Americans are not good at learning languages.
Or, more accurately, we Americans have collectively convinced ourselves that language learning is not for us. It’s not our “thing.” It’s too hard, too time consuming. We’re monolinguals, darn it, and the rest of the world speaks English anyway, so why does it even matter, anyway?
Our educational system certainly seems to reflect this sentiment. The American Councils for International Education reported in 2017 that only about 20% of K-12 students are actively learning a world language. (New Jersey takes first place, with 51% of students enrolled in foreign language classes. Arkansas, Arizona, and New Mexico are dragging down our average, tied for last place with a stupefying 9%.)
And while the numbers are mixed when it comes to how many Americans achieve functional fluency in languages they’ve studied in the classroom, anecdotally speaking, most Americans would not claim to be multilingual because of their high school Spanish class. (Looking back, though, mine was actually pretty great. Shoutout to Señor Maxfield.)
Now compare this to places like Europe, where a median of 92% of students are learning a language in school, and things get a little embarrassing for us Americans. But it’s even more striking that we’ve accepted the lie that monolingualism is the norm. A report on the state of languages in the US estimates that over 3/4 of the US population are monolinguals, speaking English only. Worldwide, it’s safe to estimate that over half of the global population speaks more than one language. Americans are the anomaly here.
But hey, let’s be real: as a whole, we seem to be fairly unconcerned with this. Why learn another language when almost everyone knows English, right? Does it even matter?
A Brief History of Mixed Feelings
If you do a quick Google search, you’ll probably find most people agreeing that America has a problem when it comes to language learning. But that hasn’t always been the dominant narrative (and to be fair, it isn’t especially urgent of a concern now).
The US has almost always been trapped in a language-oriented ideological struggle. In the early 1900s, assimilation became a mainstream priority. And we can attribute a lot of that to President Teddy Roosevelt. Here are some spicy quotes from Roosevelt on…
His distaste for foreign language newspapers: “We must have in this country but one flag, and for the speech of the people but one language, the English language.”
His opinion on immigrants who don’t speak English: “Let us say to the immigrant not that we hope he will learn English, but that he has got to learn it. Let the immigrant who does not learn it go back. He has got to consider the interest of the United States or he should not stay here.”
His stance on English-only education in schools: “This is a nation — not a polyglot boarding house. There is not room in the country for any 50-50 American, nor can there be but one loyalty — to the Stars and Stripes.”
Luckily, things weren’t like this forever. One significant turning point was in the 1950s with the launch of Sputnik. Faced with the space age and cold war tensions, Americans suddenly became more interested in becoming globally competitive — and education was thought to be key. In 1965, Lyndon B. Johnson signed the Elementary and Secondary Education Act, which boosted support for foreign language teaching and bilingual education programs. Yay!
But by the mid-1990s, the tides turned again. Bilingualism began to be increasingly viewed as a threat (suspiciously paired with a new wave of immigrants… hm…), and states like Arizona, California, and Massachusetts passed propositions mandating English-only education. (Some — but not all — of these laws have been repealed, and the consequences have been clear.)
And now in the present day, it would be safe to argue that we’re in a bit of a mixed space. We can generally and intellectually argue for the benefits of bilingualism. There are cognitive benefits! It helps us become more understanding and culturally aware global citizens! It give people the edge when it comes to jobs and academics!
But, we also can’t deny the forces that are at play AGAINST learning foreign languages, and let’s be honest: xenophobia and racism play a big role. Teaching, learning, and speaking more niche global languages — especially those that don’t have “elite” status such as say, French — almost feels a little threatening to Americans. It’s as if non-English languages make our society feel shaky and un-American. Whatever happened to our beautiful melting pot of cultures, bound by the social glue of English as a common medium, right?
We need languages (says the government)…
There are some spaces in which this language learning gap is sorely felt. And one of the biggest ones is in our government. Since our post-9/11 era, the American government has made a big push for linguistic proficiency as a crucial part of national security and diplomacy efforts. Recruiting proficient speakers of languages deemed “critical” — like Chinese, Arabic, Urdu, Dari, and more — is a top priority for many government agencies.
But even with massive initiatives like Critical Language Scholarships, Boren Scholarship, Fulbright grants, and more, there are still many hiring gaps to be filled. A 2020 State Department report showed that 15% of language-designated positions overseas were vacant. What’s more, 24% of the people who were staffed didn’t even meet the minimum language requirement. So we certainly aren’t meeting the standard that is needed even for just basic diplomacy.
…but we don’t want your languages (says the government)
Perhaps you’ve been thinking: isn’t America a country that’s built on immigrants? Immigrants who presumably bring their own languages from all over the world, and can serve as an incredibly valuable resource? (New York City alone boasts speakers of over 700 languages - some of which are highly specific, regional languages — and these speakers ALSO carry the specialized cultural knowledge that comes with speaking those languages.)
Despite this, US education policy about multilingual (immigrant) learners is overwhelmingly oriented towards one goal: making them learn English as fast as possible. Even though the research shows that “stronger” forms of bilingual education are best for multilingual learners (in which students’ home languages are utilized and fostered, along with English), the US government mainly supports “weaker” forms that prioritize getting students to learn English as quickly as possible.
And herein lies our paradox. The US is lagging behind when it comes to learning languages, and there have already been consequences. But when students who are fluent in a plethora of world languages arrive in the US, we forget that their language is a valuable resource worth fostering, and we try — consciously or unconsciously — to assimilate them linguistically as quickly as possible.
This paradox is even more deeply rooted than we might anticipate. In the aforementioned State Department report, the writers recommended that “revising security policies that prevent heritage speakers from serving in their countries of origin” could help fill the language-oriented gap in federal government.
When I read this, I immediately thought two things: “WHAT?” and “DUH!” It is shocking to think that policies like this are even in place. A rule banning heritage speakers in places where they can be legitimately useful is not only an inefficient use of our country’s diverse linguistic resources, but ultimately reflects xenophobic sentiments about immigrants and non-English speakers. Are all heritage speakers assumed by default to be double agents with un-American ulterior motives for working in government?
Reframing the issue
Even as society murmurs that Americans need to get better at language learning, and we should prioritize the creation of bilingual, globally-oriented citizens, I think we’re missing an important part of all of this: how do we view people who are ALREADY multilingual? Is it misguided to try and advocate for the importance of learning languages, while not dealing with the fact that our society consistently tells multilingual people (both implicitly and explicitly) that only their English matters?
In the end, I think America’s paradoxical issue with creating bilingual citizens has a potential solution; all we need to do is reframe the issue. Do we still have a problem with learning languages? Definitely. But America also has an issue valuing and legitimizing the languages that people already speak.
It’s a complex topic, and is incredibly tied up in the symbolic power of language in society. I love how Hakuta (2011) sums up this issue: “Society admires the bilingualism of the diplomat but not the multilingualism of the cab driver.” To me, this is something worth deeply grappling with, because it also has the potential to be a solution. We just need to shift our perspective.
Thanks for reading, and I’ll see you next Tuesday!
Great post! In other regions in which people who use English as a second/ third/ foreign language, it seems to be undergoing a "decolonisation" process: getting rid of the colonial ideologies (e.g., colonisers' language great, languages of the colonised bad; our varieties of English deficit). What do you think it may have to do with the mentality of the speakers of English as the first language?
(I'm a Cantonese native speaker, and acquired English as I grew up in my small world of favourite music and English-speaking culture). Have a good day!
If that reassures you, while we have to learn two languages (English and another one) in school in France, most people reach about the same level of Americans' "high school Spanish." What's shocking to me is to learn you don't HAVE to learn one in the US! I was sure you had to and classes were simply badly taught.
The data about the disappearance of heritage languages, though, is really depressing too, although I wouldn't be surprised to see similar data in Europe. Many of my French friends with heritage languages (like Mandarin, Vietnamese, and Khmer) barely know a few words..