INTERESTING EXPERIENCES IN MY OWN LIFE THAT THE PLAY ENGLISH CAUSED ME TO REFLECT ON

This is one theatre column you won’t read anywhere else because…it’s entirely composed of personal reflections from my own life! I saw the Pulitzer Prize-winning play, English, last week, and although it’s about an ESL classroom in Iran of all places, for me it conjured up more experiences in my own life than any other entertainment before it! How’s that for surprising?!

I had written about them in the first draft of my review of the play, but as they, and the actual review, were getting way too long, I decided to split it up into two articles. The play review is here: itsnotaboutme.tv/news/theatre-english-at-the-wallis, and this one is about the instances from my own life that English made me reflect on while watching it. I hope that reading about mine will do the same for you.

They’re in no particular order. Here goes:

~ I’ve always been fascinated by foreign languages. Out of my entire high school of five thousand students, (don’t ask,) I was considered one of the top thirty language “scholars,” and was therefore given the opportunity to study Latin in addition to my course load of French and Spanish. (You’ve never heard Latin spoken until you’re had your ears assaulted by it with a Brooklyn accent!) All I remember of it now is “Agricolae aquam portant.” (“The farmers carry water.” How often do you think that sentence comes up?!)

~ To follow-up on that thought: I had just told Mr. X this story the day before I saw English, and then a situation in the show—that the students were required to speak English only—let me know how prescient I am! Here ’tis: Even though I was one of those top language students I mentioned, I felt like a fraud; French and Spanish had lost me when they got to the pluperfect tense. By the end of senior year, I was done with them.

But I was required to take a foreign language for my major in college, and the number of terms one had to take was determined by a placement test. For the first time in my life, (and most likely only time,) I thought of cheating, so I semi-jokingly asked my friend Dawn to take the exam for me, so that she’d place the highest and I would have to take only a single semester of Spanish. But then she pointed-out that it wouldn’t be the gift I thought it would be; it would indeed mean that I would have to take only that one semester, (as opposed to four,) but because it would be the top-level class, all the reading, speaking, and exams would be done solely in Spanish!!!

So, I took the placement test for myself, (which I’m sure I would have wound-up doing, anyway, being the rule follower that I still am,) and…I placed the highest! So, in that one college term of Spanish class, I basically understood…nothing. It’s a miracle that I passed.

~ I began my review of English with this little appropriate parable, which I making more in-depth here: After years of being a fan, when I finally met the very outgoing French Olympics-medalist figure skater, Philippe Candeloro, I was thrilled, but a tad surprised by how quiet this wild man was in person! Our mutual friend, Michael Collins, introduced us, and we all embarked on a night of club-hopping, during which Philippe was still not very communicative. And then, at about 2AM, he asked if we could stop into a local French restaurant because he was pals with the owner and some of the staff. They were closing, but threw the doors wide open for Philippe. And they all spoke French and laughed for the next half hour or so. And then…Philippe was a new man! He became the huge personality I had always seen on TV.

As we left, he rubbed his hands together and exuberantly asked me, “Where to next?” At almost three o’clock in the morning! When he had a performance the next afternoon! But, of course I said, “Oui, oui,” and we continued on to very late night, or very early morning, breakfast, where he became a chatterbox. And we’ve been friends ever since. (The funny thing is that he calls me “Miss Talks-A-Lot!” So, in deference to his language, I sign my missives to him “Mademoiselle Parle Beacoup.”)

Equally important to our friendship, that one small episode with Philippe taught me the value of one’s native tongue. I share it whenever I can.

~ Another thing I have in common with the play English is that I was a teacher once upon a time. I come from a family of them. My mother was an English teacher and my father was the Chairman of the Speech Department in a famous New York High School that he actually had attended as a student! I guess he loved that place because he was also the President of the Alumni Association. And just about everyone in my fam is a published writer, as well. [Photo at the top of this page is of Karen Salkin in one of her family’s classes back in the day. Photo by May Rose Salkin.]

I was offered a couple of jobs over the years to teach English as a Second Language, (ESL,) but just could never fit it into my crazy schedule. However, I try my hardest to teach actual English-speakers how to speak better all the time. (If I hear one more person say “me and him,” I’m going to go mad!) But, sadly, people would rather sound like idiots. Oh well. I’ll keep trying.

~ Penultimately, in relation to the play, I made my first Iranian friends when I was just a teenager, in my first summer session of college at URI, and I honestly thought the main dude was a Persian Prince! I still remember his name—Hormadz Naficy. When his family flew out to see him, and invited me for dinner, I felt like a princess. When I moved to LA the following summer, I met more Persian guys, including one who became my first doctor out here.

I have never thought of people from other countries negatively, and I appreciate the knowledge they’ve brought to my life. So to see what Orange Hitler is putting everyone through during his reign of terror is incredibly painful. Not just for me, but for all the normal people in the world. (And yes, I did have to go there.)

~ And this last one is a semi-mind-blower: In my twenties, I had a good friend in LA who, out of the blue, changed her name from Laura to Marjan. And…she was a plain little American southern belle! So, she was far from Iranian. I had never heard of that name before, and had not even since then, but now, in English, not only does the main character possess that moniker, but so does the actress who plays her! Wow. I guess that wonders really do never cease.