Yasmeen's Language Auto
Yasmeen Brownlee's Language Autobiography
Autobiography of my life
Well in my family I don’t have any other languages that I speak at home. I may hear an Islamic greeting from some of my relatives though I did really understand until now what it had meant. Because of my limited array of languages that I have spoken in my life, I will settled on moments of uncertainty of a language such as Spanish from a Spanish speaking country. Including some of my experiences in Italy and France. I grew up in life learning to speak English I didn’t really acquire much of a noticeable language change until the 2-4 grade I don’t quite remember what grade but there was a Spanish course at my elementary school that started early and ended early. All I really remember is watching muzzy without subtitles and being on the carpet singing and dancing along to interactive Spanish music. I also remember sitting in rows and columns facing the teacher at all times and the hand signals to go to the bathroom. That was what my Spanish was while I was younger. I feel as though when I was younger my teacher should have taken the advantage of teaching us more advanced Spanish because it would be easier for us to learn. Watching muzzy without the provided information of what was said was visual representation of Spanish in action, even though she used it to teach us. It didn’t help because we ignore what’s being said and is not in the language that you fluently speak or even understand, because of that to some it became a silent cartoon, with self-righteous humor. When I was in 7th grade about to be in eighth grade. I took a Chinese class that I wasn’t very fond of near the end of the class. One of the things was that it was a classroom full of fifth graders and I was the oldest. My best friend was in the program but she was learning a different language. I learned a limited amount Chinese though most of the time I was at an art class for senior citizens. Which was amusing but we can get into that another time. All my life I have lived with people only spoke English now that I think about it I learned some Swahili when I was in pre-school though I don’t currently remember any of it. Through out my life I have many if not all Muslim relatives the greeting is As-Salamu Alaykum, and the response would be Alaykum As-Salam. I never really understood the actually meaning of the word I just remember it being either hello, or how are you? the response being hi, fine thank you. But I didn’t find out until recently that it had the same meaning of what I thought but it translated into something completely different. I was going to learn how to speak and write in Arabic but no one ever got around to it.
The nerve wrecking decision is going to happen as soon as I step off of this bus. That’s fine I don't have to step off right? Wrong,
I’m biting my nails a shivering with the nervous anticipation for the worst. I'd get pair with someone I didn't know well. It seemed everyone one was following the same code walk slowly to the area of the meeting and the crowd of native families one of which for be your temporary parents. I was hoping that I got paired with two of my best friends on the trip Katie Kozak and Zoe Stiles. Little did I know I wouldn't get exactly what I wanted, but isn't that what we find out about everyday of our lives? I took the opportunity of the awkward silence to scope out the people that could be my future foster family. My eyes were caught on the woman holding a dog. I secretly wished that I went with them. The image of the lady who assigned the kids to there families is now blurry and completely obscured from my memory. I don't even remember put a person to the voice that called out the names of the families and students. We were each handed pamphlets of our families though I didn't know which person belonged to each name I anticipated watch the other get picked first so that I could see who they went with. Kerry, kale, Chelsea. A Wave of comfort washed over me but didn't linger as I felt the cold tremor and flutter of butterflies as I shivered at the sound of my name. My name I was called second shock hit me but not for long as I heard one of my best friends name Zoe stiles. Her name warmed the frozen shock but it didn't go away. Mariana Stuve another warm sensation, I knew them both, and closely at that. The name of our father I don't remember what it was but I remember what he looked like a short man with grey hair with a really dark tan? A t-shirt and khaki's. I was disappointment that I didn't get the family with the dog, yet the anticipation overrode that sense.
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