Saturday, May 31, 2014

the observation, or the disorientation and anxiety-producing nature of the language immersion environment

I've realized that I have a lot of anxiety around Hawaiian language immersion. That's clear in the name of this blog. Now, after having applied, attending a pre-acceptance orientation, taking my daughter to an observation, being interviewed, and attending a post-acceptance orientation, I'm starting to be a little less anxious. At least we're in, and that's one thing I no longer have to worry about. We've been deemed worthy. (I don't mean to sound like I am hating on the selection process; this is all just my own issue with always worrying what other people think of me.)

Another part of the anxiety is from the newness of preschool. I'm naturally a socially awkward person, so learning to relate to other parents, other people's children, teachers of my child... I think that's all a little anxiety-producing for me.

And then there's the anxiety that comes from being in a language environment in which I have very limited understanding of what's going on. This became especially clear to me at the observation, which was the first time I visited the school.

During the observation, the teachers addressed the children in Hawaiian. I assumed they were trying to gauge student's knowledge of the language. When we left, they spoke to us in Hawaiian. The school director mentioned a "deer in the headlights" look at a recent orientation, and I thought, "That's probably what I look like all the time in this environment." I understand that that's what immersion is; the handbook says that only Hawaiian should be spoken on school grounds, including by visitors. I understand that exposure is how you learn.

Even for myself, in the few times I've interacted with representatives of the school so far, I've learned vocab. I learned "pololei" means "correct" from the director instructing me to check the roster to see if the information is "pololei." I learned "kinai ahi" from another parent who said that is what he does for a living. I learned that "noho" can be used to refer to where you live as well as to mean "sit" from instructions a teacher gave me and from an icebreaker activity for parents that was designed to expose us to Hawaiian. (Disclaimer: I did not check whether my understanding of these words is correct pololei; this is just what I'm gathering so far of their meaning.) So already I can see how immersion works; by being put in this environment where people speak Hawaiian to me, even if a lot of the time I have no idea what's happening, I'm still picking things up.

But being in an environment where I can only barely (and sometimes not at all) understand what is happening is very, very disorienting. At the observation, my daughter asked me to read her a book. We went to the reading area, where I was excited to see so many Hawaiian language books. (We have a couple at home and have had trouble finding age-appropriate ones.) When I opened a book to read, I was prepared for my pronunciation to be horrendous, but I thought I could give it a try--and show that I was making an effort! Many of the books, however, just had too many words for me. The books we have at home have one sentence per page; that I can handle. A paragraph on a page is a bit ahead of my speed. I kept telling my daughter, "This ones too hard. Let's find an easier one."

This is not something that would ever be a concern with me for an English book, so I think this was a humbling experience. It made me think about illiterate parents and maybe even immigrant parents whose children are being educated in a language they aren't skilled in.

Wednesday, May 14, 2014

why i started this blog

My daughter was recently accepted into a Hawaiian language immersion preschool. As we have gone through the application process, orientation, child observation, and parent interview, it's become increasingly clear to me that I need to blog this experience, in particular as a non-Hawaiian parent who has not previously studied the language. Of course I have, in some ways, grown up surrounded by Hawaiian language--in place names; given and family names; concepts thrown around to promote and market everything from grocery stores to course management software; and loan words to English--but this has taught me only vocabulary. What I know about Hawaiian sentence structure is just what I know from Pidgin and reading the first chapter of the Hawaiian 101 textbook when my college roommate took it at UH Manoa. I've realized that I also have a lot of anxiety about attempting to use what little Hawaiian I know; I don't want to seem as if I'm assuming a Hawaiian identity.
Our school has made clear that it is not only our daughter who has been accepted into the program, but the family. Parents are also, for example, required to attend weekly Hawaiian language classes. As a result, this blog is as much about us as it is about her. This is a space for me to reflect on our experiences for my own learning and record-keeping, but perhaps it will be a resource as well for families curious about what to expect in language immersion.