University: emancipation completed.
Soundtrack.
It's been a couple of months since I finished my degree and it is being quite difficult to look back and see how's it's been for me. Primaria, Secundaria, Bachiller... that was easy, because those times of my life are enough away so I can balanced them properly. My university period is too close yet. But I'll try.
I was not at all convinced during my first year as an English student. I was motivated, I wanted to learn, and was up of the effort I knew it would take. However, in comparison with my classmates, I felt I was not in the appropriate place. Las comparaciones son odiosas, people say, and useless, I would add, but I couldn't help comparing myself with that girl who read 10 books per month, or that one with native parents and perfect English. In Bachiller I was 'the one who's good at English'. At university I was just mediocre.
During the first semester, we did not have subjects in English except Lengua 1. The teacher was very good: young, motivating, understanding, knowledgeable, nice, approachable... only good words for her. She asked us actual useful work and her classes were interesting despite the dullness of the syllabus. She asked us once to write an essay on education and technology, and I worked hard to write my 600-researched-formal essay. Seriously, I worked a lot and I was pretty happy with what I did. When she handed us the essay corrected, however, I received one of the most harmful critiques I received during my degree.
The essay was shit, simply put. I read it now and I see it, but I couldn't see it at the moment. The teacher had a private talk with each of us to talk about the essay. I have her words burnt with fire in my memory:
"Estos errores son de secundaria. Se nota mucho que lo has hecho en una noche."
I, who spent three days writing that bloody essay, could only nod and laugh. "Sí, sí, en una noche. Jaja. Lo siento".
She added:
"¿Has pensado en apuntarte a clases de inglés en una academia?"
That question was devastating. I was studying a fucking degree in English, I was supposed to be good at English. Attending extra curricular classes of English was humiliating in my way of understanding things back then. I walked back home as if I was carrying the heaviest burden of Earth (as you see, melodrama is a constant in my life). After that, I seriously thought about studying another degree, drop out English Studies. And that possibility gained strength when the second semester started, and all the subjects were in English and they could all appreciate my linguistic mediocrity. By June, I even applied to study the Humanities degree at the UJI.
I don't really know why I stayed in my degree. I'm guessing stubbornness. I guess I promised myself that I will work hard, learn a lot, correct my mistakes and keep going, never losing sight of my aim, whatever that was. I followed my teacher's advice and enrolled in extra curricular classes of English, I came back to Ireland that summer, I forced myself to read and watch everything in English. I worked hard, and I think it worked.
However, by the time it worked and my English reached a good level, I was no longer interested in learning English. Not as I was before. I mentioned before that I was mainly interested in literature. It happened that the more I learned about Anglophone literature, the more I wanted to know. Speaking "good English" was no longer my main objective. Rather, I wanted to know a lot about literature in English. So I read. English proficiency came easy after that.
Also, I started to understand in my degree that the terms "good English" or "native-level English" are delusional. Those don't exist. Good English is the one you speak now, that's it; native level is unreachable, or should be, because I think one should never leave behind the languages one has been educated in, and I feel like speaking "native" English would imply just that. I cannot get rid of the traces of Spanish in my English speech, and I don't want to. It is part of my identity and I value it a lot. I don't mind if people considers I speak broken English because of my accent. Simply said, that people se puede ir a la mierda.
English is, however, part of my identity. I do like considering myself a filólogo inglés. My degree has given me knowledge on some of the subjects I feel most passionate about: art, culture, cinema, philosophy, history, literature, and English. All these has given me a way of understanding the reality, and it is truly a gift to be able to read the world with the filólogo inglés glasses. I feel fortunate and grateful: fortunate because I am aware me succeeding in English had a lot to do with my socio economic position; grateful to all my teachers and professors, even the bad ones, because all of them have taught me something. I look forward to the path yet to walk and I feel excitement - I have, still, a lot to learn.
I don't really know why I stayed in my degree. I'm guessing stubbornness. I guess I promised myself that I will work hard, learn a lot, correct my mistakes and keep going, never losing sight of my aim, whatever that was. I followed my teacher's advice and enrolled in extra curricular classes of English, I came back to Ireland that summer, I forced myself to read and watch everything in English. I worked hard, and I think it worked.
However, by the time it worked and my English reached a good level, I was no longer interested in learning English. Not as I was before. I mentioned before that I was mainly interested in literature. It happened that the more I learned about Anglophone literature, the more I wanted to know. Speaking "good English" was no longer my main objective. Rather, I wanted to know a lot about literature in English. So I read. English proficiency came easy after that.
Also, I started to understand in my degree that the terms "good English" or "native-level English" are delusional. Those don't exist. Good English is the one you speak now, that's it; native level is unreachable, or should be, because I think one should never leave behind the languages one has been educated in, and I feel like speaking "native" English would imply just that. I cannot get rid of the traces of Spanish in my English speech, and I don't want to. It is part of my identity and I value it a lot. I don't mind if people considers I speak broken English because of my accent. Simply said, that people se puede ir a la mierda.
English is, however, part of my identity. I do like considering myself a filólogo inglés. My degree has given me knowledge on some of the subjects I feel most passionate about: art, culture, cinema, philosophy, history, literature, and English. All these has given me a way of understanding the reality, and it is truly a gift to be able to read the world with the filólogo inglés glasses. I feel fortunate and grateful: fortunate because I am aware me succeeding in English had a lot to do with my socio economic position; grateful to all my teachers and professors, even the bad ones, because all of them have taught me something. I look forward to the path yet to walk and I feel excitement - I have, still, a lot to learn.
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