Painting Chinese Trees

...
Maybe I'm a glutton for punishment....
Maybe I just don't have enough reasons to doubt my own abilities, opportunities to un-scaffold any construct on which I might hang the perception of competence.

I returned to Chinese class this morning.

I would like to think that the fact I missed the last two weeks contributes the entirety on which my struggles hang, but alas, nay verily... it is a far deeper cleft from which I murmer.
And it's a double-bind, too: I truly enjoy my classmates.. all three of them... co-strugglers in this quest of knowledge and cultural relevance; I truly honor, respect, and feel sorry for my laoshi who is persistent in trying to frame my contributions in a positive light... Lord, bless her. The problem is me: I am the worst adult student ever to have taken a Mandarin class in the history of Western civilization. Notice I clarified adult student... I teach high schoolers and have tried to engage in rudimentary dialog with those who are learning Mandarin, and even though I am quite certain my pronunciation and tonal use is spot-on, my attempts elicit a facial expression not unlike that of a cow noticing a passing car. And so in typing this, I come to this horrendous awareness that I am now comparing my acuity with a post-pubescent population; pitiful.

The new housemate JuJu asked, in the midst of a self-deprecating, non-actualizing intraverbal wrestling match of Jacobian proportion this week(though Israel's opponent was in a different League), aware that I had not only NOT studied any Mandarin this week but didn't really have time available, he sincerely asked an important question: "Jim, so why are you taking Chinese?"
It's an important question, and the answer is easy.. initially.
I would rather answer why I am taking Chinese class, than try to explain why I have not applied myself as much as possible.
Why study Mandarin?
I want to be able to talk to people wherever I go, and since China is taking over the world, they own America through our debts, and they have more students learning English today than WE HAVE STUDENTS, TOTAL, it seemed logical to be able to speak to our future overlords.
It also is connected to my trek to China a few years ago with the greatest people in the world, my students. The problem was I was completely incompetent to be able to 1) engage this amazing culture into which I was visiting, 2) be able to tell the cab driver where to take me, or 3) simply ask where the bathroom is located. Fortunately China has copied our US policy of providing information in foreign script so as to keep foreigners from assimilating, hence the bano could usually be found via public iconographia. But I wished I had SOME idea what the families were saying as we passed by, following the flag-lady-guide-person throughout the day.
So.. That means it's about control and wanting to be in it.
There is something humbling to have to ask the hostel's clerk to write a destination on a notecard, then wave down a cabbie, handing them the card like a deaf/mute before they begin to actually ask a question. I wonder if that is what a stroke victim experiences when they are re-learning how to communicate even though they know what they want to say?

I truly appreciate my laoshi, and all the time and energy she puts into the four of us adult learners. As a CBCD she and her husband are continuing to learn English, and her grasp of our language is excellent and ongoing. Her family worships in this bilingual Christian community, and her 2 children are ABCD and cut their teeth on Yingwen. I am one of two Anglo's in about 100 students in the school, and even David is married to a Chinese person; my motivation is not the same as many of the ABCD's around me, that's what I tell myself in order to rationalize why I am such a poor student. To be fair to Jim, almost EVERYbody else has family or intimate friends with whom they can converse, practicing not only speaking (I try that in the car when nobody can hear me) but more importantly listening, processing and responding: communication.

At this point in today's blog I am reminded of my pastor/friend who I will refer to as Goatee Sean, who once started off his sermon meandering through some unforgotten point and at 45 minutes... 45 minutes... said... out loud: "..which brings me to the point of tonight's message..", at which my terrified glance was reflected back to me by the Yetti in that mutual, telepathic understanding: "You mean he hasn't even begun his sermon yet?!"

Indeed, yet context is helpful. So today in class my brain hears for the first time what my ears have heard regularly before, when Luoloashi says something like, "Oh, yes, we have learned that before.. it is on page 135," and so our fantastic four flip our textbooks to some word that may actually have been glanced over 4 weeks ago en passe ... "learned"?
And then I remember.. all the times this was said: "Oh yes, we learned that 3 months ago..", and I suddenly felt really, really sorry for some of my biology students. Not because I was being unreasonable in expecting to hold onto their hard-earned understanding of dehydration synthesis, or the monomers of proteins (amino acids, for you former students)-- a teacher.... a laoshi... is supposed to have high expectations for his/her students. Students will most likely achieve what is expected of them, whether high or low, so I aim high.
So does my laoshi; she should-- she is good at what she does.
So then I am faced with this awful realization that I AM THAT KID watching the clock, wondering when class is going to end so I can go do something that helps me feel confident about being me.
But I also know that one-time mentioning it does not teaching make.

Teaching is not lecturing. If that is true, they should fire the lot of us, including college professors, and use tuition money to buy books on tape (or mp3). Or better yet, we just surf YouTube and Wiki our way through our curiosities, if that is what teaching is.
But it is not the same, is it. That idea would be the equivalent to comparing education to painting a mural on a wall using oil paints: once it's laid down, it's good to go.
I'm sorry, but that does not speak to my reality, how my brain works. That metaphor would be more accurate for me if you used colored sand on a windy day.
No, for me teaching is best described in the metaphor of planting an apple seed in hopes of producing a tree. A planting does not a tree always make. And this is especially true if the seed is resistant to surrendering itself to the process of tree-making.
For my species of tree, the soil is best aerated and prepared beforehand, and once the seed is planted at the appropriate depth, the soil covers it and is watered to begin this process of germination.

I guess that's the idea; knowledge is growth, whether biological or linguistic. It is not a point in time, it is an organic process. Following the planting comes watering and re-watering and re-watering. And cultivation of weeds, clarifying errors that have popped up.
And once it has taken root, it is destined to produce fruit.

And so to my classmates: may we prepare to the best of our abilities.
And to our laoshi's: may you work us and tend to us as the greatest of gardeners.

I'm done.