Friday, May 26, 2017

Those with ears ought to hear

“Somewhere, always, the sun is rising, and somewhere, always, the birds are singing.”

-Donald Kroodsma, PhD


I don’t believe I’ve mentioned this in my blog before, but, I like birds. I just really like them. There, I said it. So much so, that I sought out and found an outlet for my bird passion and became a member of Cornell University’s Lab of Ornithology. It’s a great organization dedicated to bird research as well as conservation and protection of the environment to preserve species habitat.  Planet Earth has so many beautiful, natural marvels; so many beautiful creatures and yet most people don’t notice or pay attention to any of it. People are too busy with their agendas. Their eyes are open, but they’re not seeing.  They’re driving, reading, and scrolling on their phone. They’re looking down. Their gaze is fixated on the computer screen. Few people actually look up. And fewer listen.

If you open yourself up to your surroundings,  you might be walking along one day and hear a familiar “teek-teek-teek-teek!” of an alarmed Black-capped Chickadee. Or, you may hear the answering caw of a far-away American Crow. You may awaken one spring morning to the mating song of a White-Throated Sparrow. Or, when you settle in to sleep some cold winter night, you might hear the haunting territorial hoot of the Great-Horned Owl. Try it some time. Listen. You’re not alone in this life.

As part of my membership to the Cornell Lab of Ornithology, I receive their monthly magazine Living Bird. It is filled with articles on the latest scientific research into bird behavior, conservation efforts, migration studies etc. Recently, one particular article piqued my interest because I found in it great similarity to my experiences in language learning. Birdspeak is language, is it not? Just because we don’t understand it, doesn’t mean there isn’t a significant amount of communication going on.

Insert here Dr. Donald Kroodsma, university professor (now retired), with numerous publications and accolades to his name in the field of ornithogical research. He has dedicated his post-university life entirely to birdsong, and to efforts in teaching everyday, non-scientist people how to recognize bird species based on their song. In my recent copy of Living Bird, authors conducted an interview with Dr. Kroodsma, asking him how one can become familiar with a particular bird’s song. His answers, in my opinion, truly mimic how learners of a second language begin to familiarize themselves with the speech and meaning of words spoken in a language foreign to them.

He says we can familiarize ourselves with a bird’s song in, “...the same way we get to know people.”  He uses an example of a person who moves to a new town. That person starts to get to know those around him one by one, starting with, say, the next-door neighbor. Once you keep listening to and talking to that person, it is unlikely you would mistake him for any other person when next you hear his voice speaking. Once you know him, you move on to the next person and speak with him and get to know him individually, and so on and so forth. You realize that everyone has a unique voice pattern and speech, a unique dialect. Once you know it, there is no mistaking it.

He goes on to say that any given bird species has multiple songs in its repertoire. For example, “..a Song Sparrow has about eight different songs...sit an listen to an individual and hear him sing one particular song over and over...after...10 to 20 repetitions...he’ll switch to another song.”  In this way, “..you learn...how an individual bird expresses itself.” He goes on to say that once you know the several songs unique to Song Sparrows as a whole, you will never confuse the Song Sparrow with any other species.

I can certainly attest to this mode of learning as it applies to the Spanish language. Yes, there is the generic, universal Spanish language you learn in school. But not everyone speaks that Spanish. Few people are “generic”.  During my years working at Bellevue Hospital in Manhattan and my post-residency years working in the community, I have, unbeknownst to me, been applying Dr. Kroodsma’s birdsong technique to my Spanish-speaking patients. I have spoken to and listened to many Dominican patients, for example. I have gotten to know them individually. I’ve gotten to know their Spanish individually. After a time, I couldn’t confuse one Dominican’s  Spanish with any other Dominican’s Spanish. And, after a time, I couldn’t confuse Dominican Spanish as a whole with any other country’s Spanish. Obviously, this level of learning takes time. It takes patience, and it takes a willingness to listen and interact with many different people in varying scenarios.

A final question posed to Dr. Kroodsma in this article is of particular importance: “How can birders improve their auditory memory?” He talks about 1) recording the song, so that you can hear it over and over again. In addition, he talks about making 2) spectrograms of the song. Spectrograms are line drawings of the song on paper, which visually highlight the various parts of the song: the long, drawn-out whistles, the short, quick chirps, the even shorter quicker trills. He says, “when I see the song and hear the song simultaneously, the eyes teach the ears how to listen.”

Insert here my long-held belief in the importance of reading a language to strengthen understanding and memory of that language. This is why I strongly support written language dialogue as a major means of learning and growth in language. Dr. Kroodsma’s life-long seminal work has at its focus the communication of birds. But the end result of that work is much more profound. It is communication-- among and in between individuals and then among individuals as they connect to the whole. To communicate effectively, we only need to take the time. We only have to look and listen.


References

“Get to Know Your Neighbors First: Q&A with Birdsong Expert Don Kroodsma.” Living Bird 36.2 (Spring 2017): 9.


Kroodsma, Donald. “Biography.” Donald Kroodsma: The art and science of listening to birdsong.” Wordpress. Web. Accessed 26, May 2017.


Courtesy: Totally Owls Website

Monday, May 15, 2017

Finding the Right Ritmo

Me acerco a la paciente, una mujer de 85 años, y su hija que está aquí para acompañarla.

Doctora: Hola,¿Sra. López*? Soy Dra. Hromin (sonrie,mira a su hija)– vengan Uds. conmigo por favor, vamos a empezar el examen ahora.

Sra. L: Mucho gusto (apoyada en el brazo de su hija)

D: Aquí estamos. Sra. L, usted puede sentarse ahí (le muestra la silla de examen). Y usted puede sentarse en el lado, gracias (le muestra a la hija otra silla).

(se enfrenta a la Sra. López)

Se dice aquí que tiene problemas con los lentes – no funcionan para usted—que quiere usted lentes nuevos para leer.

Sra. L: (con expresión confusa-le mira a su hija con cejas fruncidas) ¿Qué dice ella?

D: (habla con la hija) ¿Ella no comprende mi español? ¿Por qué?

La hija: No, ella la comprende, es solo, ella es vieja....(a su madre) Mama, ella le pregunta si tiene 
problemas con los lentes. Me dijo que ellos no funcionan para leer, ¿no?


                                                                          *

(Translation:
I’m approaching the patient, a woman 85 years of age, and her daughter who is here to accompany her.

Doctor: Hello, Mrs. Lopez? I am Dr. Hromin (smiling, looking at the daughter)-come with me, please, we are going to start the exam now.

Mrs. L: Pleased to meet you (leaning on the arm of her daughter).

D: Here we are. Mrs. Lopez, you can sit there (shows her the examination chair). And you can sit on the side, thank you (shows the daughter the other chair).

D: (faces Mrs. Lopez) It says here that you have problems with your glasses – they are not working for you – that you want new glasses for reading.

Mrs. Lopez: (with a confused expression – she looks at her daughter with furrowed brows) What is she saying?

D: (talking with the daughter) She doesn’t understand my Spanish? Why?

The daughter: No, she understands you, it’s just, she is old...(addressing her mother) Mama, she is asking you if you have problems with the glasses. You told me they are not working for you for reading, right?


                                                                        *         


When I was first learning how to communicate in Spanish, through real, live, conversations with patients during my medical school days, it was very rough-going for some time.  I tend to advance quickly in reading and writing language skills, but speaking and listening are a unique and different skill set.  Unlike written text, which can only appear one way on paper, spoken dialogue varies from person to person, based on accent, rapidity of speech, dialect. Does this person slur his speech when he talks? Does he drop the final consonant? Does he talk so quickly that a sentence becomes one, long, continuous word? Native speakers of a language know the various ways something can be pronounced and still make sense of it. They know the inflections, the accents, the slang, the dialect. They know when to listen, and how to listen. And they know how to speak.

In the beginning, when my Spanish vocabulary was poor, my understanding of grammar was limited and I had minimal previous interaction with native speakers-- talking in full sentences was painfully slow and choppy. It took tremendous time and effort to spit out one complete thought in the language, and it required a listener who was willing to wait to hear what I had to say-- not get frustrated and complete my sentence for me. Understandably, because my practice in the language was minimal, my pronunciation of words more often than not, was incorrect. I would put the emphasis on the wrong syllable, and native Spanish speakers listening to me would look at me curiously, with one brow raised.

That’s how it was in the beginning. But now, fast forward almost 15 years later, and I’ve worked with many Spanish-speaking patients. Their countries of origin vary, but have included a rich mix of Dominican, Puerto Rican, Chilean, Guatemalan, Mexican, Salvadoran and Peruvian patients. As a result, I’ve been exposed to various ways of speaking the language, including lenguaje llano (plain language) typical of the regions the speakers are from (known as localization in translation circles). I know what to listen for now, and I judge myself a pretty good mimic of the correct pronunciation. I don’t sound like a typical “English speaker learning Spanish” anymore. I’m proud of that.  Most patients now mistake me for someone of, say, Puerto Rican, descent, based on my Spanish. I am thrilled. I feel accomplished.  

So that is why when I come across a patient like this older woman in the above dialogue, who needs to look to her daughter to interpret my Spanish to her Spanish, I am dumbstruck. I listen carefully to the daughter to see if she’s using any special vocabulary or colloquial phrasing. She’s not! In fact, oftentimes the daughter says verbatim in Spanish what I already said- and somehow the mother understands better. ??? In these scenarios I have no answers to give on what to do when this happens. I only try to speak more slowly, loudly (if I suspect a senior patient has a hearing problem) and place more emphasis on proper accent pronunciation.

Out of curiosity, I attempted to look online to see if anyone else in the healthcare field or elsewhere, wrote about a similar experience. Not many useful hits came to light, except for one messaging site where a native Spanish-speaker wrote that when someone non-native speaks Spanish, if she doesn’t have the right “ritmo”, or rhythm, to her speech, then he has difficulty understanding her.


It seems the reality of language learning is this:  you may have built quite an arsenal of vocabulary. You may be following all of the grammar rules. You may have excellent reading, writing and listening skills.  But when you open your mouth and speak,  if you don’t have the right ritmo, then all of that knowledge is for naught. Your listener won’t understand you. You’re missing a key component in oral communication. Getting the rhythm right only comes over time, from interactions with many different native speakers. This is yet another argument I have against these “be fluent in 3 months” language programs. It took you a lifetime to get your native language’s ritmo right, why would you expect anything less from any other language?