Written on 14/8/2023
Late in the afternoon in Manila at the end of July, rain poured down under Typhoon Doksuri. I was sharing a few beers with a Filipino friend in a cozy bar.
At our age, children are always a topic that easily brings a sense of mutual understanding. I boasted, “My kid often plays online games with kids over here.” My friend smiled, “Yeah, probably to learn English, right?”
For the past few years, the Philippines has become a familiar destination for Vietnamese people to study English, both online and offline. Filipinos’ English proficiency also stands out compared to other ASEAN countries, since English has been an official language there since the late 19th century, back when the United States still colonized the archipelago.
In our generation, we experienced the transition from a subsidized (centrally planned) economy to a market economy and understood the importance of English, especially for the first wave of Vietnamese working for Western companies when Vietnam opened its doors. The salary was in dollars, and the working conditions and benefits were Western standards that made our friends admire us. But behind that, there were hidden pains of "illiteracy".
During our time, Russian was the dominant language. From middle school to high school, the textbooks for us math-focused students were translated from championship exams in Moscow and Minsk. In university, we had Russian textbooks for specialized fields, printed on rough paper, sometimes with visible wood fibers on the pages. If there was any social use of the Russian language, it revolved around unfamiliar topics, but we rarely had the opportunity to practice it.
English came to us through the seductive melodies of groups like Boney M. and Modern Talking, but it was still too distant for malnutrition students like us, unaware of what the future held.
Every meeting, every training session in the company was a nightmare for us. We could partially translate the documents with discreet dictionaries stuffed in our bags, but nothing helped us understand what the boss was saying. The transition from American accents, melodic British accents to the unique vernacular of Filipinos, Indians... all sounded sophisticated to us. The only thing we could do was nod in agreement, trying to keep up with the rhythm, and go home sweating, wondering what the boss had said.
Our generation not only said yes because of our limited English but also found it difficult to say no because we had to fit into a monochrome society. Being obedient and good students meant only trusting what our teachers told us. We focused on solving math problems, obediently writing essays according to the provided templates, and our personal thoughts were always buried deep within us, safely hidden in the collective shell. Very few dared to express personal opinions.
Interestingly, our generation started saying no when we became parents. With the power of parenthood, we imposed our thoughts on the next generation, unhesitatingly saying no to our children, suppressing any opposing opinions, seen as deviating from the norm.
I knew nothing about the band Blackpink until the controversial PR campaign in the media and social networks, but I wasn't surprised to see a flood of criticism from the younger generation. I believe that most of the negative comments came from the yes yes generation.
Having spent our childhood sitting on the ground watching movies in the village communal house, our ears accustomed to hearing "30 minutes of folk songs and traditional music," we, the "yes, yes" generation, might feel irritated and disgusted by the millions of dong ticket prices, the excessive behavior of young people towards foreign singers, the dances that don't resemble those of traditional Vietnamese singers, and the songs that "sound like punches to the ears."
The generation gap has widened and accelerated with the widespread use of English among young people. English, as a global lingua franca, has always been a fundamental and important means of connecting youths, creating their own world.
In today's era, any high school student with a smartphone can access a more diverse and abundant source of information than all the students of the yes yes era combined. With proficient English skills, the perspectives of young people have surpassed the limitations of village life, immersing themselves in cultural diversity and the flow of abundant information. It contributes to shaping their individual awareness, affirming their identity.
There will be instances of crowd psychology or the excessive enthusiasm of some individuals. There will be times when a child knows the shade of their idol's lipstick better than the dark circles under their parents' eyes. However, the empathetic "yes" of the preceding generation is truly necessary, like a sturdy anchor that keeps young people connected to the family instead of pushing them away.
Returning to the story with my Filipino friend and the question of whether my child wants to learn English, I shook my head.
My child and their friends are no longer part of the yes yes generation. They belong to a new generation, different from the previous one, and they are growing up.
New Words:
Deviating from the norm = lệch chuẩn
monochrome society /ˈmɑː.nə.kroʊm/ = xã hội một màu
Global lingua franca = Ngôn ngữ chung toàn cầu
archipelago /ˌɑːr.kəˈpel.ə.ɡoʊ/ = quần đảo
English only becomes truly proficient when society as a whole acknowledges and uses it.
ReplyDeleteAt present in Vietnam, we rarely use English in daily communication or at work, so no matter how good one’s English is, it can gradually fade. What really matters is proposing solutions to bring English into everyday life—that would be truly great.