Two Languages, One Voice

This belief comes from my life experiences with bilingualism and living between two languages. Words can heal, connect, and inspire. They can build bridges between people and open doors to new understanding. When I think about literacy, I think about how bilingualism shapes who we are and how learning a second language gives us the courage to grow beyond what we imagine. My story with literacy began long before English ever entered my life, rooted in Arabic, and it continues as I navigate the journey of finding my voice across both Arabic and English.

Discovering My Voice in Arabic

In Arabic, I have always loved to read. I still remember my first book. I started it only because I was jealous of my sister after my mother complimented her for reading. I wanted that same praise, so I picked up a novel to prove I could do it too. What began as competition quickly turned into passion. Before I knew it, I had finished the whole five-hundred-page story. I was around twelve, and I can still remember how it felt to disappear into a book for the first time. That experience shaped my Arabic literacy and helped me discover how language could hold emotion, imagination, and identity all at once.

Since then, Arabic has always felt like home to me. I speak it with pride, and I feel comfortable using standard Arabic when I need to. But my relationship with Arabic grew even stronger in recent years when I discovered something new about myself: I love to write. I learned this during my ACTFL writing proficiency test. I walked into the room and saw a pile of pencils, erasers, and paper. They gave me eighty minutes to write. At first, I thought I would finish early. I told myself I would just write what I know and that would be enough. But once I started, I couldn’t stop. Words kept coming, one after another. I wrote until the time ran out.

That experience opened something inside me. I realized that I had so much to say, and that Arabic writing was another way for me to express myself. After that, I joined a creative writing workshop online. One of the prompts asked us to describe a morning scene in the kitchen on a cold day. It sounded simple, but as I began writing, memories started to appear. The smell of coffee, the warmth of the stove, the sound of my thoughts mixing with the quiet morning air, everything came alive. I found myself connecting emotions, moments, and images from my past into one scene. The instructor told us something that stayed with me. She said that writing is like the ink moving through the pen, and the pen is filled with your feelings and your view of life. When you write, you allow what is inside to reach the surface. That was the moment I truly understood what writing meant to me. It became not just a skill, but a mirror that helped me see myself more clearly.

Navigating English and Finding My Place

My journey with English began differently. Back home, English was part of our school curriculum. I studied it for years and did well in it. I knew the grammar, the vocabulary, and how to write paragraphs and essays. But when I arrived in the United States, I quickly realized that the English I had learned at school was very different from the one people spoke around me. It helped me survive in basic situations, but it did not fit naturally with the rhythm or the culture of daily life.

1. The Quiet Job: At first, I looked for a quiet job where I could work without needing much communication while improving my English. I joined an accounting office that used QuickBooks. The work was good, the people were kind, but everything was about data and numbers. I soon realized that numbers don’t speak or feel. I could finish a project perfectly, yet still feel empty because I wasn’t connecting with people or making a real difference.
2. Recognizing My True Self: I have always been a person who lives through communication. I express myself with my words, my tone, and my feelings. I want my work to leave an impact that lasts. When I thought about the kind of legacy I wanted to leave behind, I knew I didn’t want to be remembered as someone who could process data quickly. I wanted to be remembered for helping others, for teaching, for creating a space where learning feels alive. That is when I started to think about how to return to what I truly loved, education.
3. The Turning Point: One day, a friend of my mother called to tell her that a nearby school was looking for an Arabic teacher. My mom encouraged me to go, even if it was only for practice. I agreed, thinking it would just be a learning experience. I still remember sitting in front of the head of school during the interview. I was nervous and uncertain about my English. During our conversation, she looked at me kindly and said, “Where did you learn English?” Her tone was soft and genuine. She sounded impressed, as if she was happy to see that I was communicating comfortably. She was able to translate my passion for teaching without me using the correct or expected words.

A few days later, I was invited to do a demo lesson. I can still remember how my heart was racing as I entered the classroom. But once I started teaching, everything felt natural. My passion took over. I didn’t have to explain it; it showed in my energy, my smile, and the way I interacted with the students. When I finished, the head of school gave me incredible feedback and told me that I would be receiving an offer soon. That moment felt like a turning point in my life. It was the first time I saw how my voice, even in my second language, could still carry meaning and passion.

When I started working, I faced new challenges. During meetings and orientations, people spoke fast, and I often struggled to follow. I wanted to contribute and share ideas, but sometimes the words didn’t come easily. Still, the people around me were supportive. Some helped me translate phrases or gave me time to gather my thoughts. I began to practice expressing myself more, even when I paused or hesitated. Over time, I found confidence in my voice again. I started to speak up in meetings, share my ideas, and ask questions.

Building Bridges Through Language

After a while living in the United States, I feel glad that I can now say I am able to express myself in English while keeping my Arabic identity alive within it. I can share my Arabic thoughts, my way of thinking, and my sense of literacy through the English language.

I feel more comfortable delivering my ideas and showing my true self through English. Even though I still have an accent, I no longer see it as something that separates me. Instead, I see it as a fingerprint that I leave every time I speak or teach a lesson. It reminds me that my voice carries two worlds and that each word I say connects them together.

Because of that, I have also become more aware of how important it is for people to feel they can express themselves. In my classroom, I try my best to use words from my students’ languages when I can. Sometimes I learn simple words like “raise your hand” or “beautiful smile” in their languages. It becomes a fun and warm moment that makes them laugh or smile. These small moments build trust. They remind my students that language is not a barrier but a bridge between us. Even though I am teaching them Arabic, I also want them to feel proud of their own languages and cultures. I want them to know that every word they speak, in any language, matters.

Looking back, I realize that literacy is not just about reading and writing. It is about the courage to express who you are and the connection that grows when you share your voice. My words, whether in Arabic or English, are a piece of me, a reminder that language, when used with love, always reaches the heart.

Like Amy Tan in Mother Tongue, I learned that language carries emotion and identity. Like Min-Zhan Lu in From Silence to Words, I found strength in navigating between languages. And like Jamila Lyiscott in 3 Ways to Speak English, I see every way I speak as holding its own beauty and power.

The most meaningful literacy lives in those moments of connection and understanding, when words become bridges between people.

Disclaimer: The views and opinions expressed in this blog are those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of Qatar Foundation International (QFI). While QFI reviews guest contributions for clarity and to ensure the content is valuable for our audience, the accuracy and completeness of the information are the responsibility of the author.

References

Lyiscott, J. (2014, February). 3 ways to speak English [Video]. TED. https://www.ted.com/talks/jamila_lyiscott_3_ways_to_speak_english

Lu, M.-Z. (1994). From silence to words: Writing as struggle. College English, 49(4), 437–448.

Tan, A. (1990). Mother tongue. The Threepenny Review, 43, 7–8.

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