the former ו־the latter

When Léa and Josh arrived in Israel two years ago, they had two things in common: they were both fifteen, and neither of them could speak more than a few words of Hebrew. Léa came from Lyon, in France, and Josh from Chicago. Today both speak Hebrew well, but they learned it in very different ways.

Léa chose the traditional road. For her first six months she studied at an ulpan, a school for learning Hebrew, five mornings a week. Josh chose a less usual one. He refused to sit in a classroom and instead joined a football team in his new town, where nobody spoke English.

The former method gave Léa a strong base. She learned grammar step by step, and she was soon able to read newspapers and write correct sentences. However, she was shy about speaking. "In class I knew all the rules," she says, "but at the bus stop I froze."

The latter method had the opposite result. After a few months Josh could joke with the other players and argue with the coach, but his writing was full of mistakes. When he started his school's Hebrew literature class, he found it very difficult. "I could talk about anything," he remembers, "but I couldn't spell my own address."

In the end, each of them borrowed something from the other's road. Léa joined a theatre group, which forced her to speak in front of people. Josh took evening lessons with a private teacher, who corrected his writing every week. Both say that this change made the biggest difference.

Experts agree with them. A classroom gives students structure; real life gives them practice and confidence. Neither is enough on its own. The best results come when one supports the other.

When Léa and Josh arrived in Israel two years ago, they had two things in common: they were both fifteen, and neither of them could speak more than a few words of Hebrew. Léa came from Lyon, in France, and Josh from Chicago. Today both speak Hebrew well, but they learned it in very different ways.

Léa chose the traditional road. For her first six months she studied at an ulpan, a school for learning Hebrew, five mornings a week. Josh chose a less usual one. He refused to sit in a classroom and instead joined a football team in his new town, where nobody spoke English.

The former method gave Léa a strong base. She learned grammar step by step, and she was soon able to read newspapers and write correct sentences. However, she was shy about speaking. "In class I knew all the rules," she says, "but at the bus stop I froze."

The latter method had the opposite result. After a few months Josh could joke with the other players and argue with the coach, but his writing was full of mistakes. When he started his school's Hebrew literature class, he found it very difficult. "I could talk about anything," he remembers, "but I couldn't spell my own address."

In the end, each of them borrowed something from the other's road. Léa joined a theatre group, which forced her to speak in front of people. Josh took evening lessons with a private teacher, who corrected his writing every week. Both say that this change made the biggest difference.

Experts agree with them. A classroom gives students structure; real life gives them practice and confidence. Neither is enough on its own. The best results come when one supports the other.

When Léa and Josh arrived in Israel two years ago, they had two things in common: they were both fifteen, and neither of them could speak more than a few words of Hebrew. Léa came from Lyon, in France, and Josh from Chicago. Today both speak Hebrew well, but they learned it in very different ways.

Léa chose the traditional road. For her first six months she studied at an ulpan, a school for learning Hebrew, five mornings a week. Josh chose a less usual one. He refused to sit in a classroom and instead joined a football team in his new town, where nobody spoke English.

The former method gave Léa a strong base. She learned grammar step by step, and she was soon able to read newspapers and write correct sentences. However, she was shy about speaking. "In class I knew all the rules," she says, "but at the bus stop I froze."

The latter method had the opposite result. After a few months Josh could joke with the other players and argue with the coach, but his writing was full of mistakes. When he started his school's Hebrew literature class, he found it very difficult. "I could talk about anything," he remembers, "but I couldn't spell my own address."

In the end, each of them borrowed something from the other's road. Léa joined a theatre group, which forced her to speak in front of people. Josh took evening lessons with a private teacher, who corrected his writing every week. Both say that this change made the biggest difference.

Experts agree with them. A classroom gives students structure; real life gives them practice and confidence. Neither is enough on its own. The best results come when one supports the other.