Showing posts with label proficiency. Show all posts

Week 19: Slash Fiction Set in the Star Trek Universe


The stats:

I have studied Yiddish for 134 days
I have studied Yiddish flashcards for a total of 66 hours
I have reviewed 1,849 individual flashcards
Correct learning: 67.55%
Correct young: 71.42%
Correct mature: 82.75%

I have reached a moment when my earliest flashcards, now three or more months old, have started appearing again. These were the first I learned and the first to become "mature" cards, pushed to the back of the deck in the Anki system, and then pushed further and further back until they disappeared for months. So I have forgotten then, until I see the answer, and then I immediately remember and kick myself for not remembering.

I suppose this is the process of learning, and one must learn to be sanguine about the fact that it involves forgetting and being reminded, and then forgetting and being reminded again, but it's a wee bit frustrating. However, sometimes I feel like all I do is complain about the frustrations of learning a language, and not the pleasures, so I will focus on pleasures for the rest of this post.

Firstly, it is getting easier to memorize sentences. This has been the hardest part of the process, because I will learn individual words quite well but get lost trying to remember how to assemble them. But a certain logic to the construction of sentences has started to click into place in my head. They aren't very sophisticated sentences, but sophisticated sentences are built out of simpler ones.

Similarly, the construction of individual words has started to make sense. When I started learning, words were just words, and I had to memorize the whole thing. But Yiddish, like English, makes use of a handful of prefixes and suffixes, and has a few ways it is made plural and past tense and future tense, and it's getting easy to recognize these. A single word can be made into other words through clever use of morphology, and it tends to sort of make sense. As an example, "look" in Yiddish is kukn, while "gaze" is ankukn, and "pay attention" is tzukukn zikh. It makes it a lot easier to learn a word when you discover it contains a word you already know.

I'm about two weeks away from having studied 2,000 individual flashcards. I have nothing more to say about that, except that it is extraordinarily satisfying to approach my second thousand.

I can just sort of name a lot of things in Yiddish. I know what most of the objects in my apartment are, I know what most things I wear are, I know the months, the days of the week, the seasons, how to count, different sorts of weather, etc. Weather words are tremendously funny, by the way, because they sound vaguely dirty. "Cloudy," as an example, is volcandik, which sounds like slash fiction set in the Star Trek universe. "Foggy" is neppledik. Humid is douchne.

I still experience these weird data dumps in my brain, where all of a sudden I'll just find myself cycling through words -- they just repeat themselves in my head, feeling like they are somehow locking into place. They are often words I have a hard time with -- for instance, I had the devil of a time with "gloves," which is hentchkes, and then, out of the blue, my brain just cycled through about 15 words, including that one, and now I just know it. I don't like to think of my brain as a computer that just has its own processes that it will do all at once without warning me, but obviously my brain doesn't care what I think of it and will just act like a computer when it feels like it. Weird though this may be, I'm happy to suddenly know words I have struggled with.

Week 16: The Hound


The stats:

I have studied Yiddish for 114 days
I have studied Yiddish flashcards for a total of 54 hours
I have reviewed 1,534 individual flashcards
Correct learning: 68.99%
Correct young: 73.92%
Correct mature: 82.48%

We adopted a dog last week, a tiny Shiba Inu/Chihuahua mix named Burt who is three years old, has only one eye, and is morbidly obese. He's also a sweetheart, and the process of integrating him into my life made my schedule a bit cattywampus this week, resulting in something that hasn't happened since I started this project: A day where I didn't manage to study all my flashcards. I think the old ones I missed just got pushed back to the next day, but I think I also missed a few new ones for that day.

Not a big deal, I suppose, but I want to talk a little about how much time it takes me to work on Yiddish per day, because I think the various online language programs don't give a good sense of what a time commitment it is. So here is some back of the envelope math:

  • Studying the flashcards takes anywhere between 30 to 50 minutes, usually about 40 minutes
  • Creating the flashcards takes anywhere from 30 minutes to an hour, and sometimes more on weekends
  • I also listed to a Audible version of a Yiddish language program, and that takes about 20 minutes per day. I do this during my morning commute, and generally do not do it on weekends
  • I read and try to translate every Forward headline that shows up on my Facebook page, which is usually about five minutes per headline, so maybe 10 to 15 minutes per day
  • And there are occasionally other activities related to this program. I listed to recordings of Yiddish songs fairly frequently. I listen to audio recordings of Yiddish stories maybe once per week. I read about the language every so often, and that can range from half an hour to a couple of hours at a stretch. This week I watched a Yiddish movie (Hester Street, which I will write about in another entry), and that took a couple of hours.

I also talk to my dog in Yiddish when I am in the mood, which is nice, because he doesn't seem to care one way or the other what language I am speaking, but I don't feel nearly so mad as when I would try to have conversations with myself in Yiddish. Admittedly, the things I say to my dog tend to be along the "Good dog" variety, and I like to describe him in Yiddish. He's kleine, he's fetz, he has ein oig. He's also zeyer zis.

All told, my daily work on Yiddish ranges from 45 minutes to two or three hours. Even doing the bare minimum -- creating and memorizing flashcards -- would take me about an hour a day. I post the amount I have studied at the top of the page -- 54 hours just now. But that's just the time spent studying flashcards. It doubles when you include creating the flashcard, and triples when you include all the other Yiddish stuff I do.

So, at the moment, I probably have worked on Yiddish for about 162 hours. Of course, if Malcolm Gladwell is right and it takes 10,000 hours to become an expert at anything, I am one 1/61th of the way to expertise, and I have more than 6,000 days of study left -- 16 years! -- before I will have mastered Yiddish.

Thankfully, the 10,000 hours thing is probably a myth. On top of that, most people who can communicate in a language would not be considered masters of it, so it is important to distinguish between fluency and mastery; I'm shooting for the former, not the latter. I can't guarantee that I will spend 10,000 hours over the next decade and a half on Yiddish.

After all, I need some time to play with my dog.

Week 15: 20 Words for Idiot


The stats:

I have studied Yiddish for 108 days
I have studied Yiddish flashcards for a total of 51 hours
I have reviewed 1,465 individual flashcards
Correct learning: 69.36%
Correct young: 74.59%
Correct mature: 81.02%

I was having a bit of a panic last week. I don't know -- I just felt like maybe I was starting to develop too much of a backlog of sort-of-known words, they weren't showing up often enough, and so I wasn't really learning them.

I'm not sure what caused this. Perhaps it is the fact that there is a slow but constant decline in my stats for "correct learning" and "correct young," and, at some point in my life, I guess I became a grade grubber. I mean, for words I have already learned, if you look above, I am at about 75 percent correct, and that's a solid C, while for mature words that I have studied for a long time, I am at 81 percent, which makes me just barely a B student, were I being graded.

And I'm not a C or a B student, damn it. I'm an A student. And so I started to think that maybe I should reign in the introduction of new words until I was really comfortable with the words I am now learning. But I started to research the flashcard program I am using, Anki, and nobody seemed to think that it is possible to get overwhelmed, and some felt that I could actually add a lot more information without it being too much of a problem. "I had to learn to trust the program," one blogger wrote, or something like that. I am paraphrasing.

So I decided just to trust the program. After all, I do have a goal, and that is to familiarize myself with 3,000 words by the end of the year, or the words used in about 95 percent of written Yiddish, which is, I am given to understand, the amount you need to be able to suss out the meaning of unknown words in a sentence from context.

I am at nearly half that number of flashcards in just over 100 days, although that includes a number of sentences and several hundred words of slang, including perhaps 20 variations of the word "idiot." Just as the Eskimos are supposed to have 50 words for snow (an untruth, as I understand it), Jews seem to have a need for an endless number of words for morons and fools. As it happens, so do I.

Perhaps when I get to 3,000 words, I will want to take time to really dig in with the flashcards I already have, and will add fewer new words. But I suspect not -- the next goal is 6,000 words, which is the amount that is defined as "intermediate fluency" in ASL courses, and I'm not going to get there any time soon if I stop adding new words. I think what is happening is that I need to develop some new tricks for learning words that I have trouble with.

Also, my score has taken a bit of a hit because I have had to correct the gender of many of my cards, and so now, while I know the meaning of a card perfectly well, I sometimes get the gender wrong. This should be self-correcting soon enough, but presently is irritating, and makes me feel like any one of 20 words for idiot.

Week 13: Checking In


The stats:

I have studied Yiddish for 93 days
I have studied Yiddish flashcards for a total of 43 hours
I have reviewed 1,232 individual flashcards
Correct learning: 69.84%
Correct young: 76.11%
Correct mature: 79.06% 

I started this project three months ago, inspired, as I said then, by a street approach to language learning that favors an extremely blunt and direct approach to language acquisition. You memorize 1,000 of the most common words, and then you learn sentences from a grammar book to put it into context.

These approaches set a date on when you can start to expect fluency, which, in fairness, they define as a continuum. They don't claim that you'll be a native speaker, but, within a certain amount of time, you'll start to understand the language you are studying. That time period is generally about three months.

So here I am. I'm not sure that I have memorized all 1,000 of the most common words, but I've got most of them, and I'm only partway into my grammar book. But, nonetheless, I have learned enough that I should be able to start to test these claims.

The first I want to test is the claim that if you learn the top 1,000 words, you'll understand about 70 percent of what you read. I've concocted a simple test for this: I have grabbed four headline from the Yiddish Forward, and I have translated them to the best of my ability. I will type out my translation, leaving blanks for words I could not translate, and I'll mark the percentage of words I got right, along with some notes about how well I understood what I was reading.
מיכאל פֿעלזענבאַום באַדויערט, וואָס די סאָוועטישע מאַכט האָט פֿאַרשוויגן, וויפֿל פֿון די סאָוועטישע העלדן זענען געווען ייִדן

Michael Felsenbaum_____, what the _______ makes has _____, how many of the _______ ____ are given Jews.

I understand 76 percent of this sentence, sort of, by way of very literal translation. I somehow missed that sovetishe is Soviet, and that the entire sentence, more accurately translated, is as follows: Michael Felsenbaum rejects what the Soviets power had concealed, how many of the Soviet heroes were Jews.

So, I understood, but did not understand. I turned the idiom for "were" into "are given," and I also didn't know the word for "heroes," which means that I got a lot of the words but none of the meaning. Next sentence:
פֿון אונדזער אַרכיוו: זעט ווי אַזוי די ייִדישיסטן און באָבעווער חסידים האָבן געפּראַוועט פּורים אין 2011

From our archive: __ how so the Yiddishists and Bobover Hasidim have ___ Purim in 2011.
87 percent translated correctly, and, although I am missing a few words, I'd say I understand this sentence pretty well. A better translation: From our archive : See how Yiddishists and Bobever Hasidim have celebrated Purim in 2011.

I sort of thought the word zet might be related to seeing -- they are all ze words -- and I knew azoi wasn't going to be used as "so," but wasn't sure how it would be used. I didn't know the word for celebrate, but I assumed that's what they were going for in context. All in all, I'd say this sentence was a success.
דער ספֿרדישער הויפּט־רבֿ יצחק יוסף טענהט, אַז די גויים טאָרן ניט וווינען אין ארץ־ישׂראל. יואל מאַטוועיעוו האַלט, אַז דאָס איז אַ סימן, אַז די מיזרחים ווערן קולטורעל אַסימילירט אין דער עקסטרעמער חרידישער שיטה

The Sephardic High Rabbi Yizhak Joseph ___, is the non-Jews ____ not live in Israel. Yoel Matveyev stop, when that is a ____, when the Mizrachim ____ cultural assimilation in the extreme Haredim ___.
About 82 percent correct, and, I mean, close. I get that it is a conflict between factions in Israel and is about assimilation. I didn't really get the final sentence, which is better understood as saying that the Mizrachim, the Eastern Jews, can be seen as having been assimilated into the Haredim, the ultra-Orthodox. I'd say I half understood this sentence.
אַ פּאָדקאַסט פֿונעם „מילקען־אַרכיוו פֿון ייִדישער מוזיק‟ פֿאָרשט אויס די השפּעה פֿון דזשעז אויף חזנות

A podcast ____ "Milken-archive of Jewish music" ____ out the ____ from jazz of cantors.
About 81 percent correct. A couple of key words missing, but I get that it's a podcast that has something to do with jazz and cantorial music. Of course, what I'm missing is that the podcast explores the influence of jazz on cantorial music, and this feels significant, as it's the crux of the relationship.

All told, I approximately correctly translated an average of 81.5 percent of the headlines I read. This is more than I expected, and I suspect it helps that I can identify names and know Judaism well enough to know when a culturally specific word appears in a sentence.

Still, I'd say I only actually understood one of the sentences, somewhat understood two more, and missed by a country mile on one. If fluency is a continuum, I am all the way at the far end of it, and have perhaps edged a toe in.

Which is, I must say, nonetheless astonishing to me. Three months feels like a long time while you're in the middle of it, especially when you're impatient, as I am. But it feels like no time at all when you're done with it. When you have studying languages in the past, some for years, and have nothing like this level of comprehension when you read those languages, it positively feels like a magic trick.

Week 9: ESL and language acquisition


The stats:

I have studied Yiddish for 65 days
I have studied Yiddish flashcards for a total of 27 hours
I have reviewed 846 individual flashcards

It's the grind all right. I continue to add to my Yiddish without gaining any appreciable understanding of the language. I suppose, like everything else worth doing, language acquisition is a discipline, and the discipline is that you continue to do it when the benefits aren't obvious.

There are stages of language acquisition. ESL teachers divide it up into four stages, as summarized by me below with the amount of time they average it takes.

1. Pre-production: (Six months) This is when you have so little language as to not be able to communicate in it as all, although you might have as many as 500 passive words that you understand. Thankfully, I am passed this stage.

2. Early production: (six months to one year) This involves an active vocabulary of about 1,000 words, and learners can speak short, one- or two-sentence phrases. They also have memorized chunks of language for everyday use. This is very much where I am now.

3. Speech emergence: (one to three years) This involves a vocabulary of about 3,000 words, and learners can communicate short stories, ask simple questions, engage in short conversations, and follow easy-to-read stories. I feel like I am close to reaching this point.

4. Intermediate fluency: (three to five years) This involves a vocabulary of about 6,000 words, and learners are able to construct more complex sentences, including expressing opinions. They can ask clarifying questions.

5. Advanced fluency: (five to seven years) Students at this stage are at near-native levels of fluency.

In the next few weeks, I'll have acquired about 1,000 words, which means I can expect to have a vocabulary of between 4,000 and 5,000 words by the end of my first year.

If I were in an ASL class, I would barely be in the pre-production stage, and would have four more months, on average, before I reached speech emergence. But I am certainly well past that point -- I have a detailed argument with myself about what accent I should be using the other day, and the argument was entirely in Yiddish, albeit almost certainly in broken Yiddish.

Nonetheless, this means I am well into the early production stage, and starting to tip toward the speech emergence stage, none of which is expected for another four months to a year. So, credit to this approach to learning language -- it does work quite quickly, even if it feels like it is crawling just now.

Of course, I can't actually know how well I am learning the language until I test it in actual communication. Once I reach a thousand words, I think I shall have to start seeking some sort of mechanism of communication. There are online sites designed specifically for this, such as conversation exchange, but I'm not finding much by way of Yiddish on these sites. I'll start looking into it in earnest this week.


Week 8: Leap Day and a Six-Month Goal


The stats:

I have studied Yiddish for 58 days
I have studied Yiddish flashcards for a total of 23 hours
I have reviewed 743 individual flashcards

Because weeks go into months so oddly, this is both the end of my seventh week of studying Yiddish and the end of my second month. At least I am not using the Jewish calendar, with its lunar cycles and occasional intercalary months. I've never been able to quite figure out how the Jewish calendar figures anything out, by, by my reckoning, I would now be finished with my third day and my 18th month.

I suspect I have entered a period of study that I call the churn, and am familiar with from other things I have studied. This is a long period where you just continue to study and study and study and don't seem to be progressing at all. There is this long gulf between just starting to know things, which is exciting, and knowing enough for it to meaningful, and that long gulf can be frustrating.

That's certainly how it feels just now. I know that I am gaining incremental knowledge, much of it useful. As an example, I have started to recognize parts of compound words, and there are a lot of them in Yiddish, and they are pretty fun. There's a Yiddish word, unter, and it means under. So it gets used in rather obvious ways -- an undershirt is made by combining the Yiddish words for under and shirt: Unterhemd.

But it's also used in surprising ways. "To sign," like when you give an autograph, is unterscribn, literally "underwriting." If you're going to bribe someone, the word is unterkoifn, or "underpaying." I expect being able to recognize this sort of thing will be useful down the road, as a lot of words are built out of combining parts from others words.

I've also realized that plural nouns are going to be a bit of a trick. Yiddish has many ways to make a noun into a plural noun, and they don't necessarily follow any easily remembered rules. Sometimes, Yiddish just sticks an s on the end of a word, as we often do in English. Sometimes, they add an n. Some words are the same whether they are singular or plural. And sometimes the inside of the word changes, as it does in English when we change a mouse into mice.

So the only way to learn the plural for Yiddish words is just to memorize it. I'm not going to start doing that yet, but I'm going to have to at some point.

Another thing I learned this week: When you affix the word "the" in front of a word, the sort of "the" you stick there depends both on the gender of the noun and whether it is plural or not, and it gets a little crazy here. If there's only one of something, and the noun is masculine, you say "der" for "the." If it's feminine, "the" becomes "di." And if it is a neutral noun, "the" is "dos." And you just need to know the gender of a noun, because there are no hard and fast rules for this either. A beard, as an example, is feminine. An ovary, in the meanwhile, is masculine. The mouth is neutral, which is not my experience with mouths at all.

But when it becomes plural, both the masculine and the neutral noun become dem, which I like, because it sounds like a street tough is saying "them." But a female noun becomes der. Which I have to assume was a decision made a thousand years ago by people who just thought this might be funny, because it means that when a female noun becomes plural, it takes the form of "the" that we otherwise use for singular male nouns. I'd read some subtle sexism here -- it's as though the language has decided that more than one female nouns are the same as one male noun. But, frankly, it's just too convoluted to be effective as sexism, although that's never stopped something from being sexist in the past.

So I have learned these sorts of grammatical rules, but just learning a rule is next to useless. You need to know how to apply it, and I don't know what the plural for any word is yet, and it will be a while before I learn it. And even if I did, you can't speak a language by building it out of grammatical rules you have memorized. Otherwise, trying to construct a sentence consists of desperately trying to remember the language equivalent of math problems, and that's a slow way to speak.

So this is the grind. It's the time between when you have learned something, the time when you can quickly recall it, and the time when you can make use of it without having to think about it.

And it's not just grammar. This is true with the words I have learned, where I still struggle to remember what they mean. It's true of the sentences I have started to learn, where I barely have the sentences themselves memorized, and am not at the point where I really understand the separate parts of it, or how to take it apart and build a new sentence using the pieces.

I know, I know -- I'm only two months in. The average 3-year-old child has about 1,000 words they can use, and I don't even have that yet. And 4-year-olds know 5,000 words. 8-year-olds know 10,000 words, and have you ever read a book written for an 8-year-old? Not exactly Proust.

Newspapers tend to be written at an 9th grade level, and those 14-year-olds know somewhere in the area of 25,000 words. At the rate I'm going, it would take me 240 plus weeks to learn that many words, or more than 4 1/2 years.

I know I do this too often -- this sort of back-of-the-envelope breakdown of words, ages, and months. I don't expect it makes for thrilling reading, and it's really just a way for me to try to understand the benchmarks to learning, and how much time I can expect it to take.

And, of course, as I have mentioned before, there are different ways to judge proficiency than trying to talk like a 14-year-old. There is something called the Common European Framework of Reference for Languages (CEFR), which divides proficiency into three groups, with two levels per group.

So there is A1, as an example, which sounds pretty good, as in America if you're A number 1, you're just about as good as you can be. But Europeans don't care for American English phrases, and so A1 in the CEFR test means you are a beginner. Here's what a beginner can do:

  • Can understand and use familiar everyday expressions and very basic phrases aimed at the satisfaction of needs of a concrete type.
  • Can introduce him/herself and others and can ask and answer questions about personal details such as where he/she lives, people he/she knows and things he/she has.
  • Can interact in a simple way provided the other person talks slowly and clearly and is prepared to help.
I should note that I'm not even able to do this yet, so I am somewhere below beginner on this test. The person who is at an A1 level generally has a vocabulary of somewhere between 1200 and 1500 words, so when I have doubled my vocabulary, I'll see how I feel about this.

The highest rating on the CEFR is C2, also defined as mastery or proficiency, and those folks can do the following:

  • Can understand with ease virtually everything heard or read.
  • Can summarize information from different spoken and written sources, reconstructing arguments and accounts in a coherent presentation.
  • Can express him/herself spontaneously, very fluently and precisely, differentiating finer shades of meaning even in the most complex situations.
The person at this level generally has a vocabulary of  somewhere between 3500 and 5000 words. Presumably they make due with less words than a 14-year-old because 14-year-olds need to many words to describe dreamy pop stars and to badmouth each other on social media.

So that's a much more reasonable goal -- one that can even be accomplished in a year!

And there's an even more reasonable goal, and it will be my first one. I have never completed my college language requirement, and would like to be able to test out of it. In order to do this, I must be fluent in a language to the point where I can read and listen at the Intermediate-High level and write and speak at the Intermediate-Mid level. At my college, these levels are defined using a different scale, one developed by the  American Council on the Teaching of Foreign Languages, or ACTFL.

At the risk of getting too wonky, here's the basic definition of Intermediate high level:

Intermediate High speakers are able to converse with ease and confidence when dealing with the routine tasks and social situations of the Intermediate level. They are able to handle successfully uncomplicated tasks and social situations requiring an exchange of basic information related to their work, school, recreation, particular interests, and areas of competence.

I can't find anything that gives a sense of how many vocabulary words this might require, but it does roughly line up with the the B1 level of the CEFF. And that's somewhere between 2,700 and 3,000 words.

That's about 7.5 months, not counting the month I have already completed. So there, after some protracted and probably hideously misconceived math, I have reached my first testable goal: B1 level of CEFF, or the equivalent, in another six months or thereabouts.

And how do I demonstrate my level of competence? Well, the NYU school of professional studies offers a proficiency test in Yiddish. The test is not cheap, and I may have to go to New York to take it, so I won't take it until I feel confident that I have reached the level I want to reach. But I'm going to shoot for six months, and am glad to have a clear goal, and a testable one.
Intermediate High speakers are able to converse with ease and confidence when dealing with the routine tasks and social situations of the Intermediate level. They are able to handle successfully uncomplicated tasks and social situations requiring an exchange of basic information related to their work, school, recreation, particular interests, and areas of competence. - See more at: http://www.actfl.org/publications/guidelines-and-manuals/actfl-proficiency-guidelines-2012/english/speaking#intermediate
Intermediate High speakers are able to converse with ease and confidence when dealing with the routine tasks and social situations of the Intermediate level. They are able to handle successfully uncomplicated tasks and social situations requiring an exchange of basic information related to their work, school, recreation, particular interests, and areas of competence.
Intermediate High speakers can handle a substantial number of tasks associated with the Advanced level, but they are unable to sustain performance of all of these tasks all of the time. Intermediate High speakers can narrate and describe in all major time frames using connected discourse of paragraph length, but not all the time. Typically, when Intermediate High speakers attempt to perform Advanced-level tasks, their speech exhibits one or more features of breakdown, such as the failure to carry out fully the narration or description in the appropriate major time frame, an inability to maintain paragraph-length discourse, or a reduction in breadth and appropriateness of vocabulary.
Intermediate High speakers can generally be understood by native speakers unaccustomed to dealing with non-natives, although interference from another language may be evident (e.g., use of code-switching, false cognates, literal translations), and a pattern of gaps in communication may occur.
- See more at: http://www.actfl.org/publications/guidelines-and-manuals/actfl-proficiency-guidelines-2012/english/speaking#intermediate