Lots of people told me to not study languages – including my own (monolingual) dad. “You’re never going to be as fluent as a native speaker,” I remember him saying when I was deciding on my university degree. “Why bother?”
A little more than a decade later, I’ve collected a wealth of experiences. I’ve staffed Sotheby’s Madrid reception desk, I’ve taught theatre and English to Syrian children excluded from mainstream schools in Beirut. I’ve given a speech on sustainable development goals for Arab audiences at the UN, and I’ve trained journalists in Ecuador’s most dangerous city. I’ve dated men I’ve wanted to, swatted off men who I didn’t, sung songs, cooked recipes, all in languages that are not my native tongue. And most important of all? I’ve changed my dad’s mind.
