The sophomores, myself included, have been given the chance to experience a world language exchange. Students from France and Argentina came in early April, and the students from Germany came in late April to depart in early May. In spending time around the triangle with my student and her friends from Germany, I kept asking myself asking the same question: what made them want to learn English? I suppose the answer could be the same reason I wanted to learn German: it simply sounded interesting. Though this makes sense for many, the push to learn English is rapidly becoming based around much more than simply an interest in the language. English is ubiquitous.

I had the chance to ask my exchange student why she chose to learn English. I thought she might have a long story about how she gained interest in the language, but she simply replied, “we have to.” She then explained to me that everyone was required to start learning English from the third grade, and that they were offered to start a new language in Middle School. Though surprising, it fit with what I initially thought — the push to learn English is not out of want, but rather out of necessity. My exchange student, Karoline, also explained that there were other reasons she’s glad she had to take English. For example, she attends a school that primarily teaches economics and business. Karoline notes that it is very important for her to know English because economics and business are very worldly topics, and she will almost inevitably end up needing them in her future profession. This makes sense, but I still had a few questions: why must other countries cater to our laziness? Why is there such an interest in English in European and Asian countries, but little interest in foreign language in the United States? Much of this disinterest comes from the notion that the United States is “#1” in the world, and that we will always be that way.

In its glory days, the British Empire was vast and played a large role in spreading the use of the English language. Additionally, many of the inventions that came out of the industrial revolution were made in Great Britain. This prompted the entire industry to be based around English terms for these creations. In addition, many different dialects of English were created through widespread trade. These variations, referred to as “New Englishes”, included dialects like Australian English, South African English, Caribbean English, and South Asian English. The establishment of the United States also played a key part in popularizing English. Our ideals of innovation and superiority drove us to the top in many fields such as aerodynamics and technology (software), and made many of our inventions the backbone for global economies and industries. Thus, entire worlds were based in English alone, and it was expected that the participants learn the lingo of the industry to give the USA recognition for its creation. However; in our haste to become the best, we’ve become accustomed to the world making exceptions and modifications for us. We now expect tourism in every country — whether it be Switzerland or Malaysia — to be based in English so that we don’t have to change our way of thinking in order to simply see another part of the world. But isn’t that part of the fun of visiting foreign countries? It seems that, under America’s selfishness, there lies a deeper problem: we have trouble accepting being uncomfortable and taking chances. I know that when I go to Germany, I’m not going to understand every word that my exchange student and her friends utter to me. But I understand that I have to take a risk and try to speak German in order to get better — I can’t expect everything to fall into place for me if I go into the experience unwilling to try.

Though I can’t attempt to fully immerse myself in a foreign culture and language every day, I like to do it virtually. While playing an online game — Geoguessr — in which you are given a location on Google Earth and must guess where in the world it is, I was placed in a very unfamiliar location (unfamiliar, in the sense that I couldn’t immediately recognize it to be the forests of Western Russia). After several minutes of looking around and finding my bearings in what appeared to be a desolate desert (I was assuming it wasn’t the Sahara), I found a truck stop. It was an eerie echo of one you might find in the American West, complete with colorful signs pointing you in the right way and a gas station from a brand I did not recognize. To my surprise, all of the signs were in English, even though I had quickly decided I was not in an English-speaking country. I mustered up the courage to guess my location on the map. Miraculously, I was correct: I had been placed in the Gobi desert in Mongolia. Maybe it was the industry itself that influenced this odd occurrence of English, or maybe there was another reason. Whatever the reason may have been, it felt strange to see English appear in rural Mongolia.

It’s clear that English has become the language of business, technology, and innovation. But by appearing in some of the most remote locations on the planet, English is beginning to erode the authenticity and beauty of the world’s many languages. We must attempt to control our zealous attitude towards our language and recognize that we could build a much more interconnected society simply by trying to speak with others in their own native tongues – an effort that could help us learn so much about the way the people of our world live together.