If you think learning stops when your formal education ends, you’re wrong. It’s a lifelong process, especially if you want to have a meaningful life that makes an impact on the world.
Over the last six months as we’ve lived abroad in Ljubljana, Slovenia, we’ve stumbled through a few hours of Slovene language class each week with a tutor. It’s not our primary focus while we’re here, but it’s been helpful in understanding the world around us and connecting with students.
Practically everyone in Ljubljana speaks English. Only 2 million people in the world speak Slovene, so it means the world to Slovenes when they discover we’re actually attempting to learn the language. They’re honored that we’d invest time to learn their language–especially since it’s not essential to life here.
In fact, that’s the most difficult thing about learning the language: you don’t have to learn Slovene in order to survive.
It’s inconvenient not knowing what everything means at the store or when you suspect people are talking about you on the bus once they hear your North American accent, but it’s equal to the frustration of not being able to find the remote control and having to get off the couch to turn up the TV volume.
It’s a rare exception when I have to push my Slovene language to the limits to communicate something (in which case I string 12 nouns together and make hand motions to communicate). Since everyone speaks English, once I make a mistake using Slovene, people automatically switch to English to help out the gringos.
But that doesn’t actually help. It keeps me from using the language. It keeps me from actually learning.
That’s how I realized the first step to learning anything.
The first essential step in learning anything (and especially a language) is overcoming your fear of failure and accepting that you’re going to completely screw up.
I know it’s necessary, but it’s hard for me to throw myself into the abyss of mistakes. I prefer to do everything well. I want to have my t’s crossed and i’s dotted and when I speak to someone in a grocery story. I don’t want my sentences to sound like a toddler trying to explain astrophysics.
Failing is a fear that isn’t as tangible as spiders or heights. It’s difficult to discern a fear of failure. You don’t always know that failure is the scary monster under your bed (most often in the form of embarrassment) keeping you from learning and doing hard things.
Lately, I’ve tried to just chuck my inhibitions as I slam together whatever words and phrases I know to try to communicate.
Here are two stories for your amusement and encouragement.
There’s a coffee bean grinder at our grocery store. We have our own beans we bought before (because we’re aspiring coffee snobs). I was trying to ask the clerk how much it costs to use the machine if I bring my own beans. I told him I had a question, threw together what made sense in my head based on the English words I would use, and then he gave me a weird look, said a few words I didn’t understand, nodded his head and I said, “Ok.” I have absolutely no clue what the status of using their grinder is now.
I should have asked him to repeat what he said and told him I didn’t understand the first time, but there were a ton of people in line and I didn’t want to cause a riot at our local grocery store. Actually, that’s a cop out. I just didn’t want to embarrass myself.
The next interaction was with my landlord. I wanted to ask him if he could come look at our bathroom because some paint was peeling off the ceiling. He doesn’t speak great English, and I wanted to try my Slovene with him.
I prepared what I was going to say in my head, did a few push ups, slapped my chest and turned on the Space Jam soundtrack and then I asked him the question in Slovene.
His response was, “What?”
That’s not a good response.
I said it again but added the phrase “in the bathroom.” He pieced it together and then took a look, told me he’d take care of it and went on his way.
Once I reflected back on what I asked him, I realized “What?” was a kind reply. I said to him, “Can I see something? Can I see something in the bathroom?” Not exactly the most logical phrase, but I’ve since added the Slovene word for show to my fun-sized vocabulary.
Here’s what I’ve started to do and what I challenge you to consider for whatever learning journey you’re on. When I make a mistake and someone switches to English, I tell them I’m learning Slovene and I’d love it if they’d humor me and keep speaking the language so that I can grow in my comfort of the language. It’s humbling. It’s hard for me to admit I don’t have it all figured out. But it’s the most effective way for me to learn: with practice.
This guy tries to make 100 speaking mistakes a day when he’s learning a language. 100 mistakes a day!? That sounds exhausting. But he says that’s how he knows he’s learning and actually using the language.
If we want to be learners, we must accept that first we’ll be beginners.
This doesn’t just apply to language. It’s the same for Calculus, coding and quantum physics. You’re going to have to sound out the letters, create sites like this, and forget to carry the one for a long time before it all clicks.
Don’t let the fear of failure keep you from learning. Don’t let being a perfectionist (being fearful of making a mistake) or a procrastinator (believing the lie that next time you’ll know enough words to try to speak) keep you from learning.
People who don’t make mistakes don’t learn.
Of course you’ll make mistakes. People may laugh, scowl or generally just be confused, but it’s worth it. Throw caution to the wind, start making mistakes, and start learning.
so true…good stuff!
Thanks, Nick!