Teaching a bird to talk is a rather silly undertaking, I think, if one expects one's efforts to result in a conversing bird that is, but the experience of trying is one of the funnest things I have ever done, and I feel like I am learning some things about communication along the way.
First, I have learned that the brain is limited. Obviously, I knew this from my own brain, and it's report cards already. But what I am observing in Fig is showing me something about the way brains adapt to living with limitations, or at least the way our head's break up living through a dangerous day into manageable parcels. A bird is a much more desperate animal than a human. They are living airplanes. So, they can only keep so much fat on reserve. As such, their food bank is small. Finding food is essential, in short order. As Fig's parent, I find that hardly 15 minutes goes by during the day that I don't think about her next snack when I am home with her. The point is that birds have to stay on task, much more so than us humans. Even we don't have it that good (unless you live in America where the majority of us manage to carry around a few extra pounds). I probably go to the kitchen every 10 minutes myself. Probably shouldn't. Anyway, there is a lot of stress in life, and that revolves mainly around the issue of food, and that stress is ingrained in our psyches from past millenia. It would be hard to live with that level of stress all the time. So brains break the day into a schedule automatically. I am sort of keeping tabs on what a Crow's natural schedule is. It is very much more apparent than a human's inner schedule. A Crow's schedule is broken into several distinct parts, which I am only just beginning to map out. It's interesting and exciting, but more interesting perhaps, is that observing this in the Crow has made me more aware of the existence of my own human inner schedule which I have basically ignored since birth. Our brains actually schedules moods, energy levels, and activities in order to break up stress into manageable packets, while ensuring we expend enough energy to find sustenance. If I want to interact with Fig, I have to take these things into consideration, just as I need to choose the right time to chat with my boss. I think this inner schedule gizmo is probably way more important than we consider. Pretty much we simply ignore it in the artificial environment we inhabit now-a-days. Maybe we should not. Maybe we should rediscover it.
Second, teaching Fig, or trying to is making me a better teacher for human kids. I use the same techniques with kids that I use with Fig, and some things I have tried with Fig have carried over to the human classroom. The dual teacher life I lead, animal, and human, has reinforced the technique of starting with simple concepts and gradually increasing the complexity in order to step learners upwards on the learning ladder. For example, as an English teacher, I start with kids by teaching some core vocabulary. Then that progresses to making choices from two. Then choices from three. Then multiple choice. Then fill in the blanks. Then produce original language. It is the same with teaching Fig, though my successes with her language ability have been rather small to this point. More importantly is that she knows when language time is, she gets excited to do it, she enjoys it, and she plays with the language I have introduced in unexpected ways, and more and more she blurts it out before I am asking her for it. That is the same thing I want my human students to do, ultimately, to own, and play with language.
Language itself is a farse. For example, in English, my favorite, we say upwards, downwards, inwards, outwards, forwards, backwards, and sidewards. Wait, rewind. Sideways. You see, it all makes no real logical sense. So, language must therefore be secondary in importance to communication, and that is exactly what language teachers need to remember because not everyone can learn all the words, in fact, no one of us can learn all the words, so it is of uttmost importance that we learn to improvise, and be resourceful, and creative with the tools in our box, and flexible towards other communicators. Perhaps misspelling a word is a clever idea. It might represent progress. We should not laugh; we should open our minds to truly connect and communicate with others.
Thirdly, to expand on the final point above. Fig is limited in what sounds she is able to utter. This is natural, and not to say that she will not overcome all, or some of her limitations with time. I should press on, and motivate her to keep trying, but I should also meet her half way. I started her out with a few words, and commands, gestures, and 13 colors to which I assigned "simple" sounds that I thought would be easy for her. Not all the sounds are in fact easy for her, and she likes some much more than others, but she tries to say all of them. Note, we get a very very limited amount of time to practice each day. What is interesting of late however, is that I am gradually gathering a collection of sounds which are easier for her to say. Most recently I have been introducing and playing with double vowel sounds which were previously left out of her vocabulary list (bracketed words are already learned and/or spoken by Fig:
Below, AIUEO are the Japanese sounds Ah, Letter E, Ooh, Eh?, Oh!
(A), I, U, E, (O)
AA, II, UU, EE, OO (AhAh, EeEe, OohOoh, EhEh?, OhOh, repectively)
AI, AU, AE, (AO)
IA, IU, IE, IO
UA, UI, UE, UO
EA, EI, EU, EO
(OA), OI, OE, OU
Not sure how things will pan out, but I am enjoying the connection, and the playtime with this unfortunate, but lucky Crow.
First, I have learned that the brain is limited. Obviously, I knew this from my own brain, and it's report cards already. But what I am observing in Fig is showing me something about the way brains adapt to living with limitations, or at least the way our head's break up living through a dangerous day into manageable parcels. A bird is a much more desperate animal than a human. They are living airplanes. So, they can only keep so much fat on reserve. As such, their food bank is small. Finding food is essential, in short order. As Fig's parent, I find that hardly 15 minutes goes by during the day that I don't think about her next snack when I am home with her. The point is that birds have to stay on task, much more so than us humans. Even we don't have it that good (unless you live in America where the majority of us manage to carry around a few extra pounds). I probably go to the kitchen every 10 minutes myself. Probably shouldn't. Anyway, there is a lot of stress in life, and that revolves mainly around the issue of food, and that stress is ingrained in our psyches from past millenia. It would be hard to live with that level of stress all the time. So brains break the day into a schedule automatically. I am sort of keeping tabs on what a Crow's natural schedule is. It is very much more apparent than a human's inner schedule. A Crow's schedule is broken into several distinct parts, which I am only just beginning to map out. It's interesting and exciting, but more interesting perhaps, is that observing this in the Crow has made me more aware of the existence of my own human inner schedule which I have basically ignored since birth. Our brains actually schedules moods, energy levels, and activities in order to break up stress into manageable packets, while ensuring we expend enough energy to find sustenance. If I want to interact with Fig, I have to take these things into consideration, just as I need to choose the right time to chat with my boss. I think this inner schedule gizmo is probably way more important than we consider. Pretty much we simply ignore it in the artificial environment we inhabit now-a-days. Maybe we should not. Maybe we should rediscover it.
Second, teaching Fig, or trying to is making me a better teacher for human kids. I use the same techniques with kids that I use with Fig, and some things I have tried with Fig have carried over to the human classroom. The dual teacher life I lead, animal, and human, has reinforced the technique of starting with simple concepts and gradually increasing the complexity in order to step learners upwards on the learning ladder. For example, as an English teacher, I start with kids by teaching some core vocabulary. Then that progresses to making choices from two. Then choices from three. Then multiple choice. Then fill in the blanks. Then produce original language. It is the same with teaching Fig, though my successes with her language ability have been rather small to this point. More importantly is that she knows when language time is, she gets excited to do it, she enjoys it, and she plays with the language I have introduced in unexpected ways, and more and more she blurts it out before I am asking her for it. That is the same thing I want my human students to do, ultimately, to own, and play with language.
Language itself is a farse. For example, in English, my favorite, we say upwards, downwards, inwards, outwards, forwards, backwards, and sidewards. Wait, rewind. Sideways. You see, it all makes no real logical sense. So, language must therefore be secondary in importance to communication, and that is exactly what language teachers need to remember because not everyone can learn all the words, in fact, no one of us can learn all the words, so it is of uttmost importance that we learn to improvise, and be resourceful, and creative with the tools in our box, and flexible towards other communicators. Perhaps misspelling a word is a clever idea. It might represent progress. We should not laugh; we should open our minds to truly connect and communicate with others.
Thirdly, to expand on the final point above. Fig is limited in what sounds she is able to utter. This is natural, and not to say that she will not overcome all, or some of her limitations with time. I should press on, and motivate her to keep trying, but I should also meet her half way. I started her out with a few words, and commands, gestures, and 13 colors to which I assigned "simple" sounds that I thought would be easy for her. Not all the sounds are in fact easy for her, and she likes some much more than others, but she tries to say all of them. Note, we get a very very limited amount of time to practice each day. What is interesting of late however, is that I am gradually gathering a collection of sounds which are easier for her to say. Most recently I have been introducing and playing with double vowel sounds which were previously left out of her vocabulary list (bracketed words are already learned and/or spoken by Fig:
Below, AIUEO are the Japanese sounds Ah, Letter E, Ooh, Eh?, Oh!
(A), I, U, E, (O)
AA, II, UU, EE, OO (AhAh, EeEe, OohOoh, EhEh?, OhOh, repectively)
AI, AU, AE, (AO)
IA, IU, IE, IO
UA, UI, UE, UO
EA, EI, EU, EO
(OA), OI, OE, OU
Not sure how things will pan out, but I am enjoying the connection, and the playtime with this unfortunate, but lucky Crow.
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