You’re never too old to speak from the heart

French Bob
March 30, 2012
Tags: homeschooling, traveling with kids

I would be lying if I told you I was a linguist. But from the time I was a child, the ability to speak languages ranked high on my life priorities. It distressed me as a kid to think that the only way I might connect with strangers in foreign lands was if they happened to speak English. Thus, throughout high school and college I studied French and Spanish. Then I got a job in Japan and studied Japanese, too.

Somewhere along the line I came to the conclusion that I could spend years in a classroom mastering the mechanics of verb conjugations, adjective agreements and literary nuance. Or, I could get myself to a foreign land, smile broadly, and fumble through with the skills that I had. I would love to claim that I mastered all the languages I studied, but I came to a point when I decided “good enough,” and went out to have fun. I wanted the language skills to connect with humans, and once those goals were met, I was willing to make room in my brain for other things.

The skills have been a great passport to the world, and I am thankful I learned them while I was young. I’ve encouraged Saoirse and Ula to do the same. But I never encouraged Bob.

He never learned to speak a foreign language. Before we traveled to France for the first time 7 years ago, however, he enrolled himself in an introductory French course. In preparation for this trip, he loaded a French language course onto an mp3 player, plugged in some earbuds and went for a one our walk every day for 3 months prior to our departure, where he practiced speaking French in the hills and forests of West Fulton.

And I never gave him one word of support. I didn’t say anything discouraging; I just never said anything at all. I felt as though his window for learning the language had passed, and he might better spend his time reading up on the art, history and culture that appealed to him, rather than weighing himself down with the impossible task of mastering a language.

A few weeks ago, I was sitting here at my desk in St. Pierre, responding to emails and trying to arrange some upcoming trip details, when Bob stepped in the front door.

“Can you come here, please? I really need you.” I went out to our little courtyard to find him standing, smiling and nodding with two neighbors, completely lost in the conversation. “Ma femme,” he gestured grandly, then bowed to the side of the conversation so that I could translate. He kept smiling during the dialogue, but I could see the sadness and frustration in his eyes.

It was narrow-minded of me to dismiss Bob’s efforts to learn the language. Perhaps he is too much of a grown-up to master French grammar, but no one is too grown-up to crave a moment of connection with another human being; and language, in his mind, is where that starts. I try to tell him that language comes from the heart, that gestures and smiles are more important than words; that he should try to understand the person and not the vocabulary and grammar of what they are saying.

All of that is true, but it is predicated on having a little rudimentary linguistic skill to start with. So the next day we sat down at a picnic table beside the river in front of our house. We read a board book in French with Ula. We practiced some vocabulary that mattered to her: the names of her favorite toys, the colors. Then Saoirse and I practiced reading a children’s story aloud, working on our pronunciation and translations. Bob sat with us through all of it. And then the girls ran off to play, and Bob and I cracked out a French text book. We worked through a lesson together, asking each other questions, correcting each other’s pronunciations, teasing apart grammar rules and practicing our conversation. A few neighbors quietly strolled by as we struggled along. We must have sounded like absolute fools. But we managed to laugh a lot, and I learned a lot of new vocabulary and remembered a lot of forgotten grammar rules. More importantly, I remembered that language comes from the heart, and it is worth exploring it with everyone I love, not just those who seem young enough to master it fluently. We’ve been practicing together ever since, and I’ve seen Bob engage in more broken full-hearted conversations than I ever imagined possible. It’s thrilling to watch, and he’s charming his way around the village.
Comments
March 30, 2012 3:03 PM EDT
Just love French Bob and all of the love and adventure that you share…. and all from the heart!
– Diane Campbell
March 30, 2012 6:11 PM EDT
I could not be more touched by the love and affection expressed in you story of your and Bob’s journey through the big world around us. Keep on being the same people you are and wonderful memories will be made along the way. Thanks for sharing them so eloquently
– Jane Osborne
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