Growing up in a bilingual environment, speaking two languages was as natural as eating, drinking, or brushing my teeth. It was simply part of everyday life.
As a child, I had a knack for languages. I could even distinguish between Swedish, Norwegian, and Danish, or Scottish Gaelic and Irish.
Alright, Danny, enough bragging!
I also developed an insatiable curiosity about Asian cultures.
I became fascinated with Bruce Lee from the moment I watched my first episode of The Green Hornet. (Damn, there’s one way to reveal my age! 🤣)
I fell in love with Asian cuisine before I even knew what falling in love meant. I couldn’t get enough of Chinese, Japanese, or Thai food. Naturally, I decided that learning to eat with chopsticks was imperative if I wanted to enjoy these culinary delights properly.
I even practiced at home.
Peas were particularly frustrating! But I got the hang of it…my way.
My fascination extended beyond food. I studied kung fu, particularly Wing Chun, as any devoted Bruce Lee fan might. I explored Tai Chi and discovered a certain auditory pleasure in Tibetan Buddhist chants and Mongolian throat singing.
Yet, despite all this curiosity, I never seriously considered learning a third language.
Not until K-pop crossed my path.
And that’s where an unexpected journey began—one that would eventually influence my entire approach to teaching English.
You see, somewhere along that journey, I discovered something about the relationship between writing and speaking. Something that would take years to fully appreciate.
But I’m getting ahead of myself.
Let’s rewind the VHS.
(😱 There I go revealing my age again!)