Know anyone who has moved to another country and had to learn the language? Perhaps you yourself are such a person. Then this book is for you -- or for anyone in this position whom you may know.
Available in print through online bookstores, as well as in selected
bookstores. Available also in
digital form through Amazon Kindle, B&N Book Nook, and Apple iBooks.
Description: Losing My Voice and Finding Another is a language learner narrative,
based on the author's experiences from 2003 to 2010, when he emigrated
from the United States to Germany at the age of 53 and began to learn
German. The book is written for adults, especially immigrants, who find
it difficult to learn a second language; language teachers who want to
learn about emotional and social aspects of second language learning;
and citizens and policy makers who want to understand why some adult
immigrants are not successful at learning a new language. Foreword by
Dr. Rebecca Oxford.
Video Book Announcement:
From the Press Release:
In this book, Cooper Thompson examines the array of emotions while
learning German: anxiety, excitement, anger, hope, contentment, confusion, and
joy. He explores his own emotional ups and downs, a topic that less personal
books on language learning fail to address adequately. He also probes the far
deeper changes that language learning wrought in his identity, personality,
relationship, and even life-purpose.
When I read his words, my
own world was altered. I entered a new dimension and gained fresh insights
about the substance and the soul of language learning, even though I have been
in the language field for decades. Because he is a perceptive, lively
storyteller, his reflections are rich, enlightening, and captivating. Because
of his social and psychological sensitivity, he is able to provide useful
information to readers of both genders and of a range of backgrounds.
This important and
eminently readable book will be a boon to language teachers, language learners,
educational researchers, sociologists, and cultural experts, and it will be
fascinating to ordinary readers who enjoy a good story.
- commentary by Dr. Rebecca
Oxford, leading L2 and ESL scholar
Professor, United States Air Force Culture & Language Center
Distinguished scholar-Teacher
& Professor Emerita, University of Maryland
Reviews:
From Online Bookstores:
This book has not only expressed in eloquent yet straight-forward
language my deepest fears and struggles as a foreigner living in Germany
but has also provided a voice to many worldwide who struggle daily with
a second language and trying to assimilate. Anyone who has lived
abroad, learned another language and tried to assimilate will experience
many "ah-ha" moments while reading Cooper Thompson's book. It's honest,
heartfelt, well-researched and well-written. A MUST for anyone
experiencing the same challenges.
(Abasolo, Amazon)
Through heart-rending stories and brilliantly descriptive narratives,
Cooper Thompson takes the reader on a journey through the emotional
highs and lows so many of us experience while learning to communicate in
a foreign language. By deeply exploring and artfully describing his
feelings, he is able to help us to be in touch with our own. For anyone
who has struggled to be understood, this book offers assurance that you
are not alone with your fears, frustrations, and inhibitions. At the
same time, it offers encouragement and support to overcome barriers,
both internal and external, that stand in the way of communicating with
those around you. (Kathryn, Barnes & Noble)
From GoodReads:
As
I am a non-immigrant and monolingual person, this is not likely the
sort of book I would have picked up to read. But since I knew of Cooper
Thompson's earlier work as a social justice and diversity activist in
the U.S., I was curious to read about his experience as an immigrant,
learning a new language at the age of 53. The result is a delightful
read; Thompson focused enough on issues of pedagogy, but the heart of
this book is experiential and deeply emotional. Thompson's
story-telling ability, his sensitivity to issues of culture and
identity, couched in a lifetime of thinking about, talking about, and
working with emotions, have resulted in a lively, insightful, and often
delightful read.
From Library Thing:
This book looks at the learning of a second language through the eyes of
an American immigrant to Germany. This is a man with a solid background
of psychology/sociology and an interest in the workings of his own
mind. He takes us through all the non-technical difficulties of learning
a second language, such as the frustration about not being able to
express himself and the influence this has on his emotions, or having to
work with a teacher or teaching method that does not fit. He also finds
some very real opportunities in this process, such as realizing that
often you can understand people better if you let them speak their own
language, even if you don't speak this language yourself. I thought it was a refreshing take on a complex problem, well worth reading.
The author (as posted on his Amazon page):
Cooper Thompson has been leading workshops, consulting, and
organizing against sexism, homophobia, and racism for 30 years. Although
he was born and raised in the United States, he has lived in Germany
since 2003. He is the author of many essays and educational materials on
oppression, and a co-author of White Men Challenging Racism: 35
Personal Stories (2003, Duke University Press; all author royalties go
directly to fund antiracist work.) His latest work, Losing My Voice
and Finding Another, is a memoir about his experience learning and using
German. It was published in 2012 by MSI press. Most of the essays,
and excerpts from the two books, can be found at
www.cooper-thompson.com/essays.
Contact the author via MSI Press: editor@msipress.com.
Excerpt from the book:
I didn’t have peer models or friends of
my age to support me in the learning process. I didn’t have people who could
tell me that my experience was normal. I felt stuck in the role of being a
student and believed I had to go to class. I didn’t know that I had choices for
how I could learn this language.
Years later, I met Madeline Ehrman, an expert on second language
learning difficulties. She suggested to me that I could have negotiated with my
German teachers for what I wanted. It seemed so obvious. I had first learned to
do this in college in 1969 and had done this many times in my life as a
learner, and as a teacher and workshop facilitator I had regularly asked
students and participants to tell me what they wanted. But it had never
occurred to me to do as I was learning German.
Looking back, I realize how powerless I
felt. I was scared, my self-esteem plummeted, and I didn’t see options for
solving this problem. But I wasn’t conscious of being powerless in the sense of
being able to talk about it and name it. I just felt it, and I reacted as if I
really were helpless.
What I needed was an approach to
language learning that would allow me to take on this complex task of language
learning in the same way that children do. They listen and mimic and eventually
create their own words, phrases, and sentences. They play with the language. They
don’t think about being powerful; they simply act like they are. And they don’t
think about their mistakes, until they get to school and teachers begin to
criticize them.
I needed an adult version of this. I
needed opportunities to experiment with the sounds of German, to move my body while
I was trying to speak German, to use the language as best I could, without
worrying if was right or not. I needed a minimum of correction and lots of
repetition and lots of freedom to say whatever I wanted to say, at my own pace.
In class one day, the teacher asked us
to talk about some cultural differences between our home countries and Germany.
A Japanese woman told the class about an unwritten cultural rule against nose
blowing in public, and how she had changed her behavior to accommodate German
culture, where nose blowing is acceptable.
I interrupted her and started talking
about the health implications of nose blowing. I had recently read an article
that suggested that blowing your nose tends to increase ear infections. As I
was rambling on and trying to figure how to say this in German, I was aware
that the teacher looked impatient. If I had put words to her facial expression,
she might have said, “Cooper, that isn’t relevant to what we’re talking about.”
But I just kept talking until I was satisfied that I had explained the danger
of nose blowing. I doubt that anyone understood me.
After class, I thought, why in the world
did I talk about snot and bacteria? And why did I ignore the teacher’s subtle attempt
to quiet me? It wasn’t so awful what I did—I didn’t hurt anyone’s feelings, or
cause a major problem for the class, or violate a cultural taboo—but I felt
embarrassed about it.
My behavior was similar to what happens
during sharing time in kindergarten when kids will say some really random
things that have no connection to what other kids have shared. Maybe I just
wanted to hear my own voice, to show off that I could say something. My German teachers
always told us, “Practice, practice, practice.”
When I told a friend about this—his
daughter was five—he laughed, knowing exactly what I meant. She did this all
the time, and he had found himself doing the same thing when he was learning
Italian. Whenever he could, he’d try to use his Italian, even if it was out of
context or inappropriate. Showing off and making random comments for the sake
of practice is a learning strategy that I would continue to use as I learned
German.
Several years later, I was talking with
a friend who is originally from Poland and has lived in Germany for many years.
She was telling me about an event she organized for her job and how pleased she
was that the mayor was able to attend at the last minute because of a
cancellation in his schedule.
“Ich habe Schwein gehabt,” she exclaimed.
I must not have heard her correctly, so
I interrupted her. “What was that you just said about a Schwein?”
“Ich
habe Schwein gehabt.” I quickly translated this in my head. I had
heard her right. She did say, “I have had pig.”
“What does that mean?”
“That I was lucky. You don’t know this
expression?”
I laughed and acted outraged. “No, I
never heard this. And it’s crazy. What does luck have to do with pigs?”
“I don’t know. I’m not German. It’s just
a German expression.”
Despite how ridiculous it sounded to me,
I decided to incorporate this phrase into my vocabulary because it was kind of
cool. Or so I thought. Over the next few days I found many occasions to use it.
Unfortunately, my wife overheard me using it, and most of the time told me that
the way I was using it made no sense.
After about a week of hearing about the pig I have
had, my wife gave me a look when I again told someone, “Ich habe Schwein gehabt.” I have stopped using the expression, but I haven’t
forgotten it.
_________________________________
To
purchase the book, send a note to orders@msipress.com, tell us that you
read the excerpt here, and why you like the book. We will give you a
10% discount and free shipping (in the US). Those who live outside the
US can get a better deal by purchasing from the Amazon online store in
their part of the world.
If you prefer to purchase from Barnes & Noble, click here.
If you prefer to purchase from Amazon, click here.
