English

    Why write bad Latin?

    Anyone who is capable of reading the Latin on this blog will be able to make the same observation of its quality: it is not very good Latin. Apart from a few outright errors, the Latinitas is so low, that reading it is largely a waste of time for those learning Latin. Readers will therefore be relieved to hear that I am not writing in Latin for the sake of producing material for Latin students to read.

    Instead, the purpose of the previous Latin post, as with the similar short journal entries I have been writing privately for a couple of weeks, is to have a way of roughly assessing how the attempted revival of my Latin skills is going. Since taking advantage of the most recent Legentibus Black Friday deal, I’ve read slightly less than 70,000 words of Latin on the app. This is obviously not an enormous amount of Latin, in the scale of language learning. For me, however, that number is an enormous success–I don’t think I’ve read that much Latin in a similar time frame since undergrad. This has been just barely enough material for me to notice, one day in January, that I really had become a little more comfortable reading Latin.

    That’s one of the hard things about language learning: nothing lasting happens fast. The real progress–the kind that doesn’t evaporate after a week or two off–can’t be tracked very well over the short term. I like the ways that the Legentibus setup reminds me of how much I’ve read, and of how far I’ve come. That’s been somewhat useful as motivation. I refuse, however, to set up any goals or track any kind of streak in the app. That sort of thing tends to depress me, by shoving my inevitable failure in my face. It’s also fairly artificial. I would much rather track the actual fact of my learning, than whether or not I showed up to learn precisely when I promised a computer program that I would.

    Unfortunately, assessing language learning is really pretty tricky. I’ve been persuaded by the notion that assessing meaningful production is the least worthless way of trying to keep track of language learning. My rule of thumb with communicative SLA strategies is always, would I do this activity in English? And in the case of my silly little notes about Legentibus, the answer is actually yes. The PhD did finally teach me the value of reading notes. I wouldn’t mind at all being able to look back on a record of what I read, when I read it, and what I thought about it. If I can write that record in Latin–even if the Latin itself is pretty poor–then that is not a meaningless activity to perform in the language. And I’d like to think that progress in acquiring Latin may be a little less nebulous in the act of writing than it is in reading.

    Involving some kind of production in my Latin revival may also be useful in acquisition. I don’t really understand the technical usage of the word ‘noticing’ among SLA researchers (who don’t all seem to agree that the phenomenon described is particularly real or important in acquisition, for what that’s worth). It does seem to be the case, however, that the act of writing forces me to ask questions about communicating in Latin that reading often doesn’t. It also forces me to review sentence constructions that I haven’t seen in a while, since the grammar remains pretty sheltered (almost no use of the subjunctive, for example) in the easy material on Legentibus.

    But why post bad Latin?

    Why not bury it in a dark cave, where it belongs? Why publish it?

    I’ve been astonished to see just how many Zoomers' resilience in handling assignments is just as bad or even worse than my own was. The number of them who just don’t seem psychologically equipped to handle the stresses thereof appears to be enormous. Today is not the day to get into the strengths or weaknesses in The Anxious Generation-style descriptions of the phenomenon. Today, I simply acknowledge what all language teachers know: that the kids these days–bless them–have quite a high chance of going into a mental tailspin or simply cheating their way through assessments (thanks so much for your help with the latter, ChatGPT). Not all of the causes for that are under our control, but some of the solutions may be. We need to be thinking very seriously about both the purpose and practice of our assessments. The costs of pointless or ill-conceived attempts at evaluating acquisition are simply too high to ignore.

    I admit that the other side of this knife is that I am atrocious at keeping up with students' busywork. I’m also pretty bad at keeping up with the important stuff. It’s vital for me to know the difference between the two. If I can be sure that I’m giving feedback to students in a way that really helps them, it’ll be easier for me to get it done. If I know that I’m only grading their tests because The Man expects me to grade their tests…I’d rather find a better way to spend my finite time and rather deficient attention.

    It’s possible that the particular comments I have to make about the available readings on Legentibus (or on LLPSI) may be of interest to Latin teachers or learners. But even if those comments are basically somewhat insipid, I still think it’s interesting to put the theory of ‘routine, meaningful production is the least-worst way to evaluate language acquisition’ to a public test. This sort of little pedagogical experiment is (obviously) the sort of thing that interests me, but it seemed possible that it might interest other teachers who are trying to figure out how to make assessments more useful and more meaningful for their students. Maybe I’m not the only one who’s curious to see what my writing will look like after the next 70,000 words on Legentibus.

    Furthermore, although I am not possessed of a particularly strong desire to teach Latin again, it’s entirely possible that I will find myself doing so. Should such an opportunity arise, I would much prefer to do the job with large quantities of spoken Latin. It’s a little embarrassing to be putting large quantities of bad Latin onto the internet, but I’m sure it will come in handy if I ever find myself with the need to speak the language.

    And as a casual perusal of this site will reveal, I’m also taking the opportunity to dump poor Ancient Greek reading notes on the internet–although we sadly have no τοῖς ἀναγιγνώσκουσιν equivalent. The Ancient Greek notes are for a similar purpose, except that I care much more about developing a decent Greek style someday than a Latin one: I have (you’ll be shocked to learn) strong feelings about the dearth of AG reading material that’s accessible to real beginners, and one of my hobbies is trying to amend that lack. If you spot something offensive in either my Latin or (especially) my Greek, there’s no need to be shy about pointing it out.

    Learned today that GE Lessing (modern discoverer of Archimedes' Cattle Problem) serendipitously relates to underlying questions about faith, proof, and miracles in my thesis. On the one hand, great! more to read! OTOH, oh dear, more to read….

    χαίρετε, ὦ πάντες! So excited to finally have my own website. Can’t wait to start contributing to the wild world of microblogging book reviews in Latin and Ancient Greek!