Jack Spiegelman Custom Oil on Canvas Family Portraits

My teacher was Señorita Nillson. Señorita Nillson was from Argentina. She was blonde, built, bubbly. She had energy to burn. Her first words were these: Learning a language is like learning a musical instrument. It is exactly the same—lo mismo. You are using your mouth the way a pianist or guitar player uses their fingers—to produce patterns of sound that have pitch, dynamics, rythym, phrasing. How these sounds expel themselves from your mouth—either as gibberish or articulate speech—depends on one thing and that only: practice. The musician must play, play, play. The language student must speak, speak, speak. There is no other way.

It is important not to think. Thinking occurs in English. You must think in Spanish. The only way to do this is to start talking.

You have to throw it out there. I repeat: throw it out there. Throw it out there, throw it out there, throw it out there. Humiliate yourself. There is no way to avoid this. It's how you learn. But let me say something: it's like bowling. No matter how bad you are there is somebody worse.

Señorita Nillson favored the sink or swim method. This took the form of little skits we were called upon to perform—including the classic restaurant scene in which a meal is ordered
and there is a problema with the food.

It was brutal.

But it was like she said: there is always somebody worse.

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