In the seventh grade, my pre-algebra teacher Ms. Sibley would give us vocabulary worksheets. I hated them with a burning passion. Ms. Sibley was easily the most eclectic teacher I ever had. On our first day of class, she told us a story about when she was a little girl a dog bit her, and instead of crying she bit it right back. She made us take our shoes off to learn about exponents. She wrote a parody of Salt-N-Peppa's "Let's Talk About Sex" to teach us about number sets. We were twelve. I assumed math vocabulary worksheets were just another tool she invented to torture us. But when we complained, she said in a very poor, probably offensive Italian accent, "You don't speak the language, you don't make the pizza pie!"
Chapter four made me think of Ms. Sibley's seventh grade pre-algebra class.
Trevor Noah teaches us a great deal about the importance of language. It is his means of survival. He avoids getting mugged by speaking Zulu. He is able to find solidarity with people simply by knowing how to speak to them. This is something that I feel like we as English-speaking Americans take for granted most of the time. Wherever we go in the world, we expect to be able to communicate with people at least a little bit. But Noah has to really apply himself to blend in anywhere. Being a ployglot is his means of survival, and that is so incredible to me in so many ways. But at the same time, it seems like being a self-proclaimed chameleon would make it difficult to find any sense of personal identity. Maybe this is part of why Noah acts out so much in the school setting. His natural creativity and curiosity are likely much harder to manage when coupled with an inability to find true community with any group of peers. Noah can speak any language, but it doesn't change his genetics. I can't imagine having to grow up in a society where even my best attempts at blending in weren't convincing enough to form a community around me.
eliza & moriah
Chapter four made me think of Ms. Sibley's seventh grade pre-algebra class.
Trevor Noah teaches us a great deal about the importance of language. It is his means of survival. He avoids getting mugged by speaking Zulu. He is able to find solidarity with people simply by knowing how to speak to them. This is something that I feel like we as English-speaking Americans take for granted most of the time. Wherever we go in the world, we expect to be able to communicate with people at least a little bit. But Noah has to really apply himself to blend in anywhere. Being a ployglot is his means of survival, and that is so incredible to me in so many ways. But at the same time, it seems like being a self-proclaimed chameleon would make it difficult to find any sense of personal identity. Maybe this is part of why Noah acts out so much in the school setting. His natural creativity and curiosity are likely much harder to manage when coupled with an inability to find true community with any group of peers. Noah can speak any language, but it doesn't change his genetics. I can't imagine having to grow up in a society where even my best attempts at blending in weren't convincing enough to form a community around me.
eliza & moriah
Comments