
When I was in seventh grade, I took Spanish 1 as an elective class. Sure I could have taken something fun, but I chose the intellectual route. The reasoning was that Spanish 3 is automatically an above level class, which gives you a higher GPA, so I could start that freshman year of high school and have a leg up on people who started Spanish in eighth or ninth grade. It was brilliant, masterful construction on my part (and my mom and aunt's who helped me schedule these classes as if we were plotting a bank heist). Yes, I went against the advice of my guidance counselor--"Don't play the GPA game. You won't win." But I did win, and though I was miserable, taking classes like College Prep and AP Computer Science 2, in the long run...ok, in the long run it was pretty much awful, too.
So, Spanish. I don't know what it is about Spanish textbooks, but they all seem to have been made in the early 80s and never updated (seriously, we always had to learn the Spanish word for "discotech." PS, it's "discoteca.") Each unit we'd learn vocabulary that had no real practical application to the world, or the world in a Spanish-speaking country, unless Spain is filled with carnivals and zoos, because we seemed to learn those words over and over. If I needed directions in Mexico, I couldn't ask, but if I wanted to describe that the ferris wheel was next to the lion tamer, I totally could.
If I had to do it over again, I would petition the school to allow me to take Sign Language. I could totally be one of those people who do the signs in the corner of the tv, or on stage at like, an awards ceremony. It would also prevent me from being in the very familiar situation of Spanish 3-- my teacher had a late night at the discoteca, and instead of teaching, made us listen to Shakira songs for two days straight. Seriously.
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