If words didn’t come naturally
story by Regina Garcia Cano :: photos by Tessa Bargainnier
Alsakran holds a heart keychain and box his younger sister Fedda gave to him before he came here. “It means everything to me,” he says. “It gives me comfort. It takes all the stress away. I hold the heart with my keys so it’s always close to me.”
Like many young adults, Jamal Alsakran owns all seasons of the comedy show “Friends” on DVD. Yet, unlike those who simply watch the series for a hearty laugh, Alsakran does it with the underlying purpose of improving his English vocabulary.
True communication requires language proficiency. Whether for everyday interaction, such as ordering food at a restaurant, or for specific situations, such as those presented in a learning environment, listening, speaking, reading and writing abilities are crucial. Yet, what happens to those who stuggle in one or all of these skills?
More than 1,000 international students are enrolled at Kent State this semester. Most of these students met the university’s required score for the Test of English as a Foreign Language, which is an assessment of a person’s ability to communicate in English in a college environment. Still, some of them struggle to convey their ideas in a language that is not their native tongue.
Japanese student Ajisa Fukudenji says she began to learn English at age 13. Years of English lessons and a “good” TOEFL score gave her the confidence to move to the United States to pursue a master’s degree in counseling. Her trust in herself, however, quickly faded when she was unable to communicate effectively in her American life.
“Oh, wow, my English is very bad,” Fukudenji repeated several times as she was shocked by not being able to express her opinions when she first moved to Kent. “I was afraid of making a mistake.”
During a counseling class in her first semester, Fukudenji suddenly found herself alone in the middle of the classroom, while the rest of her classmates worked in teams. Unaware of what was happening, she stared at her classmates for a moment, hesitating to ask for help, hoping somebody would instruct her. Helpless and terrified, she turned around and asked the professor to repeat the instructions.
Fukudenji holds a Temari, a traditional Japanese handball made with strips of silk fabric. Temari was used as a toy for children about 400 years ago, but is now considered art. “My Temari was made by my aunt, so it is very meaningful to me,” Fukudenji says. “She wished me good luck and safeness in this country.”
Fukudenji partially attributes her fear of making errors in English to the way she learned the language in her home country. In Japan, she says English instructors place emphasis on grammar and written tests. Therefore, she learned technical English, not practical English. All Japanese students interested in pursuing an undergraduate degree in their home country must pass a language proficiency test.
Fukudenji adds that her fear of speaking out in classes or social events is also a matter of cultural difference.
“American people — it’s always ready to say opinions or tell something to others. But in my country, people put emphasis in community harmony, so you better not tell your opinion like always,” Fukudenji says. “You cannot insist in something. First you have to listen to others and shouldn’t be opinionated.”
From her experience as an instructor of English-as-a-second-language courses, Bernadette Mizicko Beler says Middle Eastern students tend to be more comfortable with their speaking abilities, while their reading and writing skills are weaker. On the contrary, Asian students, like Fukudenji, are proficient in reading and writing due to an emphasis on grammar in their countries’ educational systems.
Yet, Mizicko Beler says, across the board, international students struggle with listening, a difficulty students don’t expect.
And certainly, the struggle surprised Alsakran, a doctoral student in computer science.
“I was like totally lost when I first came two years ago,” Alsakran says. “I heard people, but it was not English to me. Every single word here, people pronounce it different from what I (was) used to. I couldn’t understand a word.”
A Jordan native, Alsakran began learning English at age 10. While most of the textbooks he used during his years as an undergraduate student were written in English, Alsakran admits he had only spoken English on one occasion outside a classroom before he moved to the United States: when he visited the U.S. Embassy to ask for his student visa.
Alsakran was not ready for a 24/7 English-speaking life. Alsakran says he constantly felt frustrated — and still does to a lesser degree — every time he was not able to convey a message the way he hoped. Describing himself as somebody who was praised for his classroom presentations whether as a student or as a professor in Jordan, Alsakran says he feels anything but satisfied with some of his educational experiences in America.
Alsakran still remembers the first time he had to deliver a presentation to a class and how it ended up with “not-so-good” results.
“I hate myself sometimes,” he says. “After two years, I still don’t have the guts to tell people that I want to teach, even though I want to teach. Deep inside, I just love teaching. This semester, I just do grading. But it is not fun; it is not what I want to do. I want to teach.”
Mizicko Beler says she encourages international students to interact with native speakers and suggests that they not rely exclusively on other foreign students with whom they may share a native language. She says international students should seek conversation partners and get involved in extracurricular activities, whether by joining a club or simply visiting the Student Recreation and Wellness Center.
Alsakran watches TV and concentrates on dialogues. Jotting down and memorizing new words and browsing Web sites designed for English proficiency improvement are all ways he tries to pursue his goal to teach at a university. But even today, he doesn’t know if he’ll ever master the English language enough to feel comfortable asking for a teaching position.
Fukudenji, now in her second year of living in the United States, says she has slowly regained her confidence and isn’t afraid of raising her hand in class to ask a question. It doesn’t bother her to ask people to repeat themselves. She says she found courage the day she confronted herself with the desperate decision of either leaving America without completing her degree or stepping up.
Alsakran and Fukudenji still haven’t decided whether their temporary lives in America will become permanent.