Friday 29 April 2011

April 29th: What makes the world go round?

Sorry guys, but for this one, you're going to have to dig out the inner language lover in you. Some of you might have to dig a little deeper than others, but trust me, you've all got one languishing somewhere.

Which is in no way like somebody telling me that I have a maths lover hovering in the deepest depths of my subconscious. Because I don't. Never have, never will. But there is no way that it's possible not to adore language, not when you think about it. There is no way you can't find it amazing. Go, now, stop reading this and go and stand in front of the mirror and fix your eyes upon your lips and say something. Watch your lips. Feel your tongue. See and hear and feel how you speak, how you make sounds, how you form language. This is how we, as human beings and as any other animal, communicate. This is what makes the world go round.

My mum always tells me that maths is what makes the world go round. Apparently maths is the most important thing in the world. But how can that be possible? Imagine a world without letters. A world without sound. Because English isn't just about comprehension and Shakespeare - oh hell no. For me, English is about language. Not just English, but any and all languages. I love the sound of it, the physical biology of it, the look of it; I love the art and the science of linguistics.

So imagine it: this hideous imaginary world. Imagine a silent life; no conversation, no music, no laughter. No Facebook, no Twitter, no Blogger. No Tumblr or Flickr or YouTube. No internet. No communication. No friendship, no family, no love.

And for those of you who are maths lovers: no numbers, because you can't have numbers without the words to describe them. The number 48, for example, is the number forty-eight. We have words for numbers but we don't have numbers for words. Money has words on it. 'Money' is a word. Money makes the world go round?

Think of it this way. When you go abroad to a foreign country, you find the currency hard to understand. Unless you're particularly familiar with it, you can't translate it into the amount an item would cost you back home. But you spend it anyway, and it's almost like it's not real money - you've got some fake cash burning a hole in your pocket and it doesn't matter what you spend it on because it's not going to make much of a difference to your funds. But when you get to the till with your carefully selected purchases and realize you can't so much as say hello or thank you to the person behind it... well, that's when it starts to get a little bit awkward. Even when you know what the correct word is, do you say it? Some of you will, I know, but most of you won't. I don't. It's hard to speak words of a foreign language to a native speaker, but when you do and they understand - that's one of the best feelings out there.

The phrase 'my favourite language is...' is not one you hear a lot. Does it sound nerdy? Probably. Oh well. I don't care. A lot of people don't often give this subject much thought, but those people who say 'Oh, everyone speaks English anyway, I don't need to learn another language' piss me off no end. For one thing, not everybody speaks English and secondly, why on Earth would you not want to acquire at least a slight interest in a second language? Let's face it: you do. You want to know more about the world and its languages. When they mention the odd 'bonjour' in TV shows, you know what it means. You've listened to the occasional song in a foreign language. You've done French or German or Spanish at school (and obviously other languages if you're not English, but I'm just writing about what I know here). We all have a basic understanding of the world's most well known languages (except Mandarin, because, well, it looks bloody difficult. Probably a brilliant language though) and because of that, we lose our spark at language learning.

Speaking from my own experience, I dropped German after two years and did five years of French instead, leaving school at the end of it with, yes, a GCSE in it, but also having lost all interest and charm in the language and now, less than two years later, I can barely string a sentence together. I gave up on German because the teacher and I had a hate-hate relationship, but I made the wrong decision. Now, when my brother asks me for help with his French homework, words come to me first in Danish, then in German and lastly in the language they were supposed to come in first. I've never formally studied Danish and I dropped German five years ago - surely there's something wrong with that?

I came out of French thinking I was crap at languages. Now I realize I was just crap at that one. What do you think would happen if we exposed children at a young age to more than just French or German or Spanish? What if we gave the underappreciated languages of the world their chance to shine? Danish, for example. Or Romanian. Greek. Icelandic. Dutch. Norwegian. Or... I don't know, the click languages of African tribes. Why do we have to stick to the ones that are widely spoken? What if we let children choose their own language, the one they find an affinity with - would we end up with a society of extremely linguistically adept children or simply a society of confused ones? Either way, it has to be better than forcing kids to attend lessons in languages they despise. That's not going to help anyone.

Not that I'm saying language lessons in schools are a bad idea - not by a long stretch. Some people are lucky enough to find an affinity with a language they can study alongside the maths and sciences of this world. All I'm saying is that we should take into account the languages we've been neglecting for so long. And who knows; maybe it would create a generation of children with better grammatical abilities... after all, having an interest in a foreign language greatly increases your interest in your own.

Molly x

Friday 15 April 2011

April 15th: Filling up the metaphorical glass

It occurred to me yesterday that life's good.

I know it's not often that I say that because I am one of those irritating people who tend to look on the negative side of life, but the thing about us glass-half-empty people is that we are surrounded by those who are the opposite; people who fill up the rest of the empty glass. And I'm lucky, because I've got so many people in my life who can do that, and it's so strange to think that without making a few stupid little decisions, I could never have met them. If my mum hadn't attended the same antenatal class as Becky's mum, we might not have met. If I hadn't gone to Langtree I'd never have met Zoe (and missed out on seven years of bus journeys! Shock horror!) or Charlotte, and if I'd chosen Abingdon college over Henley, as I was tempted to do for a while, I wouldn't know Lauren. And those are quite big decisions, but of course, without posting that comment on the What Is This Feeling instrumental on YouTube three years ago today, I'd never have met Cora - and that was a tiny decision and now look where it's led us.

I can't imagine life without any of these people, but as they all turn eighteen around me (with the exception of Charlotte, who at seventeen and three quarters (ahem, blud) is the baby of our group and Cora, who turned eighteen positively yonks ago) it really hit me that after June, I won't be seeing them every day anymore. I can't help wondering, much as I want to believe we'll stay friends, if we'll be those people who head off along their different paths with an exhilarated expression upon their faces, clutching their maps and calling, 'Don't forget to write!' - leaving the madly waving crowds behind them never to hear from them again.

It takes a lot for a friendship to be maintained over the internet, especially if you have to try. The friendship that Cora and I have is effortless, but then we've never really had any alternative. When you take a couple of friends who have built their relationship on face-to-face communication and plonk them on separate ends of the country, it's obviously going to be a lot harder to continue with the closeness of before. And I'm aware that if my friends and I grow apart, it'll partly be my fault, because I chose universities that are bloody miles away from here and I have every intention of going abroad to study for a while (so anyone who wants a free holiday better make a special effort to stay in touch).

Although I do love my friends here with all my heart, the kind of friendship I share with Cora is so much deeper and, in my opinion, harder to find, than any other relationship I have ever shared with anybody. I mean, when I met her she was just another person I met on the internet, just another person who shared a love of Wicked - but I had no idea that within a couple of months she would become the person who knows the most about me, the person to whom I tell everything, the person who can decode all the random cryptic comments I make. She's the one I want to tell when something good happens or when something bad happens, when something makes me laugh, when something makes me think... and yes, she is older than me. Yes, she lives almost a thousand miles away. Yes, I have only met her six times in person. But let me ask you this: who the fuck cares? Does that really mean 'internet friendships' can't be real?

And if you say no, they can't be - let me reintroduce my earlier point regarding 'real life' friends who have been separated. Does that mean that if you move away from someone, your relationship should be terminated, just like that? That whenever you talk to someone on the phone, you don't really know them because you can't see their face? That the friends your children make on holiday and spend all week with before going home and becoming penpals are freaks and perverts? Of course it doesn't. Cora and I prove that online friendships can be just as real as co-present friendships - more so, even. I mean, how many times have you been stabbed in the back by people you thought you could trust right here at home?

And, in this day and age, when life is becoming more and more dependent on technology, why shouldn't we utilise that to forge new relationships with other human beings? We have the whole world at our fingertips here, people. Rich pickings! To not acknowledge that would be like trying to grow your own potatoes on a highly infertile surface because you're too proud to nip to the supermarket next door. (Not to say that one shouldn't be wary of said freaks and perverts, because of course they do exist. But if you surf the internet in a state of panic, assuming everyone around you is one, consider where you are. Oh look - on the internet. Whoops.)

I'm looking at my cat sleeping on my bed right now, and she looks so peaceful, like nothing in the world really matters. I think she's got the right attitude. Nothing does really matter - if we make mistakes, we can correct them. If we go the wrong way, we can turn around. If we go wrong, we can go right again, just as long as we're surrounded by people who will let us. And who cares where they live?

Molly x