For as long as I can remember people (at least the English) have been telling me this. They purse their lips and, in my opinion, babble like fools trying to make me understand the difference. I don't. It all seems the same to me and I've spent too many years trying to understand how little sense certain aspects of English make to even try. Usually I'll just laugh about it, or if I'm feeling particularly sensitive that day, I'll point out what an improvement it is compared to how I spoke before – omitting the articles (especially the definite articles) left, right and centre; dropping an "r" where it shouldn't be and completely failing to grasp the linguistic differences between certain words (there was a beech tree near my grandmother's terrace; and she certainly wasn't impressed when I pointed everyone out and separated the one she had an adorable "bitch" in the garden). Say no to plagiarism. Get a tailor-made essay on "Why Violent Video Games Shouldn't Be Banned"? Get an Original Essay The problems I faced as a child were not unique. I am the product of an English mother and a Yugoslavian father; and although he was born in London, he spent his formative years before my parents' divorce transported between Zagreb and Belgrade. Many of the phonetic sounds found in English and other Germanic languages ​​simply do not exist in Serbian, and since Serbian was my everyday language, the school language; my stepbrothers; games and above all the language of Jana (the woman who took care of me): it was Serbian that I considered myself and it was Serbian that I spoke. It wasn't until I moved to London in the mid-1990s that English really started to make an impression. In an attempt to anglicize me, my Mother not only divorced my Father, but also divorced me from my language. Until then, English had been something of an afterthought: a language I greeted my mother with in the evenings or used if I wanted to watch an American television program. But now, here I was at age six and a half (the half I remember was important) holding Zeko (my stuffed rabbit) thousands of miles from home and wondering where the hell I was and what I had done to deserve this . Zeko is the Serbian word for 'bunny'] I remember that the first few months were very difficult. No one would talk to me, or at least no one would speak in Serbian. "You're the Englishman Alexander!" my mother would say “And in England they speak English!”. The kids at my new school didn't want to play with me and laughed when I mixed up the vowels. Within a few months I decided that I didn't want to be English and that I would leave as soon as possible. Unfortunately, after smashing Svinja (I've always been an imaginative child) I realized it was a paltry £4. 56 plus дин714 did not equal a ticket home. Over time I found myself losing my first language. My mother explains that it was a “necessity,” that if I had been left to my own devices I would not have been able to take full advantage of the educational opportunities that good English proficiency afforded me. Svinja is the Serbian word for "pig". Thanks to that killer mother, I can now confidently say that (barring him) I learned English the most effectively. However, I'm still not sure exactly when and how it happened. However, I have a few theories: one is that the complete acquisition of the English language, in my case, has perhaps produced the phenomenon known as "replacement bilingualism", whereby the first language is completely supplanted through the acquisition of a second. Sometimes I wonder if my Serbian is simply locked away somewhere in my brain. However, regardless of the methods, acquiring English has certainly had a major impact on my learning and the type of teacher II want to be. As a student, I experienced the concept of rote learning: learning through emergence, erasure, and repetition. I believe it is crucial that, as teachers, we understand this concept. Our students may not always be aware of their academic development (just as I was not aware of my English learning), so it is vital that teachers regularly make students aware of their progress. Noting successes and keeping students updated can be both encouraging and comforting, often contributing not only to a better attitude to learning, but also to increased motivation. Building on this, however, I would still ensure that (in the case of EAL students) English was not displacing the ethnic language. I believe few of us understand what is really happening as children learn a second language. In fact, it's exactly the opposite. As the number of immigrants has increased in recent years, there has been growing concern among government officials, educators and the media that these newcomers are not assimilating quickly enough into British society, and language acquisition is at the forefront line in these concerns. We, as educators, need to make sure that when teaching children of immigrants we focus not only on teaching English but also on inclusion – whereby the native language plays as important a role in learning as English. Only through such a process can we prevent the loss of a native language; something that could result in a fractured sense of identity. The DfE expects schools and teachers to implement “effective strategies” to integrate immigrant children effectively into the system. But how should we interpret the term 'effective'? The DfE Key Framework for Stages 1 and 2 states that “teachers should plan teaching opportunities to help pupils develop their English”. But what about maintaining and supporting one's native language? Language is the tool we use to understand the world around us. Using a process of cultural interpretation (which occurs through language) we attempt to understand the situations and events experienced, ultimately seeking to know how we ourselves adapt to the society around us. Only through linguistic diversity can we explain to ourselves and others the richness of cultural expression. It is the means through which identity and culture intersect; and it is also why the loss of a language is so worrying and why stronger measures should be taken by governments, and in particular schools, to protect the minority linguistic rights of immigrant students, because ultimately our languages reveal to ourselves and others both a historical and cultural connection, with the loss of that first language often equating to a similar loss to that of a connection to the past. Without such connections, pupils placed in new societies may one day lose their sense of purpose: “'You know where you come from. If you know where you come from, there are absolutely no limits to where you can go. 'James Baldwin. "Remember: This is just an example. Get a custom paper from our expert writers now. Get a custom essay For many years the loss of Serbian has somewhat undermined my sense of identity and belonging. It's true, with the English becoming dominant I eventually fully incorporate myself into my mother's culture (most who meet me can't see anything other than English until they see my name), yet I can't help but feel that somewhere along the way I lost a part.