[30% Treasure, 70% Dark History] Part 1: The Tragedy of "Osu" Where I Could Only State Facts

I've prepared a special project to accompany your Sunday! While I usually share stories of my failures in daily lessons, for the month of June, I am starting a 4-part series exclusively on Sundays where I will reveal my "past notebooks." Please enjoy these pages of my study notes, which are both a treasure and a dark history!

Now that I'm in my 50s, I've been gradually decluttering my belongings. In the process, I pulled "something" out from the back of my bookshelf.

This is the "study notebook" I used to write in when I first started learning English. It is the crystallization of my efforts, filled to the brim with things I wanted to say and vocabulary words before my online English lessons.

Reading through the contents of this thick stack for the first time in a while, I couldn't help but laugh to myself. For the current me, these notebooks are "30% treasure, 70% dark history" (laughs).

Today, I'm going to reveal a little bit from those dark history notebooks, specifically from around my second month of English conversation experience.

Here is my answer memo from back then to the question in the textbook: "What is your favorite place in your hometown?"

My favorite place is Osu. There are a lot of shop and restaurant. I often go to shopping. (My favorite place is Osu. There are many shops and restaurants. I often go shopping.)

……Seriously, just a list of facts!!

I want to give my past self a full-force retort. "There are many shops"—what kind of shops? Are they delicious? Are they rare? "I go shopping"—what are you buying? With this, neither the scene nor the emotions are conveyed to the other person at all; I was just a "textbook robot" (laughs).

Back then, I was so desperate to "answer correctly in English" that I didn't have even a millimeter of leeway to enjoy the conversation or share the scene.

■ Two teachers of the same age who changed me

The ones who saved me from being that "script-bound, fact-reporting machine" were two teachers of the same age I was studying with at the time.

One was a Japanese female instructor. Since I had only been learning English for two months, it was natural, but she gave me this eye-opening advice in Japanese.

"If you are asked one question, think of three sentences to answer. And finally, ask back, 'How about you?' That is what a conversation is."

It was such a shock, like being struck by lightning. It's not enough to just answer questions. It only becomes a "conversation" when you play catch with words.

And then, words from another teacher, a British woman, put an end to my "script notebook." This was during a lesson one day, probably about a year after I started English conversation.

"Stop writing your discussion answers on paper beforehand. Because it's strange, isn't it? You wouldn't bring notes to chat with a friend at a cafe. Just go with the flow of the moment. Don't worry about grammar or pronunciation. Just get by with enthusiasm!"

This was advice given in English. While I was happy that I could understand it properly in English, I was also filled with the feeling that she had hit a sore spot and I felt embarrassed.
Even so, women of the same age are the same all over the world—they don't hold back (laughs). But with this loving, sharp critique, I was suddenly awakened.

This heavy notebook, which I clutched tightly to 'avoid making mistakes,' had actually become a 'shackle' that kept me from enjoying conversation. From that day on, I stopped writing answers in my study materials in advance.
Of course, I still prepare thoroughly. Before a lesson, I look up unknown words, read the Daily News article aloud, and search the internet for various things related to the article to get ready. I just let go of 'writing a script'.

■ Where I am now: Being able to talk with nothing but 'enthusiasm'

Several years have passed since then. I have had over 1,200 lessons with Kevin, and even now, my brain panics daily as I continue to update my personal encyclopedia of failures.

Actually, I still take a lesson once a year from that British teacher who once scolded me, saying, 'Speak with enthusiasm!' She is a powerful grandmother with seven grandchildren, and we have a lot in common, such as our love for coffee, music festivals, and going to the theater.

When I took a lesson with her recently, she took one look at the material I had chosen and said sharply, 'You! Why are you choosing such a low-level Daily News article?'

The old me would have been flustered. But the current me, without looking at any notes in my hand, was able to laugh and retort, 'Because I wanted to talk about this news!'

With her laughing and saying, 'Well, alright then,' we spent time talking about the costumes and songs of the musicals we both love, and about rock festivals, without a script—just pure enthusiasm.

The me who used to drone on, 'There is a shop in Osu,' is now making mistakes, but putting my own emotions into it, arguing with my teacher, and laughing together.

Even though my sentences have become longer and more complex, what I want to convey has become much simpler than before, and it is reaching the other person's heart. That is the realization of growth that makes me happier than anything else.

So, I will not aim for perfection from here on out either. I intend to enjoy English with enthusiasm and momentum, 'just like talking to a friend at a cafe.'

[Next Preview]

Next time, I plan to deliver the 'Gyoza Secret Edition,' where I couldn't fit everything I wanted to say into my B5 notebook.

Please look forward to the record of my battle with my overflowing desire to express myself!