The past two weeks have been some of the most challenging since I began studying Burmese, largely due to feeling stuck in a prolonged rut. Struggling to recall vocabulary or make sense of syntax. Dreading the thought of leaving my warm bed to face the winter blues and drive to FSI. Feeling so drained that I fall asleep the moment I lie down, before forming a single memory.
Unexpected breaks from the routine—due to snow and illness—provided some relief, even though I was eager to get back to business as usual after the holidays. Yet, language learning continued to be a roller coaster of highs and lows for me.
Nearing the halfway point of this 44-week journey, I’ve solidified my determination to see it through, regardless of how much I think I suck at Burmese or even whether I ultimately pass. Looking back, I’ll likely view this stage as a pivotal point.
This isn’t to say I’ve had quitting on my mind since I started Burmese. In fact, up until week 12 I was enjoying the class a lot.
And I wouldn’t have anticipated feeling any other way. During past FSI language study, I’d never even imagined someone might try and break an assignment unless they simply could no longer serve at Post. I’ve certainly never wavered in my commitment to take the Rangoon assignment, and have continued to look forward to being there even when the language acquisition itself felt unbearable.
However, for the past several weeks I have increasingly felt discouraged about the class and my own learning process. It’s not just that Burmese is difficult. During Week 19 I also reached a near-crisis point of feeling hopeless about my ability to learn it well enough to be effective in my future job. And if I felt that way, and didn’t think I could improve with more study, did it mean I should try to find something else to do?
Thinking of slogging through another seven months made me want to — at minimum— travel back in time 18 months and tell myself not to bid a job requiring an Asian tonal language. This isn’t going to be for you, I’d advise knowingly. Push hard for a Slavic language.
I did! Again! I’d say with frustration.
Or bid a job that isn’t language-designated!
(Eyeroll. Because no one else has thought of this.)
I tend to frame challenging situations as “Can I?” (and of course the answer is ‘yes,’) even when I should be thinking, “Do I want to?”
I no longer bid on posts that require language training, a colleague told me flatly. Well, silly me, I thought.
But I’m here now. And I’ve had doubts. Doubts that the gap between what I’m learning and what I should be achieving is one I’ll ever fully close. Doubts that the class structure, format, or materials can truly set me up for success. Doubts about how enduring seven more months of frustration might impact my health.
Ultimately, it was through my own personal rediscovery of the language that I found renewed resolve.
Week 19 had an atypical class schedule due to a snowstorm that had struck the DC metro area at the end of Week 18. As weather and safety concerns had made traveling to FSI impractical, our Burmese class continued with our regular lesson plans online and on-camera Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday as local authorities tried to clear roads.
Unfortunately, I was also so sick and run down I could not attend two of our three virtual learning days. Despite it seeming as “simple” as walking to the next room and turning on my laptop, it never really is, and I couldn’t be present physically or mentally.
Then on Thursday, the government was closed for a national day of mourning following the passing of former President Jimmy Carter. Friday when we did return, it was in-person, and fortunately our teacher took it easy on us. My brain felt a little addled, but I kept a smile on my face regardless of what came out of my mouth.
We kept plugging along through Week 20 and fortunately, I noticed myself slowly feeling lighter about everything. It wasn’t magic, but intention. Once you decide you’re going to do your best with no worry about or attachment to outcome, a great thing happens: you’re only responsible for your own efforts.
That was the breakthrough I needed several weeks ago, but I was too busy feeling upset about all the ways FSI language training can be dysfunctional and how that dysfunction was affecting me.
My concerns are still valid, of course. But perhaps it’s accurate to say my actual concern is less.
Long-term language training feels like a long surrender. A surrender to the hair-raising daily embarrassment of sounding stupid in front of your colleagues. A surrender to making mistake after mistake after mistake. A surrender to the test anxiety, the never-ending homework assignments, the ambiguity inherent in the learning process.
And the long-term struggle to frame and reframe your own attitude and perspective so you don’t lose your sense of humor about the absurdity of it all.
For me, during this time I rediscovered more than just more texts I can’t read or words I can’t pronounce. I also rediscovered my excitement about the end game of all of this (going to Burma!!) and how — like one’s individual religious beliefs — the language as I discover it belongs to only me. It can be mine: imperfect, halting, and the doorway to beautiful future experiences I cannot yet imagine. I’m trying to rediscover my belief, too, that I can do hard things.
Collecting Postcards 