17 So long, English. See ya Next Year!

My desire to explore the world began with romantic ideas about European castles, cobblestone streets, and sidewalk cafes. One summer, I left my mossy Oregon home and flew to Germany for a two-week high school exchange program, an experience that piqued my interest in languages and cultures.

I was still daydreaming about cobblestone streets while I finished high school. I knew I was college-bound, but first wanted to do something that would ground me and give me direction. So, while my friends were writing college essays, I was planning a post-graduation return to Germany, this time for a year.

I can’t say why I chose Germany the first time or why I kept choosing it as the next chapter of my life unfolded. My forward momentum just kept including Germany, almost as if Germany were choosing me.

At age 17, buoyed by my brief high school exchange, and wearing some seriously rose-colored glasses, I went to work as a nanny in Germany. This experience had a profound and humbling effect on me. I expected an extension of my prior fun-filled trip, but quickly realized I was in over my head. With only high school German under my belt, I was 5,000 miles from home, with no support network, and responsible for a child with whom I could not communicate.

I struggled to find my footing in German culture and to master a language that seemed like an unsolvable puzzle. I made countless mistakes and regularly defaulted to English or retreated into embarrassed silence. I understand now how unprepared I was for that experience but at the time, I just felt defeat where I expected success.

When I returned to Oregon, my friends and family were eager to hear my stories, expecting a triumphant account full of castles and cafes. They said, “you must be good at German now,” but couldn’t identify with my struggle to learn it. Those conversations often left me feeling unheard.

After a year of getting my bearings in Germany, I was surprised by this similar sense of unease at home.  My cousin had recently returned from abroad, too, and we discovered that despite having been to two different continents, we had many similar impressions and emotions and could talk for hours. Through sharing stories with her, I learned how much I needed to process my experience with someone who understood.

That fall, I started college as planned. I was surprised to test into advanced German and decided to stick with it because why not? My instructor said I was talented, and in time, I believed her. I worked hard and loved student life. Still, my experiences the year before nagged at me. I wanted to try again and decided to study abroad in Germany for another year.

Reflecting on that third time abroad, one moment stands out: I was on the plane, waiting to begin the long transatlantic flight. It was raining and I watched out the window as wet luggage rode the conveyor belt into the plane. Spotting my own suitcase go by felt like a crossroad and in that moment, I fully committed to making this time different. The promise I made to myself was this: I will not speak English unless I absolutely have to.

What happened next seemed like a miracle. I arrived in Germany and this time, German bubbled out of me with ease as if the ability to speak it had been there, dormant, all along. I thrived that year and returned home to join the National German Honor Society and graduate with a BA in German Language, Literature, and Culture.

I call that airplane moment “So long, English. See ya next year!”

Twenty-five years later, in 2022, I returned to my study abroad site with my nine-year-old son. Stepping off the train, I half expected a flood of memories to wash over me. Instead, it was like a trail of breadcrumbs, one memory leading to the next. With no set agenda for our visit, we allowed ourselves to follow the old memories and make new ones together.

One day, we picked a direction and just started walking. Eventually, we found ourselves in a park that seemed familiar. While my son explored the playground, I remembered studying in that park and realized we were only two tram stops from my old dormitory. We made the dorm our next destination. Standing outside that building, not as a student but as a parent, felt like being in a dream.

Behind the dorm is a lake surrounded by a park with trees that were covered in spring blossoms. Laughing, my son rolled down a grassy hill, while I reflected on how easily I could eventually navigate German language and culture. As we walked around the lake, I felt nostalgic for my time there and deeply content to share my return with my son, who — as only a child can — lives every moment in the present.

With the benefit of time, I no longer see my early struggle to learn German as failure. Instead, I see my younger self as possessing the self-awareness to know what I wanted, the courage to make my own way, and the determination to work through challenging circumstances. Likewise, my later success was no miracle but the result of my own hard work, perseverance, and self-confidence.

Living and studying abroad, with its ups and downs, helped shape the person I am today. I see now that the true value of these experiences came from going beyond my comfort zone and that I am stronger and more confident because of it.

My wish for my son is that he, too, will seize opportunities to challenge himself, because it is when we are uncomfortable, and maybe a little bit scared, that we grow the most. I know first-hand how transformative global experiences are, so when at the end of that memorable day, my son asked, “Mama, can I study abroad here, too?” I replied without hesitation, “Yes, you can.”

About the author

name: Harmony DeFazio

Born and raised in the temperate rainforests of western Oregon, Harmony DeFazio first ventured out from beneath the forest canopy at age 15. What she found was a whole wide world to explore, starting with the farmlands of southern Germany.  A passionate believer in the life-changing impact of intercultural exploration, Harmony has spent time living, working, and studying in Europe and has traveled to South America, Africa, the Middle East, and the Far East. In her role as Executive Director for Study Abroad, Harmony makes it her mission to encourage everyone to study abroad, including her nine-year-old son. Away from campus, Harmony can be found enjoying the great outdoors with her family or lost in a book, where she claims she can live a thousand different lives from the comfort of her couch.