Languages are a backstage pass to the world!

My Journey into Languages: From Italy to the World (Part 1). ...or how being chatty turned into a superpower ⚡️

A blog by our KS3, GCSE & A-Level support tutor Sahra

Let me take you back to the start of my language adventure — picture pasta, sunshine, and a very talkative child (me). I grew up in Italy, which meant Italian was my first language. I could roll my R's like a pro and tell you off in full dramatic flair by age three. But at home, things were a little different. My grandparents would always speak to us in Somali — so while my schoolbooks were in Italian, my dinner conversations with my grandparents were a whole different vibe.

Did I understand everything my grandparents said in Somali? Not always. But I definitely understood when I was being told off. Amazing how fast you can learn a language when you're in trouble, right?

Then came a big plot twist — I moved to the UK in Year 7. My English? Let's just say... limited. I had learned it back in Italy, but we were covering the basics — colours, numbers, and enough nursery rhymes to put on a one-woman show at a children's party. But ask me to order chips at a chippy? Not a chance.

Thankfully, I've always been a chatterbox. Seriously — I could talk to a wall if no one else was around. So once I got to school in the UK, I did what I do best: I talked. And listened. And talked some more. And slowly but surely, English started to click. I made friends, I survived my first school lunch queue, and I realised something magical — language isn't just something you learn from a textbook. You live it.

Then came French. Ooh là là. At school, we started French lessons and for some reason, I loved them. Maybe it was the accent, maybe it was the teacher's enthusiasm, or maybe I just liked pretending I was ordering croissants in Paris. Either way, I was hooked. So when it came to choosing my GCSE options, it was an easy decision — I knew I wanted to study languages.

And then came Spanish. In Year 10, I was offered the chance to take it. At the time, I didn't know a single word. Nada. Zilch. But something told me to go for it. I threw myself into it — and surprise, surprise — it didn't feel so scary. Why? Because once you've learned more than one language, your brain kind of becomes a linguistic gym. It's already lifting those grammar weights and running conjugation marathons. Spanish became another beautiful puzzle for me to solve — and I was here for it.

Here's another thing that shaped my love of languages: travel. Every half-term, my parents would take me and my siblings on holiday somewhere new. We became mini explorers — from busy cities to quiet little towns in Europe. But here's the truth no one tells you: not everyone speaks English. Shocking, right? We'd land in a country, all smiles and suitcases, and realise quickly that asking where the toilet is isn't universal knowledge.

That's when it hit me — language isn't just a school subject. It's survival. It's connection. It's ordering food without miming a chicken. I wanted to speak to people, all people, without the stress of Google Translate or elaborate hand gestures.

So that's how it started. Italian by birth. Somali by family. English by determination. French by choice. Spanish by curiosity. And who knows what's next? (Watch out, German — I might be coming for you.)

Fast-forward a few years and that curiosity had turned into a full-on language obsession. I ended up studying Multilingual Studies at uni — French, Spanish, and Italian all at once (because why stop at one when you can have three?).

Then came the best part: the year abroad. Honestly, it was everything I dreamed of and more. First stop — Montpellier in the south of France. Picture sunny cobbled streets, little markets that smelled like fresh baguettes, and coffee breaks that somehow lasted hours (oops).

Then I swapped baguettes for tapas and headed to Murcia in Spain. Cue palm trees, warm evenings, and way too many late-night churros with friends. I learned that yes, you can study in 30-degree heat… as long as you know exactly where the nearest ice cream shop is.

But here’s the thing — it wasn’t just about getting better at French and Spanish. It was about living them. Making friends from all over the world, getting lost and finding hidden spots, laughing in a language that wasn’t mine… and realising it kind of was mine now.

And now? I get to pass all of that on. I teach in secondary schools, filling my lessons with stories, silly grammar hacks, and those “ohhh, I get it now!” moments. Plus, I tutor secondary-aged students, helping them smash their exams and actually enjoy the journey.

Because for me, languages aren’t just something you learn — they’re a backstage pass to the world. And trust me… once you’ve got one, you’ll never want to give it up.

To be continued…