Language Development for MKs

Jan Dormer


I nervously entered the fourth grade Brazilian classroom, clinging to my dad’s hand until he had to leave. For the rest of the school day I didn’t understand anything said to me, and I spoke to no one. Each day passed in the same way. I copied strange words from the board into my notebook, without knowing what they meant. Neither my teacher nor my classmates spoke any English, and I, having just arrived a couple of months earlier with my missionary parents from the U.S., spoke almost no Portuguese. The teacher yelled sometimes, and I became convinced she was mad at me, though I never understood the words. I sometimes cried myself to sleep, and finally my parents said I didn’t have to go back…