For a few weeks, I kept myself busy prepping for the pilot English Conversational Class at Simple Steps, the non-profit organization where I volunteer as an editor. I was excited yet nervous. The program starts later this evening, and I’ve only been able to introduce myself on Slack today. As I wrote, I came to understand better where my fear was coming from. I wanted to share what I wrote with the people who read my blog.
Flashback:
I was thirteen, standing in the middle of a hallway lined with lockers. The hallway was bustling with people, but they all seemed busy going somewhere. I was lost. I did not know what to do nor where to go for my next class. No one seemed to notice me, a new Korean girl at school. Even if they did, I don’t know how much help they could have given me. I did not know what to say.
My English was so poor that the principal had placed me in seventh grade against my parents’ wishes. I could not argue with the decision. Many of the sentences I had practiced in English classes back in Korea were far from helpful. After all, can you imagine any real-life situation where a person would say, “I am a boy. You are a girl.” and such?
By the end of the semester, I was doing very well at school. The school agreed to let me skip the rest of seventh grade and moved me to eighth grade. I spent the next three years at the American Community School in Jordan and returned to Korea. There I finished school, worked as a radio producer, and studied translation at graduate school.
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Present day:
I am a translator. I have lived in the United States for about a decade. You may find it hard to believe, but even with my years of experience as a translator, I sometimes feel as terrified as you, if not more, when I speak or write in English. To this day, my thirteen-year-old self haunts me sometimes.
Some say my English is “perfect,” but I know it’s not. Speaking and writing in English (and translating English into Korean or vice versa) still require much more time and effort than I would like to admit. It doesn’t help that I’m a (recovering) perfectionist. I still kick myself (이불킥) for making mistakes. But at the same time, I realize that even native speakers are not “perfect.” The only difference is that they have the luxury of not worrying about their mistakes as much as non-native speakers. (Think of the mistakes that you make in Korean. Do you fuss over every single mistake you make?)
I am unsure what each of you expected from this class or the instructors. I know that sometimes Koreans tend to be hung up with “native speakers” making the best tutors, so I wanted to be upfront with you. Again, English is not my first language (in fact, I first learned the alphabet in French). Please bear with me. I will try my best, but I may not have all the answers on the top of my head and probably will make mistakes.
Perhaps this was one of the reasons why I might have dreaded this course. I was afraid that people would judge me and that I wasn’t “good enough” to teach and lead this class. (As you can see, I suffer from impostor syndrome as well). But like many other things in life, in language as well, you have to step out of your comfort zone and “just do it.” So, please, celebrate your mistakes because that’s how you learn. I plan to do the same. I hope we all grow from this class.