Learning a language other than our native one often feels obligatory, forced upon us by the school system, where our choices are limited—usually to English or German (in Poland) Bilingual households aren’t the standard yet, though with more people traveling, this is slowly changing.
The post-war generation had Russian as their required mandatory language. It was praised as a beautiful, melodic language, and supposedly easy for Poles to learn because of its Slavic similarities. I studied Russian myself and became quite good at it, even winning a competition. Yet, I always felt a certain fear inside when learning Russian; I associated it with commands, reprimands, and shouting. Back then, the Soviet Union was still a “friend” to the People’s Republic of Poland. But later, the narrative changed. Suddenly, history textbooks included the date – the 17th of September, 1939 – the day “the Russians” (the russkies as my grandfather called them) attacked Poland. I felt betrayed, and Russian became a language of betrayal. Out of loyalty to my grandfather, who had to go through two forced relocations from Volhynia and eventually settled near Wrocław, I abandoned Russian. I didn’t want to learn the language of a traitor, nor did I want to feel in that language.
Then came German. I approached it with excitement—something new, different, logical, with a fascinating grammar full of rules and exceptions. But the questions soon followed: “Why do you want to learn German? That’s the enemy’s language. Are you planning to work there? They killed us during the war.” At 16, I still considered studying German. But eventually, being in that language, feeling in that language, began to weigh on me. As I studied my family history, I learned that my uncle had died in the Warsaw Uprising – killed by Germans, my grandmother had fled Warsaw to escape the Germans, and my great-grandmother and aunt were sent to a labor camp in Berlin. How could I study it lightly, without burden, when so much pain had come from that direction?
Thankfully, English was introduced to school when I was 15. What a relief to learn a language without any historical baggage (for Poland, at least)—a language that felt connected to the Western world. TV shows in English were colorful, the series perhaps a little bit unrealistic, but cheerful. English became my first true “foreign” language, bringing me the joy I had longed for. In it, I could feel lightness and happiness.
Learning a language isn’t just about “linguistic skills” (which could be a whole separate discussion on its own)—it also depends on the family environment you grew up in and its history, on your country’s relationship with the language’s origin nation, and on the collective beliefs of the people around you.
Our traumas and inherited patterns can block language learning through loyalty to our ancestors or out of national solidarity. For instance:
– I can’t learn the language, as it would raise my social status—and I can’t have it better in life than my family (ancestors); I need to stay at their level.
– I won’t learn the language, because what if I fall in love with a German (and in the family, there was an unfulfilled love between a German soldier and a Polish woman who was sent to a camp and then killed when someone found out about their forbidden love—in this case, language itself might symbolize a literal threat to life).
– I won’t learn the language because it could lead me to emigration, and for my ancestor, emigration ended in disaster—they worked themselves to the bone, contracted an incurable illness, and died alone without any family support.
– I won’t learn the language because I am a “math person,” like my mom or dad (and if I were to learn both the language and math, I’d be more likely to attend a prestigious foreign university and achieve a higher social status—see point one).
– I won’t learn the language because I might end up moving away for true love (and for someone in my family, such a move ended with broken dreams due to rejection by the lover’s family abroad).
– I won’t learn the language because I don’t want to lose myself or change my identity—who or what will I become? Will people call me “Germanized,” or even worse, “German?” How will they perceive me? Will I be seen as sympathizing with the enemy, or worse, become the enemy?
Being able to feel in a foreign language, to live “in” it, brings a sense of self-agency—especially if one plans to stay in that country. Without that, while living there, a person may feel a lowered sense of self-worth, as if others are conspiring against them or looking at them suspiciously—like experiencing a wartime atmosphere internally. Patterns emerge, where low self-esteem results in problems with your back and anemia becomes a result of internal battles and dialogues. And all of this happens within us. When I opened myself to speaking and feeling in a given language—which was particularly hard for me with German—the world suddenly felt brighter, I gained courage, and I did not have to be visible with my extra weight – I lost some kilograms.
It’s worth looking at language learning through the lens of your heritage, family history, and family dynamics. Sometimes a simple comment like, “You don’t have a talent for languages like your mom/dad/aunt/grandmother, etc.” creates an invisible loyalty—“how can I be better than them and stand out?” So, in loyalty, we hold on to that “lack of talent” to feel accepted. And we stay with our mother tongue, with pride in our eyes, thinking, “I am a true Pole.”
Each additional acquired “foreign” language strengthens our sense of self-agency and self-worth. We become citizens of the world, feeling a greater freedom within.
As a philologist by training and a practitioner of the methods mentioned in my bio, I invite you to a session where we can explore your resistance to learning a given language and see if it’s truly a so-called lack of talent—or perhaps something deeper!
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Book a session with me to go through the beautiful transformations and processes.
Make an appointment for a 30-minute free discovery call – I will tell you how I work and how I can help you:
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