This is part of an ongoing special series when 1-2 Korean learners/bloggers each week are invited to share their Korean learning journey! It will be nice if you can leave a comment after reading! ^^ To participate in the series, check out this post.
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About the guest author:
Charles Montgomery is an English professor in Dongguk University in Seoul. I had the pleasure of meeting him (although for a short while) when I was in Korea! Check out his site and his twitter!
Korean Modern Literature in Translation
Twitter @KTLit
One of the remarkable things about Shanna is that she is using (well, til last
semester) primarily self-study to learn Korean. I, on the other hand, am the living
example of how self-study can be a failure. Which is odd, because in most other
arenas, I am a complete self-studier. When I was a webmaster I learned to code
all alone in my office. When it came to literature, I just sat in my office, coffee
shops, bars and at home, and read. But with language? I am not a self-studier.
I came to Korea over three years ago, and my Korean is still shameful. Prior to
leaving I took a few months of Korean at a hagwon in Sunnyvale California, but
its classes were inconveniently scheduled, and I had a more than full time job. So
when I got to Korea, I could say ‘hello’ and ‘thank you’ and that was about it.
I did quickly learn to say “Cass 오백 씨씨 주세요!” but that was about it. So, I
bought a Korean textbook and brought it to my little apartment. I opened it
once, diligently worked away at the first chapter, memorized about 15 words,
then tossed the book on my desk until “the next time.”
The next time was about 10 days later, I could remember none of the vocabulary
I had ‘memorized,’ and the work I had done looked like hieroglyphics. So, I
plunged in once more, and with three phrases memorized (“nice to meet you for
the first time”/ 만나서 반갑습니다 and “goodbye” in two forms depending on
who was departing 안녕히 계세요/ 안녕히 가세요). I then marched out into the
world and tried to practice my exciting new knowledge.
Alas, this turned out to be harder than I thought. As it turned out, I worked
primarily with English speakers (except in the classroom) and even when I met
Koreans, it was incredibly artificial to try to force my phrases into conversation.
I mean, how often did I really meet someone for the first time? So I might learn
a few phrases, but I could rarely use them, practice pronunciation, or learn what
the responses to them might be.
I was also in Daejeon, which I will just say, trying to be polite, is not that
cosmopolitan, and the natives seemed to have no interest at all in my cruddy
Korean. So, I buckled down to reading translated Korean literature, which
became my little window on the culture (did I mention my blog at www.ktlit.com
is all about modern Korean literature? Well, now I have.^^)
Next year, I moved to Seoul and repeated the textbook/desk/real-world cycle
about three times.
Even when I did sit down with the textbook, I found that I was easily dis— hey,
did you know that you can find streaming NFL games on the internet? And I
wonder what my friend Martin is doing right now? Hmmm… do I want a snack? -
– tracted.
And when I went out to practice my Korean, I ran into several problems. The first
was that I still only had this list of artificial phrases to use, and they were rarely
relevant to events in life. I could scarcely use them in real situations. The second
problem was where I worked, in the English Interpretation and Translation Department at Dongguk University. The professors and students I worked with
were all effusive in offers to help me, but their English was simply too good for
this to work out. Everyone in my division is an excellent English speaker and
when my Korean faltered, they would just code-switch and, bang(!), we’d be back
in English.
As it turned out, cabbies and restaurants DID want to engage me (the lure of easy
돈!) so like many expats, I did self-learn taxi-Korean and some restaurant-
Korean.
On occasion I took a tutor, but fitting them into my schedule was difficult and
they were expensive. In addition, many of them didn’t really seem to have taught
before, and this meant a lot of time was wasted.
I met Steve Revere, whose Korean is brilliant, and he gave me copies of his
two “how to learn Korean” books. I repeated the textbook/desk/real-world cycle
yet again. And got distracted. And got busy in the translation area. And traveled.
And drank. And generally just passed my Korean textbooks as I whisked myself
out the door.
I also looked at the many resources on the internet, but as my interest in one
waned I would just skip to another, and I couldn’t settle down with any one (or
two, or three, or four…..) site and make any progress.
I made one abortive attempt at doing Korean pen-pal with my best friend back
in the States (he’s Korean by birth, and bilingual), but as soon as he returned my
first email, I just let it sit there, with other emails to answer, and in a language
I’m OK at.
As it turns out, I am not a self-learner. The mighty intarwebs (via Wikipedia) says
self-learners have these characteristics.
1. self-observation (monitoring one’s activities);
2. self-judgment (self-evaluation of one’s performance) and
3. self-reactions (reactions to performance outcomes).
To me that first one is all about discipline… watching what you do and
scheduling what you do. Let’s just say that I suck at that.
The second one is also problematic for me. Language-learning takes time, and
I’m a short-attention-span-theater person. If I study something and don’t see
immediate progress? I move to something else that has an immediate payoff, like
a popsicle, beer, or watching downloaded episodes of Trailer Park Boys. So in the
short term I judged progress (which is the improper scale) as insufficient, and
lost the will to continue.
The reaction? I’ve described it above: on to pursuits with quicker results; putting down the textbooks.
Sure, in three years I did learn some things, but as last semester ended I re-
indulged in step 2, and realized that my silly expectations and lack of discipline
had conspired to pretty much halt me in my tracks.
Twice, I had entered formal classes in Korean, and in the three weeks that I had
stuck with that (Yeah, I know, lame), I had achieved most of my progress. My
university did not have me teach a winter-session class this break, and that gave
me the opportunity I had been evading. As I type this I am halfway through
my first month of formal classes. That is, the first month of formal classes that I
will complete. The formal classes impose upon me the discipline I lack, and the
instructor’s responses are based on rational calculation of how anyone would be
doing two weeks in. If she says I’m doing well, I can ignore the evidence of my
lying eyes.^^ This means that steps 1 and 2 of the “self-learning” characteristics
are (thankfully) being imposed on me.
In that two weeks I have learned more Korean language (as opposed to
vocabulary, a surprising amount of which it turns out I have picked up along
the way) than I did in the previous three years combined. Even better? I’m
enthusiastic about the process and intend to take two classes next month. In the
Spring semester my schedule is a blessing – I will be able to continue my lessons
if I choose to.
For the moment, I choose to!
So, while I give mad props to the folks like Ms. Tan, who can buckle down and
teach themselves, I have to say that it is bricks and mortar for me.
