Tomorrow afternoon, George and Marta — a couple who study with me — are coming back to our Italian lessons after a two-week break spent in Japan. They started learning Italian not that long ago, from absolute zero, and they study with real motivation, a sense of fun and a very practical approach. In other words, exactly the kind of students I love working with.
They’ve already taken one long break before, over the summer — though on that occasion they managed to practise a little Italian, passing through Piedmont on their way back from a holiday on the French coast. But Japan? Geographically and linguistically about as far from Italian as you can get.
I’m not going to worry about it more than necessary. Taking a break is a normal part of any language learning journey. And since everyone who studies with me does so for pleasure rather than professional necessity, it’s never a real problem if something gets forgotten along the way, or if Italian gets a little rusty — like a bicycle left outside for a few months.
That said, it’s often the students themselves who worry. After weeks of immersion in a completely different language (Japanese, in this case) they can feel the pressure of having to speak Italian again. They think they need to prove something, either to their teacher or to themselves.
Coming back to Italian after a long break is a thing your teacher should take care of. Not just you.
Knowing George and Marta, I don’t think that’s how they’re feeling. And they know me well enough by now to understand that I’m not the kind of teacher who uses guilt as an educational tool. Still, I’ll be using a couple of small techniques to help them ease back in comfortably.
For example, it would be natural to talk about their trip to Japan, but if I simply asked them to tell me what they did and saw, they’d probably freeze. They’d find themselves searching for words they don’t know or can’t remember, feeling frustrated, and in the best case scenario they’d end up telling me about their holiday in English. Not quite the point.
So what’s the solution? Well, as always, there’s no single perfect answer, but here’s what I’m going to do: I’ve prepared a set of sentences describing situations George and Marta might have experienced in Japan. Some are realistic and plausible, others are completely absurd and a little silly. I’ll ask them to confirm whether each thing actually happened. That way, they can use the Italian they already have — without worrying about the words they’ve forgotten or never learned — and share their travel stories with me honestly and without stress.
Breaks are normal. In an ideal world it would be better never to interrupt the learning process, but I don’t like that kind of pressure. People have other things going on in their lives besides Italian and honestly, so do I. What matters is knowing how to handle the return: how to switch the Italian part of the brain back on, without guilt, frustration or embarrassment. Personally, I have no use for any of those feelings.
Have you ever come back to Italian after a long break? Tell me how it went — I’d love to hear about it.
Thinking about picking up Italian again after some time away? Write to me! It’s usually much easier than you’d expect.