Wanting to know lots of languages has diluted my ability to get better

I have a problem that a lot of people don't face because they're usually focused on one thing or just a few things, or they're boring and don't do much other than what they need to. My problem is language-oriented, which is apt for this blog, since the theme is supposed to be language, and is the reason why it was created (though I ended up writing about other topics, which caused me to get dropped from lists and publicly questioned, though this was before social media exploded).

My problem is that I want to understand everything I read or see, and I can't. For instance, I started studying Swedish after I saw shows and movies and listened to lots of happy, shallow Swedish dance music that was created for the world stage. I wanted to find out more about the artists and actors, so I searched online for information. The best was in Swedish, so I attempted to study it, and barely succeeded. I cannot converse and barely understand anyone. It's frustrating. Then I tried reading Swedish sites, learned tips, etc., but I barely made any progress.

I also love French and really just want to read anything in it and try to understand some shows, such as Maigret. I'm such a fan of Bruno Crémer that I ordered his memoir, Un Certain Jeune Homme, from the UK, and when I got it, I could barely understand it. So I put it to the side and after I took an online French course and learned about the imparfait tense, I could understand it better. But what about the news in French, and websites, and videos, and more? I still have trouble.

And then there's Spanish. I studied that a while ago and have been teaching mostly Spanish speakers English for several years, and while I don't need the language to teach, I'd like to understand what they're saying to each other. And I teach in an area where there are many Spanish-speaking stores, so I could easily practice it there. I also see Spanish speakers all around Chicago and would like to get involved. But that's a lot to learn to be able to converse.

Then there's Japanese, which is probably my "best" language, though it is very difficult to read and I still don't understand everything I see on TV, so I try to practice reading and listening often, though don't know enough to ace it.

And there's German and Portuguese and Italian, all which I've studied and was intense about, but nothing enough to put me in the "capable" category.

So I've been overwhelmed by opportunities and interest to learn those languages but am not brilliant enough, nor do I have a photogenic memory to remember all the vocabulary and grammar and meaning of it all. My mind is struggling between desire to do it all and frustration because I'm not a super-language-human. I've met some people who know a few languages, and obviously I'm envious that they have that ability. What's odd is that people think I'm good at language, but I think it's because they haven't attempted to learn anything, other than what was required in school.

Then an ESL student told the class about a video she saw about learning languages (pasted below).

Chris Lonsdale says people can learn any language in six months. He said he learned Mandarin that way, and at first I was skeptical, but I saw a video of him giving advice to Chinese people about learning a language, and he sounds fluent to me! He even has slides in Chinese!

He seems so confident and effectively communicative. Even though I have to watch his video again to really learn the concepts (though I briefly wrote some down), one thing I realized is that I have to think about *why* I want to learn those languages, and zero in on that aspect, because I will never be totally fluent and capable in any language, other than English. He says that it's important to make language learning relevant, and since I'm not planning on living abroad again, I don't need those languages for survival, so that's not my motivation. In order to make a language relevant to me and to thus have motivation, I need to make it relate to my personal goals.

I hadn't thought about my language goals. I just wanted to somehow absorb it and proceed like a blob and have a kind of download into my brain. That is not possible, unless I'm a Borg or some character in a sci-fi movie. I can't approach language learning like a blob and assume I'll learn through osmosis or mere exposure. I need to figure out why I'm doing it.

Right now, here are some vague goals, which need to be refined and pursued more intensely:

Swedish: I want to read about the actors and singers in Swedish. And I want to go to Sweden, though they speak English and there's not a lot of pressure to be perfect. Spanish: I want to talk with people in Chicago. French: I want to be able to read the book I bought. And I want to go to France, where I'll have to be able to use it. Portuguese: I want to be able to read about Brazil. I've been there before and did okay, but I've forgotten it all.

Japanese and German are more general, because I want to be able to know them well enough to use them in those countries. So if I narrow down my goal, I want to learn them well enough to be able to talk with people and function on a trip there.

Maybe I'll feel more motivated as I define my goals more. I would much rather be super-smart and dive right in, understanding everything to be able to fully function in all kinds of languages, but that's impossible.


People who have high-level jobs should be able to write

I recently got a shocking email: it was actually well-written, had no grammatical errors, and seemed literate, as the person chose to write complex sentences that utilized correct punctuation as well. This is not an isolated incident, because I've gotten emails over the years from various high-level people who know how to write, or who have the resources to check their writing. But the recent email stood out because before that, people at the same workplace who are supposedly well-educated (they have the degrees to claim authority) would consistently send out emails full of run-ons, comma splices, incorrect verb use, and other issues that resembled emails from people who either lack formal education or are just learning how to write. To verify my opinion and to avoid being considered as too judgmental or insensitive, I showed a professional writer one such email from a highly paid, highly placed individual, and the pro agreed: the email was poorly written and lacked the essentials that anyone who's legitimately gone through high school should know.

A while ago, I worked for someone who was very smart and highly educated, but because English was not their first language, they had some issues with their writing. But they did the right thing: they made sure their writing was checked before being sent out, which I'm guessing helped them to keep their high-level job for several years, make good money, and even get a promotion. It probably also helped their reputation because other people could see that not only did they have the degrees, but they could professionally express themself (not a word, but I don't want to be specific about gender or other info) in a way that matched their prominent job.

If people have the money, they should hire people to fix their writing, even simple emails, even if it's in a ghost-writing capacity. And if people are working in education, they should definitely be able to write. It is ridiculous that students are told to attain skills, but the supervisors of those institutions cannot create coherent sentences. And it's especially appalling when administrators are hired who don't have the sense or capacity to communicate correctly.

In some institutions, high-level employees may be super-strong in science and engineering but weak in the written word. They bring in millions of dollars and lead development of innovative products. Their weak writing shouldn't bar them from such opportunities, but they should make sure they get help.

And I'm not talking about typos. Sometimes we spell something wrong or add an extra comma where there shouldn't be one. Those are minor, human mistakes. What I'm talking about is obvious literary negligence that belies a person's high rank, and the person doesn't care enough to recognize the deficiency or is too cheap or arrogant to get someone to help.