麻豆传媒高清

鈥淢y English鈥�Little: Finding My Voice Above the Clouds鈥�

By Julian Lusancarez

My story begins the day I decided to come to the United States. I had worked for thirteen years at an airline that had become my whole life. When my contract ended, I did not know what to do next. I moved to Argentina and worked there for another year with the same airline, but eventually the company closed its operations. Suddenly, I was unemployed for a year. That uncertainty is what led me to make one of the most important decisions of my life: moving to Chicago.

When I landed in the United States in 2018, I carried two suitcases, years of aviation experience, and a language I could not yet use. I had left Colombia searching for better opportunities and professional growth. I believed in the promise of a new beginning, but I underestimated how heavy silence could feel when you do not fully understand the language around you.

The airport felt like a city that never blinked announcements echoing in English, fast and fluid, like water rushing over stones. I understood nothing except the urgency in the voices. People moved confidently, answering questions I could not yet ask. Standing in line at immigration, I repeated the only sentence I felt sure saying: “I come from Colombia.” Even that felt fragile.

In the United States, everything felt louder and quieter at the same time louder in noise, quieter in familiarity. Getting my first job in an airline in the United States felt like both a miracle and a test of courage. On my first day, I wore a crisp uniform under bright airport lights reflecting off polished floors. The scent of coffee and jet fuel felt comforting. I knew airports. What I did not know was English.

I still remember my first interaction alone with a passenger. A man approached the counter and asked, “Excuse me, my connection to Dallas has the gate changed?” His words blended. I caught only “connection” and “Dallas.” My mind raced. “I’m sorry,” I said carefully. “My English鈥� little. One moment please.”  I hated that phrase. My English little.  He sighed not cruelly, just impatiently. I searched the screen, recognized “Dallas,” and pointed. “Gate B12. Same. No change.”  It was a small victory, but I felt like I had run a marathon.

At home, our apartment became a sanctuary of Spanish and laughter. My husband and I would sit at the kitchen table practicing phrases I wrote on scraps of paper: “Boarding will begin shortly.” “May I see your ID?” “Have a wonderful flight.” Even my dog, Marcelyn, became part of my routine. She would tilt her head as I practiced pronunciation, listening without judgment.

Being a Spanish speaker in a country dominated by English can feel like living with constant doubt. You measure yourself by pauses and corrections. Once, a passenger laughed softly after I mispronounced “itinerary.” That night, I told my husband, “Maybe I am not good enough for this job.”  He answered with certainty. “You crossed countries. You crossed fear. You crossed language. And you think a word can stop you?”

Something inside me changed. English stopped being a wall and started becoming a door. My coworkers noticed my improvement. “You don’t say ‘my English little’ anymore,” one of them told me, smiling. For the first time, I felt proud instead of ashamed.

There is power in surviving in a second language. Every sentence feels earned. Every conversation feels like climbing a mountain. Eventually, I was not just surviving, I was living. I handled delays, comforted nervous passengers, and solved complicated rebooking confidently.

Years have passed since that trembling sentence. Now, when I hear someone say, “Sorry, my English is not good,” I recognize the fear in their eyes. “It’s okay,” I tell them gently. “We understand each other.”

My journey is not only about learning English. It is about resilience, love, and the courage to begin again. It is about leaving Colombia in search of opportunity and discovering strength I did not know I had.

Today, my story continues in a new chapter. I am now a student at 麻豆传媒高清 University, pursuing a future in aviation. Flying has always been my passion. Before starting college, I studied to become a pilot, driven by the dream of sitting in the cockpit and guiding an aircraft across the sky. Through experience and reflection, I realized that building a solid and sustainable career in aviation would allow me to grow professionally while staying connected to what I love most about airplanes and the world they connect.

When I think about the young man arriving in 2018 afraid, silent, uncertain I want to tell him something: You will find your voice. It will shake. It will break. It will be misunderstood. But one day, it will carry you higher than you ever imagined.