My first day in Cannes, France circa January 2010.

Take me back to the summer of 2010. Surrounded and consumed by culture, people, languages and thousands of years of history encircling me, engulfing me, I felt silly, alive and buzzed. I wanted to know everything, talk to everyone, and of course, eat everything.

My sister, Becca (front) and cousins, Liz and Annie, on either side of me.

I was trekking through Europe with my sister and our two cousins. After losing our luggage (more than once) and living off of a few dresses that we all shared along with a single hair brush, I felt like the girl in the traveling pants, although I have to admit I never read the book.

I had just finished studying abroad in Cannes, France and I cannot remember a night where I didn’t fall asleep after thanking the universe, my parents and any god that may have had a hand in helping me get to the Mediterranean for a semester. That moment of clarity in my life was an dream of mine that stems back from sixth grade. On the very first day of an exploratory French class (the course only lasted 40 days of the school year), 12-year-old me felt as if I had joined a secret society. I can communicate with others, if I only memorize their vocabulary and grammatical structures? Count me in! Fast forward again to that summer in 2010, as we made our way through the mountain passes and crossed seas and lakes and ruins, I felt that I was meant for greatness. I still believe I am meant for greatness, but more so to help others achieve their own. I want to change the world and when I think about how I want to do it, I smile because I know I am on my way.

Five years after studying abroad, I was a 27-year-old waitress. After witnessing Europeans seamlessly switch between two, three and even four languages, while integrating themselves into one another’s lives and cultures, I knew what I wanted to do. I left the restaurant, taking my knowledge of languages, teaching, and my experiences as the eldest of five children. And instead of checking off travels and countries I so aspired to explore, I started a program for children where a foreign language (French, Spanish, Mandarin, Italian) could become a second language, without fear or pressure. Today, my business partner and I teach languages to children 2-11 years of age through original music, games, concerts, pretend adventures, crafts, sensory activities and more, so that they are engaged and happy to learn from start to finish.

I love to work with children because their intrigue and enthusiasm for the world makes them the perfect students. Being that I didn’t get to see a second language until sixth grade, I want them to have the opportunities that weren’t available to me. I also want them to see one another, not as a potential threat, but as a fellow people. Of course, as people we are different, but like Nelson Mandela said, speaking a man’s language is a way to connect to his heart. I think about that all of the time. And I believe that when we can’t connect with one another on a language level, we consciously or subconsciously fall vulnerable to labeling people as “other.” I understand why my school district didn’t offer a second language until sixth grade back then. When I moved back to the Philadelphia suburbs following my study abroad, there was no group to be the “other” and I rarely heard anything but English. Yet when I did, I especially loved listening to the children at supermarkets, malls and parks, calling out to one another in Spanish and English. How lucky they were to live in two worlds at once, like superheroes or Jedis. I promised myself that I would gladly take on the roll of a silly-yet-wise Yoda for my students. I don’t want “otherness” for them. We are stronger together and I hope that I can help future generations experience and believe that for themselves. And so I stand here now, their Yoda-in-waiting, ready to help them save the galaxy.