The advantages of languages

This prompted me to text my mom to thank her for the language skills that had saved my take-home. I sent her a very earnest, “Thank you for my German.” I did it partly to score points (it did), but mostly because I was grateful, a sentiment that surprised me after having a diet in which Oxenmaul Salat and Leberkase were staples, and years of having to go to German school (a la Greek school in My Big Fat Greek Wedding). I suddenly saw how the practical applications of speaking German extend beyond being able to talk to my great aunts on the phone. I’m bilingual and incredibly fortunate because of it.

This is why the editorial board’s suggestion that we eliminate the language requirement is ludicrous. Every Princeton student should reap the benefits of speaking a second language.

First, learning a new language helps intellectual development and often teaches you about your native tongue. Second, languages are marketable. Nearly every job description lists language skills as a preferred skill — languages not only improve our individual marketability, but also our nation’s marketability.

It seems that we’re handicapped by speaking a prominent lingua franca. Students elsewhere have the advantage of being forced into a state of at least bilingualism. In countries like Pakistan where English is an official language, students are brought up with both English and another language. In small European countries, the educated are fluent in several languages, because languages like Slovene have limited practicality. Switzerland as a country is quadrilingual, and most of its students are bilingual with knowledge of a third language. Being multilingual makes these individuals more flexible in where and with whom they can work, study and live.

But it seems that American students are not making as much of an effort on the language front — or at least, our study abroad habits suggest that we are not as multilingual as the rest of the world. The US hosts 19.0 percent of the world’s mobile students, and 95.5 percent of these students come from countries where English is not the first language — so many of them are fluent in both English and their native language. While we do send more students abroad than we host in the US, 21.6 percent of Americans study in English-speaking countries and thus do not acquire any new language skills.

The editorial board’s suggestion to replace language with culture requirements adds insult to injury. While the State Department recognizes critical languages (Arabic, Chinese, Persian, etc.) they provide no funds for critical culture (No American shall order a cappuccino after 11 a.m.) Another example: to work at the UN you need to know both French and English.

I don’t mean to downplay the importance of culture — indeed, knowing that flowers are only accepted in odd numbers in Slavic countries could prevent an awkward situation with a prospective mother-in-law. Indeed, knowledge of another culture makes a huge difference, whether you’re a traveler or a diplomat. But it seems that we pick up culture in a variety of places anyway. We cover the achievements, social institutions and customs of different countries in history and anthropology classes, and we study the manifestation of culture in literature and arts classes. We also understand it through osmosis, by traveling and socializing with people. Furthermore, to say that language is not inherent in customs and social institutions is a tenuous statement at best — and there is certainly a cultural component in language classes at Princeton.

I agree with the board that our language requirement sometimes comes up short, and that many students come out of it without any real proficiency. Instead of eliminating the requirement altogether, we ought to raise the bar. We should require that students achieve a level of proficiency such that they can comfortably use a second language to read academic literature and engage in sophisticated conversation.

To illustrate the importance of language skills, I will share with you one of the most embarrassing experiences of my life: It was a hot night in southern Italy (where my family is from), so I walked into a restaurant, planning to ask for a glass of peach juice. I ordered a glass of fish juice. The words for peach and fish are very similar in Italian, and I was tired. The bartender looked at me like I had 10 heads, not because of my cultural knowledge inadequacies, but because of my language shortcomings.

Monica Greco is a sophomore from Brooklyn, N.Y. She can be reached at mgreco@princeton.edu.