Congress Boundestag Language Analysis
During the summer after my tenth grade year, I was notified of my acceptance into the Congress-Bundestag Youth Exchange program. I was overjoyed. I am incredibly passionate about travelling and exploring different cultures. It was a scholarship only awarded to 250 students across the nation. The program was a fully funded year abroad in Germany. I attended a German high school, I lived with a German host family, and I struggled through the challenges of learning the German language. Before my feet touched the German ground, I could only speak two German words. With this exceptional grasp of the language, I set out into the new world that was Germany. I began to discover the great lengths to which we take our knowledge of the English language
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When I left the United States, I was convinced I was ready to live on my own. I believed I was mature enough to succeed without the help of my family or language. I also, very naively believed that I would quickly master the new language without much effort. This naive attitude was quickly adjusted, as I arrived at my host family's house in Nienburg, Germany. My little four-year-old host sister ran up to me and excitedly said something, which I couldn't for the life of me understand, despite my desperation to. She looked up at me with the saddest eyes when I couldn't respond and I felt an awful pang of guilt when I saw the disappointment in her face. This moment, was one of many that showed me the errors in my previous way of thinking.
Despite the fact that I was living with a host family, I was still expected to be very independent. I often traveled on my own, including the time I first met my host family. My exchange program dropped me off at the train station, gave me my ticket, and left me on my own to find my way to my loving family. I remember looking at the ticket (with its many complicated looking connections) and panicking a little. I thought to myself, "this is it, there's no turning back now," and I got on to my first of many trains that
When I left the United States, I was convinced I was ready to live on my own. I believed I was mature enough to succeed without the help of my family or language. I also, very naively believed that I would quickly master the new language without much effort. This naive attitude was quickly adjusted, as I arrived at my host family's house in Nienburg, Germany. My little four-year-old host sister ran up to me and excitedly said something, which I couldn't for the life of me understand, despite my desperation to. She looked up at me with the saddest eyes when I couldn't respond and I felt an awful pang of guilt when I saw the disappointment in her face. This moment, was one of many that showed me the errors in my previous way of thinking.
Despite the fact that I was living with a host family, I was still expected to be very independent. I often traveled on my own, including the time I first met my host family. My exchange program dropped me off at the train station, gave me my ticket, and left me on my own to find my way to my loving family. I remember looking at the ticket (with its many complicated looking connections) and panicking a little. I thought to myself, "this is it, there's no turning back now," and I got on to my first of many trains that