TEACH YOUR CHILDREN

“Why can’t the English teach their children how to speak?” Professor Henry Higgins Kind, well-intentioned people frequently ask me, “And, of course, you are teaching your children English, right? Hmmm? Are you?” They purse their lips into a smile and peer deeply into my soul to make sure that I’m not lying when I stammer, “Oh, yes, absolutely, more and more, all the time. They soak it up like little sponges.” Which is the literal truth, technically speaking. Like first rate little sponges, they take it all in and nothing comes out. I feel like the guy in the cartoon with the singing frog that belts out “Hello my baby, hello my honey” every time they’re alone, but turns shy in the presence of company. At home they’re constantly singing “Row row row your boat” and “Davy Davy Crockett king of the wild frontier” and “I been workin’ on the railroad all the liblong day” like good little gringitos, chattering away in their own little blend of English, Spanish and nonsense, but out in public they succumb to stage fright and clam up. Since it seems Sra Brady and I can’t even take a taxi to a restaurant without the chofer, the waiter, even eavesdroppers and passersby without bilingual children of their own all piling on, giving us the third degree about teaching our kids English, this shyness is proving to be a bit of a problem. For a brief, passing phase we had our daughter trained to reel off the English names for all her favorite animals. Mom says “conejo”, she says “rabbit”, and kind, well-intentioned inquisitors are mollified and leave us alone. Unfortunately, she outgrew that phase. Now, whenever a nice lady dotingly asks her and her brother something in English, even though they damn well know the right answer, they look timidly down at their shoes and mumble inaudibly. It’s more than embarrassing. I’m seriously worried that the

www.interpolchildcare police/ attn:languageenforce mentdept.org are going to swoop down on us with a pop quiz and a warrant to transfer the Bradycitos to a faraway grammar school. In our own defense, I swear we spend hours every day (Hear me? Hours! Every day! Is that enough?) communicating in English, or at least trying to. My theory is that it is all sinking in like seeds and will bear fruit the minute they have to speak English with another child, at which point they will suddenly become exuberantly fluent. Meanwhile, whenever we venture out in public, it’s easier to relax and speak Spanish, in spite of all the disapproving stares. After all, we’re in Mexico. Our little ones might be underachievers in their foreign language studies, but at least they are not suffering from that traumatic modern childhood disorder, disfluency. Disflu-ency is the state of confusion that results when pre-school prodigies are overbombarded and pressured with a bewildering array of foreign words and symbols, causing stammering, stuttering and autodiscombo-bulationalism. If you don’t believe me, punch the word “disfluency” into your google and read for yourself. Disfluency experts theorize that for optimal development of childhood language skills, it is best to employ a “salad bar” approach which makes available a plethora of stimulating information, often in the form of Disney videos, and encourages the child to pick and choose his/her linguistical nourishment at his/her own individual pace. I especially like this theory because it’s fun and easy and if things don’t work out, it’s the lazy child’s fault. (Note to anyone who might feel the least bit miffed or ticked by this attempt at humor: Of course I’m not talking about you! Your wise and insightful advice is always welcome!) eg@pacificpearl.com