Most of my readers know that we have been teaching Claire three languages since she was born. And at this point, at 16 months of age, she understands Cantonese Chinese the best, and more than half the words she speaks are Cantonese.

I have no problem with this. I believe that Chinese — regardless of the dialect — is one of the most difficult languages to learn, and that our children having a good foundation in Chinese will not only help them more easily learn additional languages in the future (because you use both hemispheres of the brain with Chinese and other tonal languages), it may also be benficial if they choose to study music.

I actually took two semesters of Mandarin Chinese in college, but I only recall a few phrases here and there.  However, I still remember my very first class clearly, when my professor showed us how, by saying “ma” in different tones, you can ask, “Did mother scold the horse?”

媽駡馬嗎?
(mā mà mă ma?)

Despite my musical training, I still have difficulty differentiating between the different tonal sounds in the Chinese language. And while Mandarin only has 4 tones, Cantonese has between 6 and 9. The exact number depends on whom you ask, which makes it that much more difficult in this blogger’s opinion.

Perhaps it is easier to learn music if a tonal language is your first language, than vice-versa? That, or I am seeking justification for my difficulty in understanding Chinese. (But then again, I have always been horrible with languages in general.)

Anyway, the real reason for this post is because I recently came across a nifty scan from a Chinese instructional book which illustrates just how difficult Chinese can be:

(image source)

And, just in case anyone is curious, the name of the poem is “Lion-Eating Poet in the Stone Den” by Zhao Yuanren. According to Redditor robo_t:

The poem was written in the early 20th century as both an: 1. argument against the romanization of classical Chinese 2. argument for the romanization of modern vernacular Chinese

Writing out classical Chinese often yields results like “shi shi shi shi shi shi shi”, thus making it completely uncomprehensible. A few literary movements in the early twentieth century moved Chinese away from using a single syllable per word to having compound words. This language development can actually be credited with helping modernize China and closing the gap between the literary elites and the masses.

Example: Classical – 睡 – shui – to sleep Modern – 睡觉 – shui jiao – to sleep

Adding a second character clarifies the meaning by adding a verb-noun phrase!

Apparently, most Chinese people would only understand this poem if they read it, not if they heard it.

Atypical of Asian parents, mine weren’t too strict about grades growing up. In fact, they bribed us — we would get $20 for every A on our report card! (And yes, even A-‘s counted.) So whenever I got straight A‘s, my wallet would be fuller by $120. Not bad at all when you’re a kid.

What about you? Did your parents offer any enticements for good grades?

Via 9GAG.

When I was in 3rd grade, I became the first person in my class to memorize all the states and their capitals in alphabetical order. I was also the first to correctly identify each state on a map of the United States.

Sadly, that was the peak of my geographical knowledge.

I can now only correctly identify perhaps half of the states on a U.S. map. (I imagine I will have a lot of catching-up to do before my kids start school. After all, we can’t have a mommy who knows less than her grade-school aged children, can we? ) And it is always those pesky middle states that give me the most trouble…

Fortunately for me, today I stumbled upon something that will help me forever remember where Kentucky is on the map:

In related news, now my 38-weeks-pregnant self is majorly craving KFC.

Via Reddit.

On the first day of fifth grade, Mr. Jay Cutler introduced himself as our English teacher for the rest of the school year.

He then promised us that he would walk across the classroom on his hands whenever the entire class completed their homework.

“You may think I’m lying, but I’m not,” he told us. He then added with a wink, “The only question is…do I really know how to walk on my hands, or will I waste an entire class trying to walk across the classroom on my hands?”

(He really did know how to walk on his hands. Unfortunately, our class only witnessed the event twice during the school year.  )

Mr. Cutler was young — probably in his late twenties at the time — and hip. He was also cool. His hair was unkempt, his goatee reminiscent of Ed Norton, and while he always always wore a tie, he kept the top button of his shirt undone and his tie knot precariously hanging just beneath.

Many of my classmates, myself included, had schoolgirl crushes on him. But we kept ourselves at a safe distance, intimidated by the picture of his gorgeous wife that was prominently displayed on his desk. (And none of us could picture him with anyone but a beautiful, intelligent, and charming woman.)

It was not only his demeanor and looks that made Mr. Cutler a favorite among students. He was a jokester and prankster, but knew when to take things seriously. He made THE best analogies and examples — often humorous ones — that helped even the dullest of us understand (then) mind-boggling concepts such as irony, metaphors, and conflicts.

He even created an alter ego based on his favorite fruit, the grape, and used him quite often in all his examples. Once, when a classmate brought in the then-popular board game The Grape Escape, he (pretend) angrily told us that he would write a complaint letter to Parker Brothers for cruelty to grapes. (And the following week, as he gave a lesson on how to properly write a business letter, he used that letter as an example.  )

I still often wonder what had become of Mr. Cutler. Did he continue teaching elementary-level English? Did he win any teaching awards? Does he know how much of a positive impact he had on the hundreds of students who were lucky enough to have him as a teacher?

I have tried a few times to look him up, but his common name makes this a difficult task.

What I do know is that while I have trouble recalling the names of the majority of my high school teachers — heck, I can hardly remember my college professors either — and many of my lessons with them remain foggy, I still remember minute details about my favorite teacher and his teachings, almost twenty years later.

Good teachers provide knowledge that stays with us for the rest of our lives. Great teachers inspire us to learn, and to cultivate what we have learned. And Mr. Cutler was exactly that: a great teacher.

Do you have a favorite teacher who has made a memorable impact on your life? Someone whom you still look back on with fond memories and often wonder what has become of him/her?

Earlier today, I read about Egalia, a Swedish preschool that aims to break down gender stereotypes.

At this taxpayer-funded preschool located in the liberal Sodermalm district of Stockholm, staff avoid using pronouns such as “him” or “her” and address the 33 children as “friends” rather than boys and girls. Every little detail — from the color and placement of toys to the selection of literature (which mostly consists of books dealing with homosexual couples, single parents or adopted children) — has been carefully planned to ensure that the children do not fall into gender stereotypes from a young age.

I couldn’t help but be reminded of the Canadian parents who are hiding the gender of their baby. Upon reading that article, I remember asking J if he would mind if Claire plays with toy guns, swords, robots, and cars — traditionally all toys that are associated with boys — and he replied no.

But then I asked him, “What if we have a boy and he wants to play with Barbies? And wants to wear tutus and tiaras and makeup? Would you let him?”

He said that he probably will not past a certain age. And I found myself agreeing with him. But we couldn’t exactly pinpoint why. It is not because we believe a boy playing with traditionally feminine toys or dressing in traditionally feminine colors or pieces will turn him gay or into a transsexual. Nor is it because we believe these things will make a boy “sissy.” The only theory that seemed plausible was our society and culture’s influence on our views on gender roles.

It’s funny, because neither of us would have a problem with our boy playing with a kitchen set. Where would we draw the line?

And why is it more socially acceptable for girls to play with traditionally boy toys, but not the other way around?

One thing I do know is that we probably wouldn’t want our kids enrolled in a school like Egalia, and we both agree that the Canadian couple who are raising their baby to be genderless is treading on dangerous grounds, i.e. conducting a social experiment on their own child. J and I both believe that men and women are different for a reason, and that different gender roles are not problematic as long as they are equally valued. For example, J’s job at his company is equally important to our family as my job as a mother.

What do you think of the idea of a genderless preschool, or raising your children to be genderless?

Do you, or would you allow your boy(s) to play with dolls, wear dresses and makeup?