Je ne parle pas français

My pre-GCSE self (aka idiot) decided that he hated French and Spanish. My school offered these two languages since year 7 and it is only now that I realise that I was, in fact, not entirely useless at these foreign tongues. In fact I was quite the opposite of entirely useless. In my year 9 French assessments I found myself getting a 7A, which was the equivalent of an A* in year 9. I could semi-fluently tell you about the time, my pet cat and what my future plans were, despite not being able to tell you if I was hungry, tired or if you could take a photo of me and my friends in front of this baguette, please. But despite this apparent proficiency at French, I decided that I hated it. I'm not even entirely sure why. I sat next to one of my close friends in lessons and had a giggle looking for swear words in French dictionaries, I was given the opportunity to go on a languages trip to Barcelona which I loved and managed to hold a conversation with a Spaniard about how they would prefer me to speak in the Catalan language (why my school thought it was a good idea to take a bunch of Spanish speaking kids to a Catalan area I will never understand), and I was good at the language. So, for GCSEs I decided to make a bold move and take a brand new language: German. The reasons for me taking this language were pure insanity. We only had two years to learn a language, most people on my course already had some German knowledge and I was scared of our teacher. However, German turned out to be my favourite lesson. The language, whilst hard to grasp for me, was logical and fun, the class was interactive and friendly and the teacher was one of the best I have ever had and I have her to thank for my final grade in year 11 which, miraculously, turned out to be an A. So I had rediscovered a proficiency for a new language. We went on holiday to Germany that year and I confidently talked to waiters, hotel staff and other Germans about a whole host of things and I was learning new things about the language as I went from place to place.

Shock horror, I didn't take German through to A Level.

To this day I still do not know why I did not go for German. I loved the lessons and the class and by the end I was actually getting quite good and understanding some A Level concepts. So what went wrong? In truth I think it was likely laziness. Languages, whilst being something I COULD do, they were not easy for me. It took a while for my brain to click at varying points for each language whereas with my other GCSE subjects I could float through and get a good grade without much effort (except for maths, that was a logistical nightmare involving many all nighters and a good proportion of stress - but that's another story). Because of this, I went for subjects that I knew I could do well (ie History, English and Music) and neglected languages thinking they were unimportant in the face of Philosophy which was new to me. I got swept up in questioning my existence and having existential crises (these happen quite frequently in Philosophy, particularly when discussing the joyous topic that is oblivion) and I forgot about my love of learning languages.

I regret this wholeheartedly. Languages are a fantastic door opener. My sister has gone on to study languages at Uni and can now babble away in three different languages interchangeably and could go to any French or Spanish speaking country and happily make her way around whilst not panicking about what the abundance of foreign words mean. I regret not pursuing this. Languages are not only a great way to exercise your brain and to branch out into new cultures, but it is also a means to travel. For those of you who have been following this blog (bless you if you do) then you will know that I want to travel. In fact I REALLY want to travel to the point where I am currently sat here with six different tabs open about Gap Year opportunities and a map of France out in front of me and a notepad to plan my next adventure in the summer after my exams. But as I stare down at the contoured paper and endless French cities, I am saddened by the fact there are so many things on this page that I cannot understand. Obviously words such as musique and aeroport are easy enough to understand, but when faced with words such as 'gare' I am completely stuck as to what this word could mean (having looked it up I now know it means train station, I probably could've guessed that by the train symbol).

It is not too late to learn a language for me and I have every intention to try and either recapture my German or French or to learn an entirely new language that could be useful on my future travels. But to those of you who still have that choice to make in school or even in adult life, I implore you to pick up a language or continue a language you are already doing. If you do not regret it now I guarantee that you will regret it in the future.

"The limits of your language are the limits of your world" - Ludwig Wittgenstein