Perfect is the Enemy of Good

I have a language exchange partner here in Korea, we study together a few times a week. Half the time we discuss his questions about English, and the other half we talk about mine in Korean. Today I brought a Korean chapter book I've been working on reading, and we read it together, discussing it in Korean. I like it even though it's a little higher than my level - it's a really funny book, it's called 찌장 반장 진짜 반장, "The Chinese black sauce class captain is the real class captain", trust me, it makes sense in Korean. At times the interactions between the mom and son will be so easy I'll glide through a few sentences with no questions, but occasionally the sentences will be so impenetrable that even after looking up words I still have no idea what's going on. While learning language I'm a believer in the importance of input, target language in the form of listening/reading, as a catalyst for learning. I wouldn't go so far as Stephen Krashen to say it's the only thing necessary for language development, but it's definitely essential. Indeed, I believe sometimes input can be more useful than full understanding.

"Perfect is the enemy of good" is a phrase I heard a few years ago that I think really applies here. I had hit one of those impenetrable sentences and 재균, my language partner, was trying as hard as he could to explain it to me. He ran into problems though when his English language ability couldn't help me adequately unpack the Korean sentence. He got frustrated and stubborn - he was determined to help me, determined to unlock 100% of the meaning of the story for me as we proceeded. I suggested we just skip on and get the gist of the rest of the story, and he was surprised. Eventually he shrugged and acquiesced, but I could tell that he'd rather we go for perfect instead of go for good. This is a tendency I've noticed in my students sometimes, and also in myself as I learn languages. Sometimes I'll get a new language study book and want to start from the beginning, completing every page and marveling at my "perfect" understanding of the language. I've known students' mothers who will get angry if their child doesn't return home with every problem on every page complete. The fallacy here is the assumption that a completed textbook, totally understood novel, or flawless rendition of a song denotes any sort of perfect grasp or perfect progression toward understanding of a target language. Languages are vast, amorphous networks of relationships, always changing and never really fully understood even by their native speakers. Instead of going for perfection, my advice is to let your motivation and your passion guide you toward what is interesting to you, what draws you into communication, and what beckons you toward future study. Because more often than not, that textbook whose first few pages you've so flawlessly mastered will soon find its way to a dusty shelf when you lose that initial energy.