Don't Ask Me If I Learn Vietnamese Because of Thuy

Speaking a language is like doing a crossword or sudoku puzzle. There's the fun in making something unclear clear, the logic and associations needed to make the right guess and get the correct answer, and the beauty of a completed puzzle.

When you ask someone if they learn a language because of a woman (or man), you reduce the years of hard work someone put into achieving that fun, logic, and beauty into nothing more than some pursuit of affection from someone else.

As they usually do, a recent conversation with my wife brought new clarity to the issue such that I could finally articulate my own thoughts on the topic.

I thought it helpful to start by waxing nostalgically and sharing with you my history with languages. This will explain how my brain works with languages and why it's so much fun learning them. After that, I'll explain why I cringe every time someone back home asks if I'm married to a Vietnamese when they hear me speak Vietnamese.

French Is My Language Catalyst

Aside from my exposure to Tagalog from my mom and relatives--a language I unfortunately never picked up, much to my mom's dismay--my first encounter with a language took place in 5th grade at John Muir Elementary.

On one particular Monday, my teacher, Mrs. Saunders, brought in a friend who was visiting her from Japan. For the rest of that week, this Japanese friend of hers would teach us about the Japanese language and culture. The students were amused with the distraction from the normal class routine, but I remember being immensely captivated by what we were learning. It was probably the most attention I had paid in class that entire year. I remember keeping the origami we made and calligraphy we drew (we wrote "tomodachi" in kanji using ink brushes).

From that point on, I knew I liked learning a foreign language (in this case, Japanese), but I didn't know that my brain clicked with languages until 7th grade at Asa Mercer Middle School.

I was taking Spanish class at the time. I can't remember the teacher's name, but I remember not being as enthralled with the class as I'm sure I could've been if I wasn't being a typical distracted teenager.

I do remember, however, stopping by Mrs. Jackson's French class to visit with one of my friends during an extended break between classes. I wanted to talk to my friend Andre, but also to catch a glimpse of Mrs. Jackson because she was a lovely woman.

Andre told me that they were going on some sort of a field trip. I turned to Mrs. Jackson and asked if I could come along, knowing full well that the answer would probably be "no" because I'm not a student in her class.

Instead of rejecting me outright, she gave her response in French. What surprised the both of us was that I understood what she was saying on my first try. She didn't have to repeat herself. I understood it because I translated what she said in French into English, and she confirmed my translation.

She said, "Ask your teacher. If they say 'yes,' then you can go."

Now to qualify, Mrs. Jackson was probably using very basic words to get her point across, so it probably didn't take a genius to figure out what she was saying. That said, I was able to quickly draw connections from English and the basic Spanish I knew to do the math and decipher her words.

It's worth noting that the instant gratification I got from her head nods signaling my understanding made learning languages that much more entertaining and exciting for me.

Asian Languages Become My Focus in High School and College

I would have to wait until freshman year at Franklin High School to take Japanese. I aced the hell out of every class throughout all three years of Japanese, so much so that my quarterly grade for each Japanese class was above a 4.0. Yes, I was that student.

I was so absorbed with learning Japanese that I would spend countless hours practicing scripts, writing kanji, and remembering vocabulary. I remember spending my summer vacation waking up early to learn new words on my own. I would write rows and rows of the same kanji just to make sure I could memorize it. Since I lived very far away from my friends and since I didn't have many friends in the area (I lived in Lake Forest Park; I was one of a few minorities in the area), practicing Japanese kept me plenty occupied.

I couldn't get enough of the Japanese language. I would eventually volunteer part-time at a nearby Japanese book and video store. I made a trade with the staff: I would work for free, and they would allow me to rent books and videos for free.

Working there was freaking awesome. I made a lot of great friends who would eventually help me speak Japanese at such a high level that I was able to skip three years of college Japanese and jump right into 4th year Japanese at the University of Washington. That saved me a ton of tuition money!

Coming back to high school, I was increasingly exposed to Chinese (Cantonese and Mandarin) and Vietnamese languages and culture through my circle of friends, with a couple of years of Japanese under my belt, I decided to act on my interest in those languages. In my Senior year of high school, my class load was much lighter because we were preparing to graduate. I used this extra time to work a part time job as a janitor for my dad's side business. I applied my earnings towards enrollment into Saturday Mandarin language school taught by the Yat Sen Association.

Classes were conveniently held at Asa Mercer Middle School, my old middle school. It just so happened that my high school friends Sandra, Jennie, and Deanna were also taking Chinese classes in the same school. I woke up at a ridiculously early hour on Saturday morning just to take three buses to get to Asa Mercer for class. It was totally worth it.

Since I had zero language background in neither Mandarin nor Cantonese, I was placed in the youngest, most basic level of Mandarin. For a while, I was the only student over the age of 13. I would have other older classmates, some of whom I still keep in touch with to this day. (I'm looking at you, Meg.)

I had a lot of Vietnamese friends in Franklin High School, many of whom involved me in a lot of their social activities and Vietnamese club events. I would eventually become one of the vice presidents of the Vietnamese club (coincidentally, Thuy was also one of the vice presidents :), perform the Vietnamese lion dance during the annual cultural celebration assembly, learn how to dance cha cha, and try lots of Vietnamese food.

My close friends Kim, Anh, and Ty were very instrumental in helping me learn about the Vietnamese language and culture. I remember Kim teaching me how to count in Vietnamese during our high school business classes.

I made up my mind that I would study Vietnamese once I got into UW. This would mean that I would have to study Japanese and Vietnamese at the same time. I scored well in both classes.

Not wanting to let my Mandarin go to waste, between my freshman and sophomore years at UW I enrolled in the intensive Mandarin class. This is a summer-only class where UW crams three quarters of of Mandarin into one summer. You're studying Mandarin for four hours a day and you leave with lots of homework to do.

Skipping to the end, I got a 3.8/4.0. Easy-peasy.

I didn't realize it at the time, but I was training my brain to learn languages since I was 14.

I had my way of learning languages all figured out. I invested so much time and effort to the point where I could quickly make connections and use logic, reasoning, and educated guesses to figure words and sentences out with little context or help.

Languages Are My Crossword Puzzle

At first glance, watching someone do a crossword puzzle might seem a bit boring. I challenge you to look at it in a different light. If you've ever seen the recent BBC version of Sherlock, then I'd say that watching someone put clues together to fill in boxes and complete a puzzle is a bit like watching Cumberbatch's Sherlock tie seemingly unrelated clues together into a reasoned solution to a crime.

If you have seen the show, then chances are that you were amused at how his brain worked with such speed and precision. For me, learning languages is just like completing a crossword puzzle--or, in Sherlock's case, solving a crime.

Studying words and grammar is like studying the various clues you use to fill in the boxes.

Using the words and grammar to make a coherent sentence that is understood by another person is like filling in a row of boxes based on a clues you've observed and cross-referenced with one another.

Having a fluent conversation where there is 100% mutual understanding is like completing the crossword puzzle. You will have understood the clues and used enough logic to piece together a tapestry of words that make sense to you and others who hear it.

The fun doesn't stop once you've written the last letter. There is the inherent satisfaction, the continual positive emotional feedback you get by when you complete the puzzle. You look at the puzzle, and you tell yourself "Ha, I got it!"

I have that exact same satisfaction with languages.

Looking back on the instance when I understood what my friend's French teacher was telling me, the instant gratification I felt when she confirmed my understanding never wore out as I continued studying and speaking different languages. When I can communicate something and have the exact outcome I want and originally predicted (e.g. I say "check please" and the waiter gives me the check), the instantaneous positive feedback keeps me going.

To some, crossword puzzles, and any puzzle for that matter, become an art to those who do them long enough. There truly is a bit of mental and intellectual artistry that comes with being able to do the Saturday New Your Times Newspaper crossword puzzle. A person has honed this particular skill to the point where they can complete the hardest of puzzles, and it's most certainly gratifying when they do.

To this extent, language is my puzzle; it's my personal art. I see beauty in refining how one observes clues and use logic in such a way so as to communicate with someone in a different country. There's beauty in the human connection that develops through language.

Thus, I get cross when someone tries to boil down this beauty into some artificial, goal-based assumption that I learned it because of my relationship with my wife.

Don't Ask Me If I Learned Vietnamese Because of My Wife

Getting the question "Did you marry a Vietnamese wife?" or "Did you learn Vietnamese to pick up girls?" is like nails on a chalkboard. I know it's a stupid and a waste of energy and concentration to get annoyed, and I could easily ignore it. However, when that becomes the expected and predictable response from someone who hears me speak Vietnamese, it does start to grate on one's nerves.

Here's are the reasons why I started to snap back at people when they jumped to that conclusion.

1. First and foremost, it immediately disregards all of the aforementioned time and effort I invested into learning the Vietnamese language.
2. It actually diminishes the Vietnamese language into nothing more than a tool to pick up Vietnamese women, which is a pretty shitty thing to do to your own language.
3. It inherently assumes that I'm that guy with an Asian fetish. I want/need to fly over to Vietnam to pick up a girl just dying to get to the States, and I increase my chances of success by learning some Vietnamese. [Side note: One of the students in my Vietnamese class openly admitted that that was his reason for learning Vietnamese...so I kinda get why some would make that assumption. But seriously, don't lump me in with that guy.]
4. It also inherently assumes that Thuy is that girl who was just dying to get to the States, and that she clung to me without the two of us being able to communicate well with each other. I had to learned Vietnamese in order to better communicate with her.

Imagine working endless hours and preparing day after day just to make your way into a prestigious company. Let's say that by coincidence one of your uncles happens to be a well-known, public higher-up in the same company. This, however, doesn't impact your ability to get the job in any way, shape, or form. You are getting in on your own merits. Once you have the job, then imagine if people in and out of the company occasionally asked you "well, so-and-so must've gotten you the hook up, didn't they?"

At first, you'd probably disregard the comment as a cheeky, uninformed assumption by a random person. Perhaps they're making the assumption to confirm a suspicion, or perhaps it's because they are jealous or threatened that you got in on your own merits and didn't need the help from someone who could've given it if you asked.

Regardless of the reason for asking the question or making the assumption, after the 50th person, the question would start to wear on you. You'd get tired of replying with the same answer.

That's how it feels when someone asks me if I learned Vietnamese because of my relationship to my wife who happens to be a Vietnamese woman.

If the person asking me is Vietnamese, then they come across as incapable of comprehending why someone would ever want to learn their language outside of taking their women away from other Vietnamese men.

If the person asking me is non-Vietnamese and is also learning Vietnamese, then they come across as trying to justify why they haven't been able to pick up the language as fast, as though I couldn't possibly have done it on my own accord.

If the person asking me is non-Vietnamese and isn't learning Vietnamese, then they come across as a creeper who associates learning a language only with picking up girls from that country.

A lot of hard work, time, and money went into perfecting this craft, and I've had a lot of fun doing it for the past decade. I'm sure peoples' knee-jerk assumptions and questions will never stop. I just figured that it'd be worth a shot to dive deep into the topic in hopes that those who read it will think twice before connecting languages to the desire to find a partner.