This is not Michelle
Being on the cusp of turning 44 and trying to learn a new language has made me question my sanity. Being in school, again, I remember wishing I could do better, realizing I never understood what I thought I did and ultimately being disappointed in myself. My desire to do well was constantly chased with the overwhelming possibility I never would.
For me, school was a place to be social, learn my love of singing and fight with my anxiety for the first two weeks of every school year.
I excelled at English and failed math more times than I would care to admit. Without having the discipline to focus on the subjects I didn’t enjoy, I consequently failed two classes that I needed to graduate. On graduation day, I was allowed to walk across the stage and receive a certificate stating that I completed Grade 12, as opposed to having graduated from it.
Now, I am choosing to be a student again.
While I have not entered into any formal education, I am learning Haitian Creole. In 2010, my daughter Nathalia came home from Haiti at 3.5 months old. She only knew baby formula, diapers and smiling faces. She wasn’t in Haiti long enough to learn her country’s language.
For us, language was and still is a barrier in Haiti. All of us still need an interpreter to communicate. So, a few years ago, I decided that one day I would learn Creole. My goal was to eventually teach it to my daughter, too. When she traveled back to Haiti, she could comprehend daily conversations and general culture.
Now that I have started learning, I’m acutely aware that I have been out of school for many years. My understanding of grammar and what I once excelled at has been lost. Adjectives, verbs, sentence structure, modifiers, and contractions strike fear in me the way math did. I look at my lists of vocabulary words and recognizing them makes me feel smart. But two pages later, I am pretty confident I’ve forgotten everything I just reviewed. My former school insecurities creep in and constantly make me question what I am doing.
But, I am a mother who wants to learn. I keep reminding myself I am choosing to do this. It is exhausting to be battling my negative self and wanting to push through and prove “me” wrong.
I try to imagine my sense of accomplishment, knowing I didn’t give up. I would like to be an example and a cultural resource for my daughter.
When I read something in Creole and understand it, it proves I am capable of retaining knowledge. I am thankful for a teacher who is patient, doesn’t get tired of repeating herself and has a great sense of humor.
At 43, I am seeing that it is possible to turn over a new leaf and try something new. Being a mother doesn’t stop our need to grow and change.
On the flipside, I also have found that I can immediately forget something I have just read, and that coffee is just as necessary as the eraser I depend heavily on.