What My Languages Teach Me About Who We Are
- 22 minutes ago
- 5 min read
In honor of International Mother Language Day
Each year on February 21, the United Nations recognizes International Mother Language Day — a reminder that language shapes how we think, connect, and feel a sense of belonging. (If you're interested in the 2026 theme of youth voices visit the UN website)
For me, this day is deeply personal. So, let me share some reflections.
I am not a native English speaker. Swedish is my mother tongue (and I'm actually half Swedish and half Finnish). So my relationship with language has never been singular.
In high school, I took Finnish as my home language (and as it turns out, Finnish is really a tough language to learn). For some years, my stepfather spoke Portuguese.
English entered my life in late elementary school, followed by French in high school.
And that French became a challenge when I started my first semester at an American university. A language proficiency was required for my major so I had to take some language class (they didn't count my Swedish). So, it seemed easiest to enroll in intermediate French to satisfy that requirement. But, of course it was taught in English. It may very well have been the toughest class I have ever taken.
Imagine learning French grammar through Swedish… and then suddenly analyzing that same grammar through English terminology. It was a three-way linguistic puzzle. Vocabulary collided. Structures overlapped. My brain was constantly translating across systems.
It was exhausting.
And, it reshaped how I think.
As an Example, Have Your Age — or Be Your Age?
In some languages, you have your age.
In others, you are your age.
Have you ever given that some thought?
In English, we make a decision.
In Swedish, we take a decision.
Small differences — but meaningful ones.
Language subtly shapes how we frame identity, agency, responsibility, and time itself.
When Languages Recognize Each Other
One of my favorite linguistic surprises is the word "brandslang". I stumbled on a sign with this word on a visit to South Africa. And, I was so puzzled as it is a word I know and understand. It means “fire hose.” Intriguingly, it exists identically in both Swedish and Afrikaans.
That similarity is not coincidence, I just didn't know. Both languages share Germanic roots. Afrikaans evolved from 17th-century Dutch, while Swedish is a North Germanic language. Both inherited similar vocabulary and the same love for compound nouns.
Brand = fire
Slang = hose (or snake)
Two languages, shaped by different geographies and histories, arriving at the exact same construction: brand + slang.
Languages may diverge — but they remember each other. Isn't it fascinating?
A Multilingual Home
In my own home here in the U.S., we also juggled multiple languages. My three American-Swedish children navigated their immigrant heritage, summers in Sweden to visit with family, also attending the part time Swedish school for young children to connect with roots, culture and language. And, all three also studied additional languages — two learning Spanish, one German.
We debated idioms that don’t translate.
We compared verb structures.
We laughed at how one language allows an expression that another simply does not. Simple words, mix ups and lots of laughter and sometimes also confusion.
Language wasn’t just something we studied.
It was something we lived.
When Language Unlocks Understanding
Through my research in Uganda, I’ve been slowly, very slowly, learning Luganda (one of the many local languages).
It took me far too long to understand how to order local food properly. I knew some of the vocabulary. But culturally, you order your protein in sauce — not just “chicken” or “goat,” but also how it is prepared and shared. Until I understood more Luganda — and the framing embedded within it — I was missing something essential.
Language is never just translation.
It is worldview.
Resilience: A Word, or A Way of Being?
In English, resilience can feel abstract — a personal trait.
In Luganda, resilience is grounded in circumstance.
The word obugumu conveys strength and steadfastness. The verb okugumira means to endure, to persevere, to stand firm — rooted in -guma, to be hardy.
But what has stayed with me most is the phrase:
Okugumira embeera.
Literally: to persevere through a situation.
Embeera refers to circumstances — often difficult ones.
Okugumira is not passive waiting. It is active endurance.
It implies holding composure during hardship. Adapting to difficult environments. Remaining patient without becoming destructive. Staying firm in the belief that circumstances can change.
When someone says, “Nnaagumira embeera” — “I will endure these circumstances” — it carries quiet dignity and hope.
As a public health researcher focusing on global mental health, that framing has stayed with me. We often measure resilience as an individual-level attribute. But language like this reminds me that resilience is contextual. Relational. Situated within lived reality.
A Childhood Dream
When I was young, I wanted to be a flight attendant.
I imagined traveling the world, learning languages, meeting people from every corner of the globe. Language felt like freedom. Like possibility. Like connection. And, being a flight attendant seemed like the only path to live that dream for someone like me.
That dream didn’t come true. But life unexpectedly presented something even more expansive.
Today, serving as a leader in higher education at a globally engaged university, and leading a school dedicated to advancing public health, I am immersed in education, global partnerships, and collaboration with people from around the world. My work takes me across borders. My days are filled with international dialogue. My research connects communities across continents.
So my dream came true in a very different way and has given me so many gifts. And, in part the opportunities that have been presented to me, likely stem from my flexibility as a thinker and my ability to adapt to cultures, listen with curiosity, navigate different languages and build bridges where differences may otherwise divide. These skills build trust and shared understanding.
The Gift and the Responsibility
Being multilingual is not seamless. There are pauses. Words that exist in one language but not another. Moments when your brain needs an extra second. It takes years for most of us to start dreaming in our newly acquired language. It takes years, if not a lifetime, to refine pronunciation, writing, expressions, and idioms. And, English is such a vast language, widely considered as one of the world's most extensive language.
But the reward for learning and persevering is perspective. So let us show grace toward those who are learning a new language. Let us choose to be patient, empathetic and kind.
When you live across languages, you understand that no single one owns truth. Each offers a slightly different map of human experience.
And when a language disappears, we lose more than vocabulary. We lose ways of enduring. Ways of belonging. Ways of hoping.
I once dreamed of traveling the world and connecting through language.
Instead, language became the foundation of how I travel through the world — as a mother, a partner, a scholar, a leader, and a global citizen.
And for that, I am deeply grateful.
And, now - time for some "fika".
"To learn a language is to have one more window from which to look at the world."
– Chinese Proverb
"One who speaks only one language is one person, but one who speaks two languages is two people." – Turkish Proverb
"Those who know many languages live as many lives as the languages they know."
– Czech Proverb