“Easter is a party for to eat of the lamb,” the Italian nanny explained. “One too may eat of the chocolate.” “And who brings the chocolate?” the teacher asked. I knew the word, so I raised my hand, saying, “The rabbit of Easter. He bring of the chocolate.” “A rabbit?” The teacher, assuming I’d used the wrong word, positioned her index fingers on top of her head, wriggling them as though they were ears. “You mean one of these? A rabbit rabbit?” “Well, sure,” I said. “He come in the night when one sleep on a bed. With a hand he have a basket and foods.” The teacher sighed and shook her head. As far as she was concerned, I had just explained everything that was wrong with my country. “No, no,” she said. “Here in France the chocolate is brought by a big bell that flies in from Rome.” I called for a time out. “But how do the bell know where you live?” “Well,” she said, “how does a rabbit?”

Some children grow up in a social environment where more than one language is used and are able to acquire a second language in circumstances similar to those of first language acquisition. Those fortunate individuals are bilingual . However, most of us are not exposed to a second language until much later and, like David Sedaris, our ability to use a second language, even after years of study, rarely matches ability in our first language. There is something of an enigma in this, since there is apparently no other system of “knowledge” that we can learn better at two or three years of age than at thirteen or thirty. A number of reasons have been suggested to account for this enigma, and a number of different approaches have been proposed to help learners become as effective communicating in a second language (L2) as they are in their first language (L1).