Who Am I?
I was born in Quito, Ecuador, amongst towering mountains and blue skies. My parents grew up in Ecuador their entire lives. However, my father decided to become a diplomat and thus changed the course of my family’s life. As soon as I was born, my parents were sent to Rome, Italy, on their first mission. We spent five years there, and Italian was my first language. During our stay, my little sisters were born, and I learned early on the joys of teaching. Growing up, I would model games for them, teach them alphabet songs, and tease them to death.
When I was five I was surprised to discover that we would be moving “back home”. And so we did. Adjusting to life in Ecuador was difficult for me. I had become painfully shy and every morning I dreaded going to school to be teased by my classmates because I was a slow runner and because I didn’t know any English words, like my classmates did. I mean, I was already trying to learn Spanish, for heaven’s sake! But learn I did, and soon I became bilingual AND a fast runner. Although I made friends, and got used to my Spanish-language environment, I still couldn’t get the hang of English. My teachers and my mom would smack their foreheads in annoyance at my inability to learn this mysterious language.
Just as I was settling in, my eighth birthday brought my parents’ announcement that we would be moving to Maryland, U.S.A. This turned out to be the toughest move of all. I spent the first few months at Burning Tree Elementary School by myself. All I could really do was listen to this new language, and try and absorb it into my memory. I learned by listening intently, modeling the language at home, repeating words over and over until I sounded like my classmates, and writing and reading at school. I will never forget the wonderful teachers who helped me along the way.
When I learned I would be going to ESOL class, I just wondered what the acronym meant. I didn’t question anything too much because a couple of times a week, I got to leave class and the exhaustion of trying to fit in. ESOL turned out to be the class I most looked forward to. I could come in and spout broken English to a teacher who always seemed to understand what I was saying. I could sympathize with my Chinese friend who seemed to be more lost in translation than I was. Mrs. Hindes, our teacher, let our new language flow through games, fun activities, and easygoing conversation. She didn’t teach me English, I learned it every second of the day, but she gave me the safe place and outlet I needed to just speak and write all of the things I was too embarrassed to mess up in class. I have never forgotten her.
I became bolder, and finally marched up to a quirky classmate I admired, and asked to join her game of tag. And so it began. I had friends, I could speak to them, understand them, and I could finally do my homework without stumbling over every third word. English became like a second skin. I started thinking in English, singing in English, speaking in English, dreaming in English. I realized that language had been my thing all along; I had just needed the right guidance, the right teacher, the right environment, and the courage to make mistakes and keep going.
My life continued to revolve around language. After growing up in the United States, my family moved back to Ecuador for my high school years. My parents had spoken Spanish to us throughout our life in the U.S., and yet, it was no longer natural, no longer easy for me to speak and write Spanish. So once again, I read, I listened, I made friends, I watched movies, I drank it all in. I began to produce fairly decent essays and papers at school. Thanks to a wonderful Literature teacher, I read and appreciated Borges, Vargas Llosa, García Márquez. It was wonderful to rediscover the language and culture of my parents. I went to a million Quinceañera parties and while dancing to the salsa beats, sang along to the beautiful Spanish lyrics. Language opened up a whole new world of experiences. It reconnected me with the culture I had been born into. Simultaneously, my bilingual school and my American friends linked me back to the twangy diphthongs I had left behind.
Then: college in France. Language seemed to have turned its back on me once more. I sat in class, frustrated, understanding half of what was being said. I drew a blank with the clerk at a store. I suppressed tears when a professor yelled at me in class, calling me an idiot because I had failed to understand his directions. Language had become aloof, distant, incomprehensible, and I was determined to woo it back into submission. Once again, my friends became my teachers, my teachers became my friends, and I began to use every sense to absorb the beautiful sounds and meanings that surrounded me.
I have had a passionate, at times fitful relationship with these languages, but I love listening to them, deconstructing them, learning them, and teaching them. I was a language tutor during my high school years, having conversation lessons with adults who needed to brush up on their English. I again tutored for the university while in college. It was the best and most satisfactory part of my day.
When I graduated, I moved back to Ecuador, and had the opportunity to make teaching my profession. I taught an advanced English class to semi-native and advanced learners, 1st through 6th grade. My students alternately inspired and exasperated me, but I cannot shake the feeling of wonder I experienced when one of them eloquently argued a point during a class discussion, or when I read a beautifully written essay by a student who a few months prior had struggled with syntax, or simply with the same fits of shyness that had once been my affliction. I have never enjoyed any occupation more, and I know this is what I would like to do.
I have just completed a Master’s in TESOL at New York University, an experience which has given me the tools to embark on the journey of becoming a skilled teacher. I hope you consider me, as I know I can make a mark in your institution.
When I was five I was surprised to discover that we would be moving “back home”. And so we did. Adjusting to life in Ecuador was difficult for me. I had become painfully shy and every morning I dreaded going to school to be teased by my classmates because I was a slow runner and because I didn’t know any English words, like my classmates did. I mean, I was already trying to learn Spanish, for heaven’s sake! But learn I did, and soon I became bilingual AND a fast runner. Although I made friends, and got used to my Spanish-language environment, I still couldn’t get the hang of English. My teachers and my mom would smack their foreheads in annoyance at my inability to learn this mysterious language.
Just as I was settling in, my eighth birthday brought my parents’ announcement that we would be moving to Maryland, U.S.A. This turned out to be the toughest move of all. I spent the first few months at Burning Tree Elementary School by myself. All I could really do was listen to this new language, and try and absorb it into my memory. I learned by listening intently, modeling the language at home, repeating words over and over until I sounded like my classmates, and writing and reading at school. I will never forget the wonderful teachers who helped me along the way.
When I learned I would be going to ESOL class, I just wondered what the acronym meant. I didn’t question anything too much because a couple of times a week, I got to leave class and the exhaustion of trying to fit in. ESOL turned out to be the class I most looked forward to. I could come in and spout broken English to a teacher who always seemed to understand what I was saying. I could sympathize with my Chinese friend who seemed to be more lost in translation than I was. Mrs. Hindes, our teacher, let our new language flow through games, fun activities, and easygoing conversation. She didn’t teach me English, I learned it every second of the day, but she gave me the safe place and outlet I needed to just speak and write all of the things I was too embarrassed to mess up in class. I have never forgotten her.
I became bolder, and finally marched up to a quirky classmate I admired, and asked to join her game of tag. And so it began. I had friends, I could speak to them, understand them, and I could finally do my homework without stumbling over every third word. English became like a second skin. I started thinking in English, singing in English, speaking in English, dreaming in English. I realized that language had been my thing all along; I had just needed the right guidance, the right teacher, the right environment, and the courage to make mistakes and keep going.
My life continued to revolve around language. After growing up in the United States, my family moved back to Ecuador for my high school years. My parents had spoken Spanish to us throughout our life in the U.S., and yet, it was no longer natural, no longer easy for me to speak and write Spanish. So once again, I read, I listened, I made friends, I watched movies, I drank it all in. I began to produce fairly decent essays and papers at school. Thanks to a wonderful Literature teacher, I read and appreciated Borges, Vargas Llosa, García Márquez. It was wonderful to rediscover the language and culture of my parents. I went to a million Quinceañera parties and while dancing to the salsa beats, sang along to the beautiful Spanish lyrics. Language opened up a whole new world of experiences. It reconnected me with the culture I had been born into. Simultaneously, my bilingual school and my American friends linked me back to the twangy diphthongs I had left behind.
Then: college in France. Language seemed to have turned its back on me once more. I sat in class, frustrated, understanding half of what was being said. I drew a blank with the clerk at a store. I suppressed tears when a professor yelled at me in class, calling me an idiot because I had failed to understand his directions. Language had become aloof, distant, incomprehensible, and I was determined to woo it back into submission. Once again, my friends became my teachers, my teachers became my friends, and I began to use every sense to absorb the beautiful sounds and meanings that surrounded me.
I have had a passionate, at times fitful relationship with these languages, but I love listening to them, deconstructing them, learning them, and teaching them. I was a language tutor during my high school years, having conversation lessons with adults who needed to brush up on their English. I again tutored for the university while in college. It was the best and most satisfactory part of my day.
When I graduated, I moved back to Ecuador, and had the opportunity to make teaching my profession. I taught an advanced English class to semi-native and advanced learners, 1st through 6th grade. My students alternately inspired and exasperated me, but I cannot shake the feeling of wonder I experienced when one of them eloquently argued a point during a class discussion, or when I read a beautifully written essay by a student who a few months prior had struggled with syntax, or simply with the same fits of shyness that had once been my affliction. I have never enjoyed any occupation more, and I know this is what I would like to do.
I have just completed a Master’s in TESOL at New York University, an experience which has given me the tools to embark on the journey of becoming a skilled teacher. I hope you consider me, as I know I can make a mark in your institution.