Week Thirteen: (Not) Enough!

This week, my Kinyarwanda study wasn’t as productive as I would have liked. Sure, I was sick for the duration of it. In fact, I continue to be sick, which is probably an indicator, at this time in the semester, that I allowed myself to get worn down, concentrating too much on external commitments (i.e. school, work) without allowing myself the necessary time to focus on the internal (i.e. mind, body, spirit). I can recognize this and understand that I shouldn’t be too hard on myself about it, but still I am frustrated. I don’t want my language study to decelerate or even stop, before the end of the semester, particularly as it sets a bad precedent for a time in which I will not have school to structure it.

Accordingly, this week reminded me that independent language study isn’t strictly about managing what I am learning and at what rate, but also my emotional levels. If I was in a formal classroom, my slowed language study might be an indication that to some instructors that I am lazy or unmotivated or *some other negative adjective*, but as I am both instructor/student (in a way), I am privy to both sides. I am:

doing it! but not fast enough!

learning! but not enough!

trying! but not hard enough!

exceeding! but not enough!

doing things at my own pace! but it’s not enough!

Oh! Enough of the not enough! Indeed, whereas a formal classroom might explicitly state what is enough and what is not enough, my independent language study allows me to determine that for myself. While that, in and of itself, might be a bit challenging, insofar as it lends itself to getting in my own and staying there (which distracts from the task at hand), it also pushes me to find a balance between what I am doing, what I want to be doing, and what I have to do to get there. And that just has to be enough for now!

Murakoze, kandi murabeho!

Week Twelve: Investment and Power Structures in Language Learning

This week, my Kinyarwanda language study witnessed me trying to regulate my learning. Indeed, insofar as I am in the process of constructing an assessment to evaluate my performance this semester, I am trying to “take stock” of what I have learned in comparison to what I set out to learn. Reflecting back on the beginning of the semester, however, I am not sure I had a clear picture of what I wanted to learn or, better put, what I wanted to do with the material that I learned. 

Pertinently, I read Bonny Norton Pierce’s article “Social Identity, Investment, and Language Learning” for another course in which I am enrolled, African 575: Methods in Teaching African Langauges- Theory and Practice. In the article, Norton Pierce proposes that “the language learner [h]as… a complex social identity that must be understood with reference to larger, frequently inequitable social structures,” after examining the experiences of five female ESL students in a Canadian context (13). Of course, the article does much more than what follows, including staging a very provocative discussion of power and identity, but for my purposes here, the notion of investment is equally important. The author states:

Some forms of cultural capital have a higher exchange value than others in a given social context. I take the position that if         learners invest in a second language, they do so with the understanding that they will acquire a wider range of symbolic and material resources, which will in turn increase the value of their cultural capital. Learners will expect or hope to have a good return on that investment- a return that will give them access hitherto unattainable resources. (17)

In reflecting on my own studies, I can admit: Sure, I am learning Kinyarwanda to gain access to material resources that I would otherwise not have access to, such as testimony, archival documents, and creative responses to the Genocide; however, I am also learning Kinyarwanda to earn a smile from my guesthouse keeper, to surprise the random passerby gawking at the “umuzungu,” and, ultimately, to talk to a person in his/her language without the expectation that they speak mine. These are hardly measurable exchanges, but it is what I wish to do with the language nonetheless.

In addition, I believe it to be reflective of a power exchange taking place. Outside the context of my research and my travels to Rwanda, my speaking Kinyarwanda has little exchange value. Indeed, it is not a critical language, nor is it taught widely within the United States. If I were being completely honest, within the context of Rwandan Genocide literature, the French language would be more useful to my studies. With that said, however, it shouldn’t be strictly about me and what I am getting out of this- my language study-, and in order to be an ethical researcher, I feel I must consider the perspectives of my subjects. Accordingly, I have concluded that the narrative of Rwanda belongs to Rwandans, and they should be able to express it in whatever language they would like, whether it be English, French, or Kinyarwanda, but in order to listen and to listen well, I have to know these languages too.

Perhaps these are not revolutionary ideas, or at least they shouldn’t be, but I find myself reflecting on them still. Such thoughts will help sustain me to the end of the semester and throughout the course of my language study, when I feel discouraged or have trouble seeing the “big picture.”

Now back to my self-assessment…

Week Eleven: Moving in a Big and Small World

This week, my Kinyarwanda language study witnessed me preparing to construct a self-assessment that will gage my progress throughout the semester. This process, however, forced me to think about a different sort of development that has occurred in the past few months, that is- my own increased comfort, or at least familiarization, with the University of Wisconsin- Madison and the surrounding area.

Indeed, I began the academic year a little trepidatious. I was in a new city in a new state, in a new department in a new university, surrounded by new people in new classes. With all this change, I felt a bit lost, if not a little lonely. I didn’t know where this was, I didn’t know who I was supposed to talk to or seek guidance from, and I definitely didn’t always know what I was supposed to be doing or, better yet, when. This general state of confusion carried over to my language study. I did not know how to approach it initially, and given the world-context of Kinyarwanda, I felt even more lost. No longer was it merely a question about how to get from Van Hise Hall to Sequoya Library (a task, in and of itself), but now it was identifying proper resources on the World Wide Web, locating speakers of a language spoken on a different continent, and thinking of opportunities to travel there and immerse myself in the culture. My task was vast, and I doubted whether I could find all the sources I needed in Madison alone.

My defeatist attitude before my independent study even began disappoints me now, but African 670/697 really assisted me in changing it. At the most concrete level, it provided me with opportunities to navigate UW-Madison, encouraging me to travel in and around the Memorial Library, visit the Design Lab in the College Library (yes, two libraries within approximately a two-block radius of each other), and locate Sequoya Library (a Madison community library quite a bit further from campus than two blocks). On a more abstract level, it allowed me to see the resources available to me at UW-Madison, from an impressive African Studies collection at the Memorial Library (including resources on Kinyarwanda) to talks and other events sponsored by the African Studies Program, as well as activities sponsored by the African Association of Madison (including Africa Fest) and Africans living in Madison (including my Kinyarwanda language mentor, A). Finally, this class helped me to realize that I am not entirely alone on campus. Indeed, I have a small community of language learners here to support me, should I need it, and I am here to do the same for them.

UW-Madison is a big place, but then again, so is the world. When we only see it as such, however, it can be rather daunting. When we travel and experience it though, forging connections along the way, perhaps it seems smaller. Size is relative though, isn’t it? So, maybe it’s not the size that changes. It’s us. We are constantly moving, nearer to this, further from that, and that informs our perspective. 

So yes, I am still a little nervous, and maybe even a little lonely, but I am still moving.

Week Ten: Byina! (Dance!)

This week, my language study witnessed me returning to my individualized study plan in order to revise it based on factors such as motivation, personality, learning styles, and preferred strategies. In so doing, the significance of my language-learning blog became all the more apparent to me, you- as in the blog itself- relies on a degree of metacognition that I don’t think my language-learning has quite experienced before. With that said, you- as in the readers of my blog (who I imagine to be my classmates in and professor of African 670/697)- have also become an invaluable resource to me, as well, due to your unwavering support and guidance as we all locate and build our learning methods and strategies. Thank you both.

At a more concrete level, however, I have been making a concentrated effort to incorporate Quizlet and Kinyarwanda music videos into my everyday “rhythm.” Of course, Quizlet is fun, and it operates as a bit of a game, but what I’d like to talk about most is the use of Kinyarwanda music in my language-learning. Indeed, when I proposed the idea in class, I insisted that replacement of my typical radio station with songs in the target language, would be helpful, as I listen, sing along, and dance to music in English, while performing passive tasks. My own sense of logic indicated that I would do the same if the music were in Kinyarwanda, which prompted one of my classmates, La, to encourage me to consider the possibility of kinesthetic learning, which, confessionally, I had never done even though I am an effective learner in both auditory and visual learning styles. 

In considering the relationship between movement and learning, I began to think- I could create my own dance moves to match the songs, which might enable learning, but I could also watch the traditional dance videos and mimic the movement I see, in order to gain a cultural component as well. Perhaps that contradicts the notion of listening to music while completing passive tasks, but then again, if it enhances my language-learning, I don’t want to eliminate the possibility. In fact, and though this may be a little embarrassing, this thought process prompted an image of my being included in a dance either here (in Madison’s annual Africa Fest) or in Rwanda. Perhaps that image doesn’t necessarily fit my personality, but a certain level of preparedness or familiarity with Rwandan dance appeals to me. Regardless, however, you must not anticipate a video of me performing a dance any time soon, if ever. 

Once again returning to a more tangible component of my language-learning, however, I noticed that my language partner, A, seemed very distracted during our last conversation, and even though he became excited gradually, he also seemed eager to leave. Perhaps something was going on in his personal life, but I hope last week wasn’t a reflection of diminished enthusiasm regarding our project. I will have to keep you all advised on this matter.

Murakoze, kandi murabeho!

p.s. A song/dance of the Kinyarwanda culture: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5Ui91236OwY