
I've been terrible at learning languages all my life, but I did take a "Teaching English as a Foreign Language in grad school, and learned a lot, though I wasn't very good actually doing it. My teacher gave us an analogy about learning language that had to do with listening. He said think of it as a vessel fill up slowly with water. When the vessel starts to overflow, the person begins to speak. Fascinating.
Sorry, no she just recommends making listening a priority.