Light dimly reflects off of the cold, hard desks as voices echo throughout the room. The desks are aligned in the shape of two 'U’s,' one inside the other. In front stands a small, fairly stout woman who, at best, reaches 4’10". With one arm extended towards a group of fifteen students, she says, "¡Espero que ellos hablen en español, no en inglés, chicos!"

It’s a phrase she says practically every day countless times; however, more than half of the students don’t have a clue what it means. The expression I find on people’s faces is only all too familiar in regard to my Spanish class. Eyebrows are furrowed in confusion, and some ask the simple, dumbfounded, "¿Qué?" Others, however, quickly avert their eyes to the floor, afraid that Señora has just asked a question that needs an "español answer." The fact of the matter is that in all seriousness—despite that this is our third year of the language—most of Señora’s students know no more than simple words and phrases, such as the ever-so-frequently-spoken "¿Qué?" "¿Cómo estás?" and "¡Que triste!"

So there Señora stands in all her might before her students, as she mutters an "Ay, ay, ay" at the evident "¿Qué?" etched onto her student’s faces. Again, she repeats her statement from before, albeit, this time much slower (in hopes that her students will grasp the concept). "Subjuntivo, chicos!" she reminds us. "…Espero que," she begins, "ellos"—at this, she moves her index finger across the class body—"¡hablen en EPAÑOL! No en inglés." Some of the doltish are clever enough to understand, though, an air of confusion continues to weigh heavy for most. At this, Señora appears to have given up. Her face is frazzled while her hands are thrown up in the air and then proceeds to tug on the ends of her grey hair—a clear sign of defeat for the poor teacher.

"¡Espero que ellos hablen en español, no en inglés, chicos!"

I should know what this means, yet I sit there like I always do: elbows resting on top of my desk as my left hand props my head up. Struggling to keep my eyes open, I yawn and agree as I mumble, "Sí, sí, Señora."

But I haven’t a clue what she has just said.