September Surrender: Day Seven
“I probably have some kind of learning disorder,” I said to one of my fellow group members here. We were talking about speaking Italian, something I have tried to learn over many many years, and something he speaks fluently. I can’t knock myself too harshly, as he grew up in a bilingual home. I didn’t. But my ability to learn it has always been called into question, and I wonder if it’s because I’m stunted, or I’m genuinely not paying enough attention.
There wasn’t this problem when I was a kid. I was a good student, always retaining information and able to be tested on it. As I got older and my interests drifted away from schoolwork, everything I learned seemed to become less and less important. My grades started slipping, but I wasn’t too concerned. It became a scramble to just move on, graduate, and not have to be schooled ever again.
All this happened in high school and certainly carried over to college. My freshman year was marred by alcohol, bad decisions, and a lack of going to lessons. I had a class on Dante’s Inferno and just never went. I don’t even know how I did on the final exam, and I spent the night before it eating pizza and falling asleep on the text book. None of this was a problem as I was a jock who got by on the skin of her teeth, until in junior year it became evident I was at risk of failing out if I didn’t get my grades up.
It was a mad dash for me to get a passing grade in linguistics, the only class that threatened to flunk me. So I did all I could to pay attention in class. I took notes, I read and re-read the materials, and reviewed everything the professor had recapped. When it came time for final exam time, I felt positive after handing it in. Days later, the results. A big fat F. I failed the class. And if I didn’t make those credits up with the class I took at Rutgers that summer, I wouldn’t have been on track to graduate. It was disappointing to say the least, considering I had actually tried that time to be a good student, and I still failed the test. Literally.
I can’t explain what happened during junior year linguistics. I’m not even sure how I made it through the rest of my educational career. But I did it, with a big help from Mom’s guidance and studious nature. Perhaps the flunk was just a fluke. And I never thought I’d need to pay attention again until I had to at this forum. I made the conscious effort to really listen to the speakers and see if I could actually learn something. Turns out, I did. It felt a little like being back in a school lecture, but I made it work. Not all the time, I still was distracted here and there, but it made me feel like I was a student of the world this time.
I can keep focus when I want. Maybe back then I just didn’t want to. Now I do. Especially now that I feel inspired to try learning Italian again after being here. Sometimes even the most intense study sessions end up in failure, but that just means there’s always room for improvement. Especially when I apply myself and do it for me instead of a report card.
Will I find success with a new language this time? Non lo so, ma sono fiducioso.
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