I’ve decided to pick up Italian again.
I had a good basis for it, in eight years of Spanish classes through elementary, middle, and high school. Taking voice and learning the classics helped me with Italian, as well, as I had to know both the literal and poetic meanings of the lyrics.
I wrote previously of my trip to Switzerland and Italy. In Italy I picked up Italian with surprising ease, at least in understanding, and a bit in speaking. I could speak with shopkeepers, to an extent, and could understand their responses once I had returned to English. I suppose this ease shouldn’t have surprised me so much, as I was still taking Spanish classes at the time, and Romance languages tend to be similar.
I took two semesters of Italian in college. Those two classes with two different professors were the best language classes I have ever taken in my life. The professors, young and enthusiastic, had a real love for the language, and truly wanted us to succeed. It helped that my stubborn refusal to learn, so prevalent with Spanish, had disappeared. I have Italian ancestry, and chose to take Italian, where I was forced to take Spanish. (I don’t do well with authority, especially with being told or forced to do things – and most especially when being told to do something I had already planned on doing. But that’s another post.) By the end of the second semester, I was writing letters and journal entries in Italian – probably bad, simple Italian, but I was doing it.
It’s been awhile since I have formally taken either voice or Italian. Awhile ago my mother had bought me Italian for Dummies. So, I’ve begun from the beginning. I’m surprised how much I remember.
Apparently I hold low expectations for myself and my abilities.