Speak English Me

At every game, she sits by herself. Sometimes, she has headphones in her ears. They effectively isolate her, insulate her, cut her off from the world and the people in it.

People don't approach her, because she seems so unapproachable. Ashamedly, I do not approach her either.

And yet, I think, she is not unsociable. She doesn't carry with her the taint of contempt for her fellow human beings.

She smiles when someone catches her eye. She claps when a good play is made. She tells my son and all the boys on the team that they've done well. Her English is very poor, but they understand praise in any language.

One day, I get the opportunity of working with her in the concession stand.

She tries to make small talk, but it's obviously difficult for her. I try to repsond in kind, but sometimes I misunderstand. Our conversations are stilted and laborious.

So we stand, both leaning forward on the weathered wood of the counter. And we stare out into the brilliant sun, connected, but unspeaking.

Suddenly she sighs, and says..."Is so HARD!"

There is anguish in her voice, embarassment, sadness. I look over, and there are tears in her eyes.

"What is it?" I ask.

"I try learn English. But my, err...work, is no English speak. All Spanish."

"Oh..." I say, waiting for her to continue.

"I ask sons, speak English me! They no want listen my English. They too....hurry."

I nod, understanding. The impatience of adolescent boys is something every mother can relate to. It's a phenomenon that crashes through cultural barriers.

"Oh...yes..." I say. "That makes it very hard to learn, doesn't it?"

"YES." she sighs.

I tell her, in toddlerspeak, that I used to speak fluent French, but because I have not used it for 15 years, I can scarcely conjugate a verb anymore. I tell her I'm sad about that.

"I take class now. I learn English. I not be embarass."

"Good for you! I bet you'll learn it very quickly."

"I er..hope."

She smiles then. She feels better having told someone that she is not lazy or contemptuous of our language and our culture. It is often assumed such. And I realize, that it can't be easy to live with that kind of judgement always hanging over your head.

She asks me many questions that day. What is the name for this? How do I say that? Do you always call it a such and such? Do the adjectives always come before the noun?

I like it, this teaching. And she likes the learning.

She seems a little happier now. She doesn't always sit with headphones on. She says hello, she asks..."Please speak English me."

She is brave. She is determined.

And in a strange, completely non-maternal way...I am proud of her.