Reflection on self as a language learner

My first memory of learning a language is taking French in high school. It was mandatory for college-prep students to take two years of a foreign language. Looking into my desired future of traveling the world, I supposed that French would be the more useful than Spanish.
I dutifully studied French by the audiolingual method favored by my instructor. I became a good reader and writer of the French language. I could also understand spoken French. However, my ability to speak French left something to be desired. Oh, I knew how to conjugate verbs and I had purposely expanded my French vocabulary. My problem was with pronunciation. I don't know how I sounded, but my speech wouldn't have fooled anyone into thinking I was a native speaker.
I continued my French lessons in college, taking three quarters of intermediate French. When I moved on to French civilization, a course taught exclusively in French by a native husband-and-wife duo, I was in too deep. My friend, Phillippe, helped me to keep my head above water in that class, but just barely. I made it to shore with a "C". That grade was below my standards, so I gave up French.
Since I loved languages, I didn't want to not study a language. I turned my attention to Spanish. I learned by the same method that was familiar from high school. There were no native Spanish speakers on campus. The professor of Spanish was the only person I knew who was fluent. It never occurred to me to engage him in conversation outside of the classroom. My average was a "B+" which pleased me.
I began working for the employment office run by the DC government shortly after graduation. When the head honcho learned that I knew some Spanish, he sent me and another woman to take classes at Berlitz. (He had a plan to provide translation services for Spanish-speaking applicants.) Once more, the old audiolingual method surfaced, but with a twist this time. The instructor wanted us to talk about our everyday lives in Spanish. Whoa! Real conversation? Who knew!
Two years later I took a trip to Europe which included a month-long stay in Spain. My friend and I had to stop in Paris on our way to Spain where I managed to pronounce French well enough to get us train tickets and a meal while we waited for our departure. My lasting memory of that experience was that of the rudeness of the French customer service reps I had to deal with at the train station.
Once I reached Spain I had to speak the language everyday in various situations. I met a woman, slightly older than me, who was from Barcelona. We became traveling companions as I had had to leave my American friend in Madrid while I toured the country. She spoke very little English. Therefore, most of our conversation was in Spanish. I eventually accompanied her home to meet her family. I got to the point where I was even dreaming in Spanish. Now that was a little unnerving because I hadn't expected that to happen.
Once I returned to the States, I didn't use Spanish unless I was in the Mt. Pleasant/Adams-Morgan neighborhood which had become a magnet for Hispanics. Now I find myself using it with my Spanish-speaking students. No full-blown conversations, mind you, just a word or two here and there. Plus, I always select the Spanish language menu at the ATM and I read with interest the signage I see in Spanish.
I believe that my limited acquisition of a second language has given me a perspective that leans toward tolerance and patience with my students. I know it's not easy. I just wish they had more time to acquire it rather than try to reach the standards imposed on them by the school systems.