When I first heard my grandmother couldn’t read, I dragged an ABC book too big for my 5-year old body, plopped down before her, and solemnly requested, “Repeat after me: an apple.” Uproarious laughter ensued, no doubt provoked by the comical scene of a little girl still with a lisp trying to play teacher to a wizened older woman. But when I heard “apple” repeated, I felt bliss. But, for a long time, that was all the teaching and inspiring I did. Then something changed. During lockdown, I craved the opportunity to teach. I scoured the internet to tutor online and found a little-known site called ENGinfor teaching English to Ukrainians. The site coordinator warned me during my interview, “Don’t smile too much. Ukrainians think it’s rude.” “Is not smiling even a possibility for me?” I wondered. Still, I strove to keep a straight face as I entered GoogleMeet, but I was immediately bombarded with my student Artem’s grinning elation. Smiles, instead of being an issue, became a necessity during my lessons. While my first inquiry of the Ukraine-Russia conflict was met with “no one cares about it,” my students now struggle with disrupted schools, dismantled friendships, and an uncertain future. Humor is now a necessity. With a smile, a joke, and a comforting word, I help young Ukrainians establish a strong future in an English-dominated world not only for their success but also the prosperity their success will inspire in the world. While I was supporting other people’s language development, my own passions were unveiled. I relish helping people gain greater mastery of a language, whether that’s by learning to read or speaking more fluently. After spending hours reading research on efficient language learning techniques and immersing myself in Eleftheriou’s theory of language transfer and Krashen’s acquisition-learning hypothesis, I knew Linguistics was the only path forward for me. By continuing my exploration of different teaching approaches as well as strengthening my knowledge base in linguistics at Bucknell, I hope to revolutionize the language learning paradigm in schools and in the wider culture. I hope to discover more efficient ways to master a language, a smarter way to memorize vocabulary, and a clearer way to teach so we can build real, human connections across languages and cultures. My grandest hope, however, is to return to my birth country of Myanmar and help people in similar or worse situations as my grandmother. There are still so many people denied an education and a chance at a better life because of poverty and discrimination. Society in Myanmar still infantilizes disabled people. I know of a boy who can’t talk, and, because of a lack of sign language, can’t communicate with people beyond the rudimentary pointing. This sort of thing is distressingly common, and I want to change it. I want to work directly with these communities to improve societal treatment of disabled people by opening schools and workplaces specifically for them. I want to introduce sign language and Burmese Braille to those who need it. With my training in linguistics, I can make this introduction smoother and easier and give the gift of language to the mute, deaf, blind, and others who currently cannot communicate with their community. When my grandmother began to read, a new world opened up for her. When Ukrainian students improve their English abilities, the international scene becomes more accessible. When a community receives tools to establish a proper relationship with its disabled population, people’s souls light up. The reason I’m so eager to succeed in college and beyond is to facilitate these interactions.

When I first heard that my grandmother couldn’t read, I dragged an ABC book too big for my 5-year old body, plopped down before her, and solemnly requested, “Repeat after me: an apple.” Uproarious laughter ensued, no doubt provoked by the comical scene of a little girl still with a lisp trying to play teacher to a wizened older woman. But when I heard “apple” repeated, I felt bliss. But, for a long time, that was all the teaching and inspiring I did. Then something changed. During lockdown, I craved the opportunity to teach. I scoured the internet to tutor online and found a little known site called ENGinfor teaching English to Ukrainians. The site coordinator warned me during my interview, “Don’t smile too much. Ukrainians think it’s rude.” “Is not smiling even a possibility for me?” I wondered. Still, I strove to keep a straight face as I entered GoogleMeet, but I was immediately bombarded with my student Artem’s grinning elation. Smiles, instead of being an issue, became a necessity during my lessons. While my first inquiry of the Ukraine-Russia conflict was met with “no one cares about it,” my students now struggle with disrupted schools, dismantled friendships, and an uncertain future. Humor is now a necessity. With a smile, a joke, and a comforting word, I help young Ukrainians establish a strong future in an English-dominated world not only for their success but also the prosperity their success will inspire in the world. While I was supporting other people’s language development, my own passions were unveiled. I relish helping people gain greater mastery of a language, whether that’s by learning to read or speaking more fluently. After spending hours reading research on efficient language learning techniques and immersing myself in Eleftheriou’s theory of language transfer and Krashen’s acquisition-learning hypothesis, I knew Linguistics was the only path forward for me. By continuing my exploration of different teaching approaches as well as strengthening my knowledge base in linguistics at Bucknell, I hope to revolutionize the language learning paradigm in schools and in the wider culture. I hope to discover more efficient ways to master a language, a smarter way to memorize vocabulary, and a clearer way to teach so we can build real, human connections across languages and culture. My grandest hope, however, is to return to my birth country of Myanmar and help people in similar or worse situations as my grandmother. There are still so many people denied an education and a chance at a better life because of poverty and discrimination. Society in Myanmar still infantilizes disabled people. I know of a boy who can’t talk, and, because of a lack of sign language, can’t communicate with people beyond the rudimentary pointing. This sort of thing is distressingly common, and I want to change it. I want to work directly with these communities to improve societal treatment of disabled people by opening schools and workplaces specifically for them. I want to introduce sign language and Burmese Braille to those who need it. With my training in linguistics, I can make this introduction smoother and easier and give the gift of language to the mute, deaf, blind, and others who currently cannot communicate with their community. When my grandmother began to read, a new world opened up for her. When Ukrainian students improve their English abilities, the international scene becomes more accessible. When a community receives tools to establish a proper relationship with their disabled population, people’s souls light up. The reason I’m so eager to succeed in college and beyond is to facilitate these interactions.