3 Foundations to Learning a New Language

As you know, I publish pretty much everything in both English in Portuguese. What you may not know is that I didn’t actually grow up speaking Portuguese. While my family has roots in Portugal (albeit via South America), my natively-speaking grandfather never taught my dad nor my aunts a word of the language.

At the time he arrived in California, there was even more prejudice against non-English speakers than there is now. And, being only a preteen at the time, he was that more susceptible to the pressure to conform. Portuguese was the language of the old country.

It’s no surprise that, according to my dad and aunts,  my grandfather would often respond to his parents in English, even though they often addressed him in Portuguese. Friends of ours with immigrant parents and grandparents know the drill – it’s not uncommon. But what I think is a bit unusual is that he was vocally against teaching his kids his native language. The concern was that it was be a mark against them, that they wouldn’t be seen as “American,” and he didn’t want them to feel like outsiders as he had. 

So I get that this situation is a bit ironic – my grandfather, who unfortunately passed before I was born – did not want the family speaking Portuguese. And here I am, speaking it and writing it and listening to books on tape in it.

For me, Portuguese is a hugely important piece of our family story and has always been a key part of my personal identity. As a child, at maybe five or six years old, I knew that I simply had to learn it. I felt like I had been cheated out of a piece of myself, in a strange way, and that I had to make it right.

All of that background is to say why, after high school, I went to Lisbon on my own for nearly four months to learn Portuguese. I had bought a language CD that taught me how to say “where’s the bathroom,” “my name is blah blah blah,” and “I’d like three beers.” Needless to say, I arrived in Portugal full of excitement but completely lacking in language skills. Ah, poor, baby Stig. Haha. 

But then again, not “poor, baby Stig,” because not four months later I was back in California, speaking fluent Portuguese with my Brazilian friends. That’s not a lot of time.

So how the hell did I do it?

I’m not a savant by any means. I did take AP Spanish, which helped as much as it hindered.

But there were three mantras that I stood firmly on.

Which brings me to the first point:

1. Get your hands dirty

• You want to learn a new language? Go and learn it. 
• Interpret “go” in any way that works for you. You don’t have to spend an assload of money and time to travel to a new place, although if you can, more power to you. 
• Take a class, yes. But it HAS to be coupled with something less structured so that your brain can learn to improvise and understand nuance. That can mean joining a conversational language meetup, finding yourself an addictive series on Netflix in that language, finding people who post in it on Instagram so you learn the real life stuff.

Back in Lisbon, I had been there for two months when I found myself in the elevator of an apartment building. I was with my friend Manel, who by the name I’m sure you’ve guessed is Portuguese, and one of his neighbors who lived in the same building. The three of us chatted a bit, and the elevator stopped to let out his neighbor. Before leaving, she turned to me and said, “by the way dear, your Portuguese is terrible.” 

Manel and I stood there, shocked, as the doors opened and closed. After a moment, he turned to me, enraged. It may be worth saying that Manel speaks at least four languages, including English that rivals my own. He was incensed that she would say something like that to someone who has only been speaking a new language for a few weeks.

I remember looking at him and saying, “hey, I’ve been in Lisbon for two months. Of course my Portuguese is terrible.”

HA!

But I was right and so was she – my Portuguese was terrible. And it was right where it needed to be!

Which brings me to:

2. You’re going to feel scared . . .

• Yup, you’re going to look awkward.
• You are going to feel like an idiot.
• You’re going to mess up. Probably spectacularly. 

If you’ve felt any of these things, BRAVO. It means you’re stepping out of your comfort zone and that you’re learning. 

Be terrible. It’s a necessary part of learning. Let it happen.

3. … And you’re going to get better despite your fear BECAUSE:

• You are going to become more and more brave.
• Other people’s judgement will become less important.
• You’ll learn from your mistakes, and learn to let them go.
• You’re learning how to communicate with more people, touch more lives, have new experiences, and build bridges across cultures.

I write this to give you an idea of what my story is, as well as to normalize the messy experience of learning a new language. Do I still f up in Portuguese? Oh Lord, all the time. And I’ll keep making mistakes, keep learning from them, and then probably discover new mistakes to make and go through the whole thing all over again. That’s life!

And now? I can’t imagine my life without Portuguese. My husband is Brazilian, we speak Portuguese at home, and naturally, we trained our dog in Portuguese. Forget cotton. Portuguese is the fabric of our lives. It’s a fundamental part of who I am. So much so that if I ever go under anesthesia, I wake up unable to speak English. Seriously. Only Portuguese comes out for a good half an hour. And when I had that accident? I spoke nothing but Portuguese for hours after. Granted, the words were all in the wrong order anyways, but I couldn’t make my brain switch to English. 

Of course everyone’s situation is different – but no matter what your story is or your goals are, what’s important is to acknowledge your achievements, make room for error, and get in there. I promise, it’ll be worth it.

Any tips on learning a new language?

love

Stig.