Can't Learn Everything in an Hour

My best friend introduced me to a video game, and now I'm an addict. Hour-long rounds, with strategy and short-term and long-term game rewards. I'm also competitive as hell, and he was playing the game for a good while before I finally cracked and played a round. Put this all together, and other than the job I do to get money to literally keep afloat, I put the rest of my life on hiatus. Kind of.

But I'm also an addict who knows a thing or two about the neuroscience of video games and media, and awareness of step one of breaking an addiction, and my musing can still go on.

I've got thoughts and Captain's Logs to write, and I'll start first with this: for foundational classes, one day a week might not be enough.

By foundational, I mean classes that get you started in life. English, history, math, science, chemistry - all that good stuff that you get at least two times a week; that's a foundational class. Especially foreign language, if you have personal ties to the second language the school offers. But there's also classes that aim to give you a leg up or light a spark in you for life. Something that hopefully pushes you to think ahead.

And I'm not just advertising when I say that's a business class I teach to kids via Nexplore.

It's supposed to get kids to be entrepreneurial, which in this day and age - and economy - might be pretty important to think about. I hate the hustle culture, but if kids can find a way to have fun, be themselves, and earn money for their future, I'd like to encourage them to pursue it. It's inventing and investing, and as an adult there's a heavy truth to that.

My mom did the same with me when I was younger. She pushed me to be entrepreneurial, to do more than average. I did what I could, given my health and life obstacles. Submitted my writing to competitions, took all the writing classes that took place over the summer at the UW campus; wrote a mountain of persuasive essays to get scholarships for college. Not that they worked, but I did the hustle I could given my mental health and academic life.

I can't say I wouldn't have pushed for myself to do more if I was given a chance to talk to younger me, but I know I was trying my best back then, and I'm stubborn as heck so I'd argue with myself until I was blue in the face.

For the kids in that business class, I'm hoping that I can encourage them to find and pursue a spark. To see a problem that they can fix. I can already say that some of those kids have ideas, and it's rewarding to see them go through the steps to turn those ideas into reality.

Although, those kids are more of the serious ones. Maybe more mature, or responsible - I can't say, but they do the work that I ask them to do during the class, and that is important to me. Especially when kids are, well, kids with short attention spans and probably undiagnosed problems and just plain silly or tired or bored or hyperactive kids. All I ask is they do the work in the packet, think of a product to launch, and go through the steps with me to make it feel like Shark Tank, with blueprints, a financial plan, and maybe a prototype.

It does sound a bit tough, but the coursework is designed to break these lessons into chunks, an hour-long class per week. And while teaching it, assigning the kids homework, and trying to do my best and encourage their best, there's some things that I notice. Like how one class a week isn't enough, or how I should've practiced my Russian more.

These two may sound unconnected, but bear with me.

My mother is from Russia, so I have Russian family members that don't speak English. If you're from an immigrant or multiracial family, you understand that learning that other language feels like a must; an obligation, especially when you have a good relationship with those family members. So it hurt when Russian wasn't a foreign language offered in high school. Or middle school. Or elementary school. Or even college.

Instead, in freshman year of high school my parents encouraged me to learn Spanish for the next three years. I still regret learning it to this day. Not because I hate Spanish, but because I have no personal ties to the Spanish-speaking community. There was nothing to remind me to practice Spanish but my Spanish homework, and nothing to reward me for the efforts but my school grades. I took that class three times a week for three school years, and there was nothing worth saving for myself once I left the campus.

But in middle school and a bit of freshman high school, I was taken to Russian class over the weekend. On a Saturday, when I could have been sleeping in or having fun or something, I was taken to a small school that as far as I remember taught Russian and ballet. I didn't do ballet.

Every Saturday for years. I hated it. Would protest to my parents every time. And I think my protests would have been better heard if I could have communicated the problem more clearly: I didn't know how to memorize a foreign language. I didn't know how to commit it to memory.

But when my family spoke Russian at home, that language at least could stew in my brain, attach itself to objects and phrases and times and words and concepts. Hearing it - being exposed to it - was helpful. It was a big shame the Russian speak was dialed down later on, because I knew I had a better grasp of it when I was younger and my parents spoke it a lot. My American grandparents (on my dad's side) moved in to live with us, and Spanish forced its way into my academic life, and when I finally learned how to memorize a foreign language in a way that worked for me, Russian was no longer so much of a priority because it didn't affect my grades at school and thus didn't so much impact my future.

And my Russian teacher knew it. She got frustrated with me and my lack of practice. I needed a translation for every word of directions she gave in the classroom (though I needed that for Spanish as well) in that foreign tongue, and she accused me of never practicing. Never caring. I knew I frustrated her, and at some point she may have given up on me.

As the student back then, I didn't blame her. Yeah, I didn't practice a lot. I was cocky in my ability to memorize things, even though I experienced no ease at all in trying to memorize Russian. And yeah, I didn't care as much, because I had school and other things to care about. And it was the weekend; I shouldn't have been in school anyways. I found the class to be a waste of time, especially when I had Spanish homework and English homework and math and history and everything else-homework waiting for me at home, and I wanted to procrastinate on those things too.

As a teacher now, I don't blame her for her actions. For what was probably her annoyance, frustration, and eventually maybe apathy. Because I was the problem student, and I was the one who didn't seem to get it. She had asked me to my face if I even cared about the class. If I even tried to practice Russian at home. Not that I would ask my students anything like this now, but I'd understand just how much frustration she had to ask this bluntly.

The way I see it, there were a couple solutions to this problem that if implemented, would have made my life smoother in this regard. If I was taught how to memorize foreign languages sooner, I would have been able to keep more of that information in my head when I had the classes - though this requires that I would be able to be aware of that particular problem, instead of thinking something was wrong with me and my brain or that I'm just not trying hard enough and why can't I do better? Troubleshooting as a kid can be a challenge.

I could have had more Russian speaking at home, for the exposure. Yes, this is a dig at my parents, and they themselves have admitted to wishing they'd done more there. I just agree with them, and wish for a Time-Turner.

And finally, if Russian was a foreign language offered by my middle and high school. It would have been good for the influx of Russian kids, but most importantly it would have exposed me to the rules of that language at least three days a week. I would be hearing it at home and school, speaking it at home and school, and learning it at home and school. Doing the class once a week was in no way enough, especially when it was a foundational class.

The way I see it, the business class I'm teaching is also foundational because it prepares the kids for reality. For when they grow older, graduate middle school, high school, maybe college, and have to join the ranks of the working class. When they have to take responsibility for their own groceries and meals and bills. When they have to think about taxes. Having an idea of how to make a name for yourself and launching yourself into society prepared for that onslaught of responsibility is important. It's certainly better than being punched in the face with these responsibilities later on.

But the class is only once a week, and an hour long. That is, if I get the students to work with me, and not annoy or disrupt each other. It's an uphill battle.

Do the students listen or care? Maybe some of them. I'm hoping if I can relate the work to other classes they have, or to real life applications and problems like I'm supposed to, they'll take enough interest to keep something in their minds. That's all I can do for my part with the tools I'm given.

The next part is for the parents. I hope they encourage their kids to take interest, to keep at the work.

Or at least, to watch Shark Tank. That's the homework I gave the kids and the parents. Exposure to such business, product, and pitch talk. Exposure to the art of making and selling and branding.

Hopefully both parties will do their homework. I won't know until next week.