I Can’t Speak Spanish

I can read Spanish. I can write Spanish. I can understand Spanish if I’m spoken to slowly.

But I cannot speak Spanish. Nor will I ever.

Let me be more specific: I’m afraid to speak Spanish.

The farthest I go is a random phrase or term of endearment (mi amor) to my boyfriend. But I will not speak to him regularly. I refuse to let him hear me do lessons with the apps I use.

I am embarrassed.

I try. But I always forget:

  • Which conjugations are appropriate
  • The exceptions to the rules (and there are several)
  • Which order is appropriate
  • Which freaking word is appropriate for context
  • What the heck imperative, subjunctive, and preterite mean (Granted, I don’t know the difference between “past tense” and “part participle” either, but my native tongue is English, so I don’t need to)
  • If what I’m trying to say will come out as I intend it to
  • How to finish what I want to say (more than once, I’ve tried to say a sentence, only to realize I don’t know a word I need)

Ultimately, I spend more time thinking of how to say what I want to say than saying anything out loud. The person in front of me doesn’t have time to wait for the gears in my head to finish turning, so I speak English before my thought processes can finish.

Naturally, every time I think it’s right, it’s wrong.

I reached the conclusion fluency simply will not happen for me. I never needed it. My reason for picking it up again (after years away) was my boyfriend’s family’s background, but only his mom doesn’t speak English, so it was never a necessity so much as something I merely wanted to do (because my difficulties aside, I genuinely like learning languages; I suck at it, but I like it).

I will continue playing with apps – literacy and chat – because it’s fun, but “bilingual” won’t be on my resume at any point in my lifetime, and “polyglot” is reserved for my long forgotten fan fiction characters.

 

Don’t Just “Learn To Code”

It seems “learn to code” is the replacement for “get a job”.

Yes, I know its origins, but as of late, it’s become a response to almost anyone who complains about their current job and options (or lack of), especially during 2020.

Here’s the problem: coding sucks.

At least, if it’s only a means to an end.

It’s a lot more than merely “learn to code”. A mere few months of playing on freecodecamp.org isn’t enough. Devoting a single hour every day isn’t enough. Heck, completing every single lesson on the website isn’t enough (you have dozens more websites, hundreds of books, and thousands of videos to go!).

Being self-taught and making that profitable will require years and thousands of hours.

Frankly, that’s patience I do not have. Same reason I despise gen ed courses from community college.

I don’t believe so much as basic coding is a necessity if you don’t plan to do some kind of work with it. I still haven’t met anyone who used algebra beyond high school if their field didn’t require it.

Code because you’re genuinely interested, because you’re in love with it, because you want a career out of it. Please don’t throw yourself into a humongous, frustrating world because a random person on Reddit told you.

I made this mistake when I attended community college for the first time. I never wanted to attend right after high school anyway, but since my family wouldn’t shut up, I picked a degree that was supposed to be lucrative.

I dropped by the next semester. As did several of my friends who were pressured by their families into college.

I toy around with coding when I am bored and Pok√©mon has stopped amusing me. Even then, I do it for an hour at most. The truth is I have no desire to stare at a screen for 8 – 10 hours a day. Really, I already do that, but at least it’s not every second of my shift.

Sure, you could argue most people don’t love their jobs (I certainly don’t!), but most people don’t commit years of their life to studying to get a job they hate. Some do, but certainly not most.

If someone believes they would like coding and wants to try, I’d absolutely encourage them. But if they discover they don’t like it – as I did – that’s okay. “Everyone can code” has the same context as “everyone can hold a pencil and scribble something”. I can use extremely basic HTML. That’s coding. That’s all I’ll ever be able to do, and some people can’t do that much (my boyfriend, for example, thinks the HTML to make stylized text like bold and underline looks complicated, despite I typed it right in front of him; he can’t comprehend it).

Learn to code… if you want to.

Treat Others… And Yourself

A long conversation with my boyfriend this early morning gave me huge insight into something.

I enjoy writing, particularly fan fiction and my opinions (gee, what gave the latter away?), but it dawned on me less than half a day ago I’ve been writing fan fiction for twelve years – nearly half of my life!

I never put thought into it or considered it a hobby or noticed it becoming one. I don’t recall what sparked it. All I remember is I started shortly after I watched “The Little Mermaid” when it came out on DVD in 2006, when I was 12 years old. It was the first Disney movie I ever watched, and what introduced me to Disney to begin with. I don’t remember that being any sort of inspiration, but it’s closest I can think of as a reason I may have started writing.

There were other hobbies I tried to develop later on, but I failed at them, despite genuinely liking them. As it turns out, it’s not always a bad thing to be selfish.

When I wrote, it was always for myself. Even if I made it public, and I do enjoy sharing, I was still writing for my own sake. I did it when I was bored or had some random idea pop into my mind. Most of the stories I write are kept private. As a pre-teen, I kept it secret partially out of embarrassment because they weren’t good (not to suggest my more recent stories are), but being a reserved person even back then, I didn’t care for anyone to know anyway.

But when I started drawing or playing some games or learning languages, it was for other people from the start. Drawing was sparked by my then huge love of Winx Club and jealousy of others’ amazing art, and the goal was becoming skilled enough to create fan art to share with the fandom. After finding the Sims community, I played the game more and more to create stories to share with the community. I first began learning another language in second grade, but when I got older and tried to study on my own, it was for the sake of being able to communicate with other people, not because I wanted to study. And I should mention I hated writing too… when I was forced to do it.

None of those reasons are necessarily bad, especially not the last one. But the pattern there is I became miserable with those hobbies because I was doing them for other people’s sake, not my own. Yes, I truly liked them, but they reached a point of solely being done to share with other people for their enjoyment. I stopped caring about my own. Realizing that, it’s no wonder they eventually died when I tired of trying. Yet, I never tired of writing stories, nor can I remember ever feeling burned out. I once wrote eight pages in a day. In the huge world of literature, that may be amateurish at best, but for me, it was a big deal because I wasn’t trying to.

This is not restricted to hobbies either. I did poorly in a number of things, particularly school, because they were for the sake of pleasing someone else. For a while, I succeeded in school over, but after a certain age, being a people-pleaser became too exhausting to keep up and I stopped trying so hard just to hear some praise that meant nothing to me because I didn’t want to do it in the first place, nor was I getting anything valuable out of it. Yet, I’ve discovered I am good at finding friendships, as I’ve made friends even when trying to avoid it, and I am good at holding my own relationship. But I am good at those things because although they involve other people, they are still for me. My friendships and my relationship make me happy, which is why I’m rarely hesitant to and very much enjoy doing things for my friends and my boyfriend. And the reason I hold them so highly is because they care for me. What I got out of friendship is love (platonic and romantic) and happiness I didn’t find elsewhere (please forgive the cavity-inducing sweetness). And I clearly have no problem sharing my friendships with the world!

Of course, there’s such a thing as priorities and some things have to be done, no matter how dreadful they are. This is not about that. What I’m referring to are things that are optional (yes, that now includes school). The truth is I have missed those hobbies. I miss when I did draw in my sketchbook, drawing either from imagination and tips I read, or trying to recreate a specific picture. I miss when I played video games because they relieved my boredom and I was interested in continuing the game’s story, not trying to create a story from the game to upload (though I have been slowly getting back into this one). I always hated studying, but I did like to try reading books in other languages after some weeks of classwork in my language classes, and much of the time, I could. I didn’t care I couldn’t understand what it was actually about (because I couldn’t translate quickly). I just enjoyed I could read it. I once got fun out of reading an Italian dictionary when I was still taking Italian class in tenth class, and I used to play around with DuoLingo, an app for learning languages, for the fun of the games. There may be other hobbies I’ve dropped as well, but I don’t recall them.

All along, the burn out wasn’t from doing too much, but from trying to give so much. During most of my childhood, I heard how “giving to others is a gift in itself” and “it’s better to give than to receive”. Maybe there’s such a thing as too much giving. As I said, I rarely am hesitant to give to those I care most about because I also enjoy sharing. It’s much simpler than I’m making it sound. It makes more sense to go through so much effort for someone you really love instead of dozens or hundreds of strangers you’ll never meet.

My boyfriend asked me if there’s any way to reignite those former hobbies. After realizing what I did, I think there may be. If I choose to try picking one or more of them up again, I have to remember who they’re intended for: me. They’re for myself and my pleasure. If I make them public, it’s because I want to have another place for them, not because I’m after attention and recognition. I realize those can be good motivational tools for some people, but I’m clearly not one of them. For me, hobbies are much more fun when it’s my enjoyment I have at heart. Thinking only of myself is selfish, but this is not exactly hunger I’m talking about. I’m talking about pastimes. I’m positive no one’s getting hurt.

However, I don’t think I’ll ever overcome the shock of taking twelve years to discover this. I now fear for what else I may be oblivious to. Can I trade this “identity crisis” thing for some more sketchbooks?

Falling Apart Into Place

I’ve lost a lot of my hobbies lately, all due to lack of interest. Read the rest of this entry »