Beginning With Words
For weeks now, my two-year-old has had the obnoxious habit of repeating himself over and over. At first I continued to answer him patiently – the same answer ten times in a row.
Next I resorted to ignoring him; but the questioning went on. Finally, I threatened to spank him if he kept asking the same question after he had received the answer. Then one day, he asked me a question that did not need an answer - and then asked it again in a different way. “I see no stars up there, Mom?” “Mom, do I see no stars up there?”
A light went on in my brain. I began to recall my own experiences with language learning in Papua New Guinea. Could my two-year-old possibly be cognizant enough to be learning his first language in such a structured manner? So, for the first time, instead of answering his question, “I don’t know whether you see any stars or not, Joe,” I repeated his phrase back to him with the proper grammar. “I don’t see any stars up there, Mom.” He looked at me with absolute delight and jumped up and down yelling, “I don’t see any stars up there, Mom!” The next few days were an intense learning session. Joseph’s ability to talk grew by leaps and bounds. He questioned me continually; and now - instead of answering what had appeared as dumb questions, I would carefully articulate the grammar and phonetics of a whole exchange for him. He repeated me until he could say it all properly without coaching. Joe: “You got to wash a dishes, Mom?” Mom: “Do you need to wash the dishes, Mom?” Joe: “Do you need to wash the dishes, Mom?” Mom: “Yes, Joseph, I need to wash the dishes. Would you like to help me?” Joe: “Like to help me?” Mom: “I want to help you, Mom.” Joe: “I want to help you, Mom.” His affection for me became hilariously dear. We were close before, but now we had become best buddies in just a few hours. I was suddenly the only person in the world who could tell him exactly what he wanted to know. My curiosity was aroused; did all toddlers face this problem? I began to listen in Wal-mart and the bank when I went to town. What I heard was different levels of understanding. Some children seemed to be under the impression that there wasn’t necessarily a correct way to speak. Perhaps because the adults in their lives simply repeat their baby-talk back to them, thinking it cute. Other children had obviously discovered the truth and were in various stages of learning with their oblivious teachers. I can sympathize with these kids in their efforts to learn a language from a clueless adult.
I spent two years among the Kumboi people of Papua New Guinea. Most of that time was spent on linguistics and translation. I squatted for hours in the smoke filled cook-house in the center of our village practicing the words I learned and trying to pick up new ones. The villagers loved to hear me talk. It amused them to hear a grown person falter and slur words just like their toddlers. I encountered the same problem Joseph often does when my Kumboi friends failed to repeat the words I said correctly. Their first response was to say them the same poor way I had because it was funny.
