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In the first reading, Gibbons emphasized the importance of the level of comfort when one is learning another language. I agree with that 100% and I think it extends to learning everything. If the student is uncomfortable around their teacher, or even if the "vibes" aren't right between them, there is a sense of hesitation and the student might not learn anything from them. The teacher might not even teach as well as they would with someone who they are comfortable with.
This brings me to the second reading which was by Moll et al. Teachers, researchers, and anthropologists all went out to research how students lived in their households. People are usually the most comfortable where they live. so they tried to combine the two by studying how students learned at home and figuring out a way to bring in that method of learning into the classroom.

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Throughout the reading of Gibbons "Scaffolding Language and Learning" their were many great topics brought up. Ont thing that stood out to me was the mention of treating students especially ELL students as people that can become anything they want as long as they have the support system that believes in them. Teachers need to allow their students to succeed rather than have fail at their education. Their are many different views on teaching, one where the student is an empty vessel to be filled with information. And the other is when the student is placed in the center of the learning system. Both of these ideas do not help those students that are ELL. In the second reading however a Translanguaging classroom really helps those students of ELL, it is a organized classroom that can have a powerful learning environment to those student that are bilingual. This term and concept is very interesting and I think will overall help those students that fall behind because the are ELL.

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Throughout Gibbons reading I found myself interested in many of the concepts mentioned. The first thing that stood out to me was the idea that it is easier to talk with someone we are comfortable with when learning a new language rather than someone we consider a 'stranger'. I think this is a idea that we as education students should hold onto, it is important that all students feel valued and comfortable within a classroom because this allows for a safe space to learn. The idea that language varies based on context is also a challenge for students learning a second language. Before reading reading this article this is a concept that rarely crossed my mind. This reading made me realize that it is often a simple task to understand a situation but not always so easy to articulate what is understood.

For the second reading I chose was The Translanguaging Classroom. In this reading the idea of a teacher and student working together to create a classroom that practices in creative and critical ways caught my attention. This is a term I have never heard before and I was completely new to the topic. I enjoyed that the article provided examples of this experience from the perspective of the student as well as the teacher.

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I thoroughly enjoyed Gibbons' chapter on scaffolding learning and language, and the details he elaborates on within the subject of language. Language as it varies according to the situation it is being used in has been a topic that I have vaguely considered over the years, but never seriously dove into or analyzed. Gibbons' reference to Halliday and Hasan's "field, tenor, and mode", also collectively referred to as a "register" of language, greatly widened my perspective on how language is used and manipulated within the classroom. This concept also helped me to understand, in both a broader and deeper sense, more of the demands that emergent bilinguals are placed in when they are in a school with the dominant language being one they may not prefer, know, or be completely comfortable in. Gibbons also draws greatly from Vygotsky's sociocultural theory (unsurprisingly) and his idea of scaffolding and ZPD within the learning environment. While I do strongly agree and believe in their argument that both emergent bilingual students and students whose native tongue is English learn best when they are in a field of high expectations with high support, parts of Gibbons' argument made me wonder just how intricate such an idea it would be to enforce in a classroom where every student has their own unique stance on language. I love the analogy of scaffolding and the practice of it and the ZPD within the classroom, but I also can't help but feel how daunting of a task it must be to possibly consider the individual needs of an entire room full of students who fall differently onto the bilingual (or more) language spectrum, and designing scaffolding exercises or experiences that would be beneficial to both the individual and the class as a whole.

For the second article, I read Garcia's, Johnson's, and Seltzer's piece on translanguaging. I have never heard of the term or concept before, but I was heartily agreeing with many, if not all, of the arguments that these writers were constructing in advocating for the practice of translanguaging within school settings. I appreciated how they described various settings where translanguaging can occur, and found the differences between each classroom, teacher, and curriculum used intriguing and enlightening. One small detail within this article that shocked me was the amount of standards that a curriculum within a classroom must follow, as well as the sheer number of acronyms that exists within the world of education? On another note, what I most appreciated about this article from Garcia et al is their strong implication and argument that building curriculums around students' translanguaging (and, although they never mentioned the term, I do believe they would also consider specific dialects to be of as much importance as an overall language) does not hinder students' education, or their knowledge of multiple languages, as Carla was wrongly taught, but in actuality can lead to a deeper comprehension and greater general knowledge by the students.

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Neat NY Times article on native language and heritage 

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Neat NY Times article on native language and heritage 

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I wanted to share this autobiographical article from today's time on language. I thought it was very insightful and interesting and directly relates to the articles we have been reading about bilingual speaking children and cultural dialects. Here is a quote from the article about using another language to describe terms we don't have in English:

"Kashmiri is a magnificent tongue-twister of a language. And it’s such a reflection of the core values of my people — so sharp, funny and specific — that I end up reaching for it in situations that can’t be described in English."  (Mattoo, 2020)

and another good quote:
"The joy of raising dual-culture children, for us, is about passing down the best of both worlds."  (Mattoo, 2020)

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I'm trying to teach my kids the sharp specificity of my native Kashmiri, even though they don't speak the language.

Credit... Hannah K. Lee

I didn't speak any English when we arrived in Britain from India, so my first week of nursery school was a bust. My teachers radiated sweetness, but that couldn't traverse the fact I didn't speak their language, nor they mine. I was mute and dispirited until that first Friday, when Mum asked how my day was. I looked at her, askance, and supposedly said, in English, "Oh! You no speak English?"

From that first sentence, my adopted language and I tumbled head-over-heels in love. Since then I've taken years of French, majored in Italian and started to study Spanish, forever chasing the high of that original linguistic click. But my favorite language in the world will always be my mother tongue, Kashmiri.

Kashmiri is a magnificent tongue-twister of a language. And it's such a reflection of the core values of my people - so sharp, funny and specific - that I end up reaching for it in situations that can't be described in English. I'll call our toddler a " khin-metz," a snot-smeared, wild-eyed child. " Na ho't kun, te na lo't" ("This has neither neck nor tail") might sprout from my mouth over a meandering book, a toddler outfit or a friend's new weird boyfriend. Then my favorite, " don ech'hin chhum kharan!" ("I hate it with both my eyes!"), which is useful in any circumstance, from decor choices to bad haircuts.

The language, like my family, is wildly affectionate. We might not have the words for "I love you," but my mother greets our kids with a barrage of adoration. " Myon zuv!" ("my life!") she squeals on FaceTime. " Shoosh myon, redhu myon, poot myon! " ("my lungs, my heart, my teeny-tiny baby chick!")

But it's not all smothering tenderness. As a culture that values achievement, we were raised with a high-drama approach to parenting: If a cousin didn't feel like studying, my aunt might say " accha, tel'i dimmuv kitaa'bun naar?" or "great, so should we set the books on fire?" A messy teen, I was daily awarded a "gold medal" in " tsot vahravun," or "carelessly tossing garbage about." On our most maddening days, we might hear " khash kar'ai, " a warning which literally means "I'll cut you." (I swear it sounds much cuter and less murderous in person.)

Mind you, no one ever lifted a finger against us. With that kind of imagery they didn't have to. In my own parenting, I admit that my native tone can sometimes alarm the children. "If you turn that corner, you'll get kidnapped," I toss out, casually. "What!? That's terrifying!" screams my son, screeching his new bike to a halt. Is it? Not to a woman raised with imaginary textbooks aflame, or shrugging off threats of a knifing.

That said, I'm ashamed to say I don't really speak a lot of Kashmiri at home. I understand it completely, but after multiple rounds of unrest and moving around to places with other languages, many of my generation grew up replying to our parents in Hindi or English. Also, because of our exodus, I was raised with a stronger-than-usual emphasis on preserving the culture, the food, the language, and I felt that duty deeply.

Of course this extended to marrying within the community, so I tried to meet a nice Kashmiri boy - I really did. Strangely, it wasn't that easy to find one, working in entertainment, in Los Angeles, in the early aughts. So I met and married a wonderful guy from New York, who doesn't speak one word of Kashmiri (although he'd probably love to), and we speak English together.

The joy of raising dual-culture children, for us, is about passing down the best of both worlds. My husband is Jewish, so when the kids are of age they'll start taking steps toward their bar and bat mitzvahs, a proper training in their Jewish heritage. We've certainly got Kashmiri food, holidays and attire on lock, but I do feel the failure of falling so far behind on the language front - I'm now wondering how to build our children a bridge to the language that I adore.

Normally the kids, ages 2 and 6, could spend a chunk of the summer with my parents, who would immerse them in it. But this summer isn't exactly normal, so any cultural lessons are on pause. In the meantime, I've been watching closely, collecting scraps of evidence that an inherent love of words - any words, even if they're not Kashmiri - will blossom in both of my children.

Between their parents' being writers and the miracle of DNA, I seem to be in luck. "A spectacular baby!" our son called our daughter when he was 4. He tears through his chapter books, bursting into the room, bushy hair on end, to ask for definitions: Perplexed! Secretary! Brassiere! We give him most, and fumfer around others, especially when he gets into the newspaper. He does that thing that all voracious readers do, where he knows how to read a word, and what it means, but not how to pronounce it ("BRACE-ee-uhr!"). I remember being embarrassed by that, because it turns out "misled" is not pronounced MY-zuld, but eventually recognized it as a proud badge of bookworms everywhere. He notices my delight at his verbal curiosity, and plays around with it.

"I need to tell you something the baby does when you're not around." he said to me, solemn, when she was 1. "She makes up long words, and says them in a clear voice."

He knew nothing would make me happier, or more frustrated. There's the sharp, funny and specific that I love.

He also may have willed something into being, because the toddler isn't far behind. She shows a strong preference for the more toothsome parts of the dictionary. The standard "Hi!" and "Dada" quickly gave way to octopus ("oppodippo!"), helicopter ("hakaliko!"), and jalapeño ("jalapeño").

We watch her roll a new word around in her mouth, use it in a brief, take-charge sentence ("Oppodippo, sit, watch me eat oatmeal!"), and then practice it in her crib until she falls asleep. Her bravery in the face of consonant clusters will serve her well, if and when she picks up Kashmiri.

She's even invented her first joke, which you'll have to grade on a curve, because she's a baby:

Knocky Knock!

Who's there?

OK!

In these moments, seeing them delight in using words in a way that is creative and quick-witted, I do feel some inner peace, knowing for sure that I'm raising Kashmiri kids after all. They may not understand the language yet, but there's still time for grandparents and lessons and textbooks. And the other night, as we put the baby to bed, she lay down in her crib, smiled up at Dada, and said, clear as a bell, "Dishwasher." Intention set, she cuddled in with her lovies, to practice her new favorite word. An affectionate, ridiculous chatterbox Kashmiri through and through. Myon redhu, myon shoosh, myon zuv.

My heart, my lungs, my life.

Priyanka Mattoo is a writer and filmmaker in Los Angeles.

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I'm trying to teach my kids the sharp specificity of my native Kashmiri, even though they don't speak the language. I didn't speak any English when we arrived in Britain from India, so my first week of nursery school was a bust.

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In addition to “Scaffolding Language, Scaffolding Learning,” I chose to read, “The Translanguaging Classroom.” I saw a great deal of parallels between the two readings: Mostly relating to the relationships between teachers and their EL learners’ students.  Much is said about the nature of language, second language development and the ways in which teachers can engage and integrate the school content for EL learners.  In the Gibbon’s article I saw that “Julianna” was self-conscious about her English-speaking abilities when she had to converse and show linguistic skills in the classroom environment.  While Julianna was more comfortable speaking with her peers outside of class, she had yet to learn to use the more formal registers required in school. Language, how well and how quickly children pick it up is all a matter of the social contexts that they’re in. A translanguaging classroom reflects our understanding of language use as a dynamic communicative practice. Translingualism has been used by many scholars to refer to the complex language practices of bilingual and multilingual individuals and communities. Students in translanguaging classrooms are referred to as bilingual students. Emergent bilinguals are at the early stages of bilingual development and are officially designated by schools as English-Language-Learners (ELL’s). As a teacher of mostly ELL 4th grade students, I found it rather unfortunate that Carla’s program in bilingual education demanded her to follow a dual language model. Under this model she had to make clear distinctions between English and Spanish and that they could never appear together.  However, despite all her strict rules about English here and Spanish there, Carla encouraged her students to embrace whatever ways that they’re comfortable expressing themselves as.   She then coined the term “Cuentame Algo,” which was described as bilingual storytelling where translanguaging literacy activities took center stage in her classroom.

Just as Carla had made a mistake and for some time went against the learning needs of her ELL students, Stephanie also overlooked the needs of a student. Most, though not all of Stephanie’s students are Spanish speaking Latinos and yet she didn’t realize that her student Marianna was officially considered an ELL. When these students aren’t labeled as ELL’s their bilingualism goes unnoticed. After realizing the capabilities of her students, and recognizing the hardships her students would face trying to be fluent in English, Stephanie also set up her classroom to make translanguaging possible.

An important aspect of both articles is that the teacher learns to cater the content of their curriculum towards the needs of their students. This relationship depends on how the teachers talk to and about their students, and also how the students interact with each other.  I’ll end with a quote from the Gibbon’s article, “Good teachers drive their students to the sky, help them gain confidence but also set them up for success rather than allowing them to fall.”

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Tay Cha Gibbons and translanguaging classroom response