Chinese Characters--look for the story

I’m teaching my daughter and her friend how to write Chinese characters as part of their weekly lesson (see my post from last week about our new Chinese language co-op).  Since they are also encountering new vocab and grammar patterns almost every week, I try to introduce only one or two new characters at a time.

Instead of forcing my daughter and her friend to copy the new characters hundreds of times (which was how I learned...and then promptly forgot), I look for creative ways to keep the characters fresh and alive in their minds.  One idea that I've been looking into lately is  imagining the character as part of a larger drawing and/or making up a story about that drawing. 

Illustrator, author, and graphic designer Christoph Niemann does this brilliantly in The Pet Dragon. He illustrates the meaning of Chinese characters by making them part of his illustrations for a story about a little girl named Lin Lin and the little dragon she receives as a gift. For some characters, Niemann employs the historical meaning of the pictograph (i.e. the character for “person” is meant to look like a walking person; Niemann draws this  character on top of a walking Lin).  But for others, Niemann creates his own interpretations of characters (i.e. the character fu, father, becomes Lin’s angry father’s eyebrows and moustache).  

Niemann is upfront with his intentions for this book—it is not to teach Chinese but to inspire kids to learn more. And that's what I loved about the book: it inspired me to look for the story, whether intentioned or unintended, in the characters. By asking my daughter and her friend to help create the story, this will help them remember the character—or at least that's my theory.  I'll let you know how it turns out!

How do you help kids remember Chinese characters?

Will she ever dream in Chinese?

We’ve begun a new year of Chinese lessons in our household. This year my friend and I are trying something entirely new. We’ve formed a small co-op and are team-teaching our girls Chinese.  With my background in the Chinese language, I contribute to the linguistic side of our lessons and she, the master teacher, finds new and creative ways to make our lessons “stick.”

This past week, I watched my daughter process a sentence from a story I was telling them.  “Lùlù yào yī zhǐ xiǎo gǒu” (Lulu wants a small dog), I stated.  

She looked at me quizzically, “Huh?” and held up her index finger, which is our sign for "please say it one more time.”

“Lùlù yào yī zhǐ xiǎo gǒu,” I repeated. 

She looked out of the corner of her eye thoughtfully and held up two fingers (the sign for two more repeats). 

“Lùlù yào,” I broke the sentence up into fragments. “Lulu wants,” she translated out loud.

 “yī zhǐ,” I continued.

“That means one,” she said.

“xiǎo gǒu,” I finished.

“Xiǎo is little and gǒu means dog,” she responded.

“So what did I say?” I asked again.

“Lulu wants a small dog,” she beamed.  And I did too, because she patiently analyzed the sentence, bit by bit, and--despite being confused at first--successfully completed the translation.

Later that night,  I wondered, "Will she ever dream in Chinese?" Will she, at some point, become  fluent in this language that right now feels so strange in her mouth and mind? And when will she be able to transition from translating word for word to thinking and responding automatically in Chinese?

Do I even remember when this happened for me?

I remember sitting in first year Chinese in college, hearing my teacher speak and trying desperately to make the cogs in my brain turn faster.  During the second year, my teacher spoke Chinese only during class and although I quickly began understanding what he said, I struggled in my responses, stuttering and sputtering, as I tried to first translate in my mind what I wanted to say from English to Chinese, and then repeat this phrase as imagined out loud.  At some point during the following five years, my brain made the switch and I started to respond, think, and yes, even dream in Chinese.

I know that my heart will swell with pride if and when my daughter gets to this point, but for the time being, I am thrilled that she is learning the language, even if it is bit by bit.

***The title for this post is from a book I'm currently reading by linguist Deborah Fallows, which is about her experience as an American in China, as seen through the lens of learning the Chinese language. 

Spice Cabinet Chinese Lessons

This past week when I needed space for a jar of newly dried basil from my garden, I found myself cleaning out my spice cabinet. I pitched sage, curry powder, and lemon pepper that was way past its prime, and then my fingers touched Chinese Five Spice Powder, or wuxiang fen (五香粉), which is a mixture of spices--most commonly star anise, cloves, cinnamon, Sichuan pepper, and ground fennel seeds.

I turned to my daughter who was nibbling on a snack, “Do you want to hear a funny story about your dad?”

I told her about how my dear husband, when we were first married, loved to cook but didn’t have much experience cooking Chinese dishes, despite growing up in Shanghai.  One day he tried making the ubiquitous Chinese dish Fish-fragrant Pork Slivers (Yuxiang Rousi, 鱼香肉丝).  However, at some point in his youth, he misheard the name of the dish as Wuxiang Rousi, and as a result, thought that the defining spice used in this dish was in fact wuxiang fen, Chinese Five Spice Powder.

Well, fast-forward a few months, and my husband decided to make this new dish for his mother who was in town visiting.  After taking a bite, she exclaimed, “What did you put in here?” “Wuxiang fen,” he answered.  

“The dish is called Yuxiang Rousi not Wuxiang Rousi,” she laughed, barely able to get the words out of her mouth. And to this day, this story brings much laughter around his parents' dinner table.

“Do you get it?” I asked my daughter,  “Daddy confused the word wu, meaning five, with yu, meaning fish.” 

“Yeah,” she said, laughing to herself and repeating “wu” and “yu.”

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If you’re wondering what Yuxiang Rousi is and how to make it, check out Moveable Feast’s adaptation of Sichuan food expert Fuschia Dunlop’s recipe: 
http://moveablefeast.wordpress.com/2007/03/30/mindblowing-fish-fragrant-pork-slivers-yu-xiang-rou-si/ 
and another recipe by Chef Wang:

http://traditionalchineserecipes.blogspot.com/2011/05/yu-xiang-zhu-rou-si-fish-fragrance-pork.html 
(I like his suggestion about putting the pork in the freezer before slicing; my father-in-law does this).

Learning Chinese: beyond flashcards and rote repetition?

Not quite the end of the school year and we find ourselves, again, without Chinese teacher. Without going into details of the latest debacle (although entertaining—or depressing—depending on how you look at it), my husband and I have decided to try teaching our daughter, ourselves.

I’m sure my in-laws will squeal with joy (or slap their foreheads, dumbfounded) when they hear this. They’ve been trying to convince us to teach both of our kids for years.  I don’t know what’s taken us so long to give it a try.  Maybe we lacked confidence or motivation? But after three years, four teachers, and hundreds of dollars of class fees, we’re finally ready to give it a go. 

"But are we qualified?" the voice in my head asks.

I think so. My husband is a native Mandarin speaker, and I’m a lifelong Mandarin student with many years of training (undergrad, grad school, immersion programs, independent research….the list drones on…) and some teaching experience, albeit in an entirely different field.  So, I feel that we are qualified enough to at least, like I said, give it a go. 

With my best “can do” spirit, I dove into researching the many different Chinese language textbooks on the market, and after about two hours of staring at very similar-looking books, worksheets, and flashcards (all published in China, Singapore, or Taiwan for native speakers), I realized that I was not finding what I was looking for.

I wanted my daughter to learn Chinese like she learned other subjects in school.  Her school has adopted a progressive program that stresses active learning experiences. Kids learn about science, math, and language through thematic units during which kids work on projects that teach and reinforce the new concepts. 

For example, her class is raising chicks from eggs as part of their new bird study. In addition to reading books about chick development, the class read the handbook for the egg incubator. Later, they recalled the important “rules” about caring for the eggs and the incubator from the handbook, and worked in pairs to write these rules down on poster board for the class to follow. Throughout the next weeks, the students will work in pairs to care for the eggs and make sure that the rules are followed, up until the hatching of the eggs.  

Now, I am searching for a Chinese language teaching method, textbook, or teacher (whose approach I can model) that moves beyond flashcards and rote repetition, one that stresses creatively and actively engaging students in learning experiences, motivates them to use language, and then reinforces language concepts in a variety of different ways (storytelling, poems, nursery rhymes, song, and drama.) 

I’ve found bits and pieces of ideas online but I am still searching for more. 

I would absolutely love to hear your ideas!

•  How do you (if you teach your child) or your child’s teacher actively engage your child in learning Chinese?   
•  What tools (textbooks, storybooks, websites, etc…) or strategies have you found helpful? 

Shang Ke!

It's fall, which means that it's time to start looking for Chinese lessons for my six-year old.  Chinese-class hunting has become an annual ritual for our family ever since my daughter turned three.

"Chinese class?" many of our non-Chinese speaking friends incredulously ask.  "But don't you and your husband speak Chinese?"

"Yes," I usually explain.  "But my husband's native tongue is Shanghainese, a dialect of Mandarin that is like its completely own language."

I speak Mandarin, but it is my acquired tongue, so the Chinese that I teach my kids either has bad grammar or incorrect tones.  When my daughter was a baby, my husband would sometimes overhear me teaching her short phrases in Chinese.  His response:  "What are you trying to teach her to say?"
So I stuck with funny expressions and slang that were fun to use around the house (such as "stinky bottom" and "big head"), and hoped that she wouldn't repeat them to her grandparents on accident.

So back to Chinese lessons.  We tried sending L to the local Chinese school where she attended with other Chinese kids--those who had recently moved to the United States, biracial kids, and kids who had been adopted from China at birth.  That worked out okay until she turned five and the songs and games that she so loved...stopped. They were replaced with two hours of sitting in a chair and repeating Chinese words and phrases to her teacher, who often spoke in a loud monotone.

Next, we hired a teacher from China who was trained as a language instructor to give private lessons to my daughter and several other girls. The teacher brought the songs and games back, and my daughter began to love learning Chinese again. Sadly, our beloved teacher was not available this year so we started another search.

This year my girl will take private lessons with a native English speaker who is proficient in Chinese and dedicated to teaching young non-native speakers. My daughter is loving her classes so far.  Her teacher comes prepared with stickers, candy, and a panda puppet each week.  What little girl can resist these treats?

For now, my girl is excited to learn Chinese, and that is something to celebrate!