I can read French. I can’t speak it, I can’t write it, and I struggle to understand it when spoken. The reason for this imbalance is simple: I taught myself. As a result, I never expanded my skills into the areas that allow me to express my own thoughts in the language—I can only absorb the thoughts of others.

As I learned French, I made use of many online resources. From webpages that explained grammar and verb tenses to quizzes that reinforced key concepts, I engaged deeply with the material. There are countless programs available to help build vocabulary and grammar knowledge in a new language. Many even include written exercises and pronunciation feedback through speech recognition features.

While these tools are helpful—especially for travel or basic communication—they lack personalization based on the learner’s first language and rarely provide sustained exposure to authentic, real-life conversation. True fluency takes more than structured input; it requires repeated interaction with the language in context. Even living in a place where the language is spoken doesn’t guarantee fluency—it’s entirely possible to get by with just enough to function.

So how do we move beyond this passive model of language learning? The answer is deceptively simple: courage and effort. Communication is a core part of the human experience, and willingly placing ourselves in situations where our speaking and listening abilities are limited can feel vulnerable—even intimidating. But doing so increases our chances of genuine growth in the language and deepens our connections to our communities and to each other. In the end, language is about connection.

I’ve seen the greatest progress in my ESL students when they actively seek out opportunities that push them to use the language. Whether they practice at work, join community groups, or make friends willing to gently correct their mistakes, these learners lean into the discomfort and grow because of it.

I often remind my students—whether they’re in my college writing class or learning English as an additional language—that they have to get comfortable with being wrong. Mistakes are essential to learning, especially when we receive thoughtful feedback or can reference strong models. Classes, tutoring, and language groups provide that guidance and help turn missteps into meaningful progress.

Will I take French classes or attend language events to improve my speaking, writing, and listening? Maybe. For now, reading meets my current needs. If I ever find myself in France, though, I’d absolutely seek out those challenging (and rewarding) experiences. At the moment, I’m exploring new languages—and I look forward to continuing my own journey while supporting you in yours.