Every so often, people ask me what I studied. When I answer French and Russian, the usual reaction is one of surprise given today’s political context but also curiosity: their interest is piqued as to why I chose to spend 4 years learning languages and how I utilise them in my career. I relish the opportunity to tell them about my experience: I am passionate about French and Russian but also about the importance and benefit of learning languages more broadly.
I fell in love with French at school, thanks to a brilliant teacher who inspired me with her passion for the subject. She decorated the classroom to look like a French bistrot and when it was someone’s birthday, would make lovely chocolat chaud! My infatuation with Russian began when I realised what beautiful sounds the language had, and how much literature and theatre there was to explore. I did a research project alongside my A-levels, looking into the interplay between Russian, Hebrew and Yiddish language and literature in the late 19th and early 20th centuries.
At Oxford, one of the main ways I was able to nourish my fascination with and deepen my knowledge of French and Russian was through literature. Through reading Chekhov’s short stories, Zola’s novels, Petrushevskaya’s biting satires and Beckett’s existential plays, I developed an understanding of 19th-century Russian history, an insight into French politics and class relations and grasped a little of what post-Soviet urban and family life were like. Germinal struck me, with its searing portrayal of the miners’ poverty and oppression, as did The Time: Night (Vremya:Noch in Russian) because of its harsh yet poignant depiction of family life and the breakdown in relationships. The depiction of the lack of support for vulnerability is something which resonated with what I saw when I went to Russia. Having a sister with a disability, I am attuned to issues around that and I was confronted with the absence of any visible disability on the streets. Russian society is not currently built to support people with such vulnerabilities in the community. Our own relationship with disability has many flaws but it was interesting to see the differences in societal approaches!
Tutorials proved particularly good for opening up insights into other cultures: an expert encouraged us to air our ideas and then challenged them and pushed us to think afresh. Having gone in with a few thoughts on the language and politics in the work of André Gide or Kamel Daoud, I would often find myself emerging after the tutorial with completely different ideas and an altogether deeper understanding.
My year abroad was integral to developing cultural understanding and insight. It was one of the best years of my life thus far. My elderly landlady in Yaroslavl’ took time to show me the wonders of Russian literature and culture and gave me cooking lessons—I never could get my dumplings folded in exactly the right way! I spent many an evening watching State TV with her. I started to gain an understanding of the mindset of the Russian state towards Ukraine. TV presenters portrayed the Ukrainians as fascists with Nazi ideals. This gave me a better understanding of the dynamics of the relationship and context to grasp the tragic invasion of Ukraine by Russia. An anniversary celebration of the annexation of Crimea in the local town square gave me a sense of the national sentiment about Ukraine and Crimea.
Sharing and imbibing culture through food was an integral part of my time abroad. In Lille, I tried French and other Francophone cuisines and made traditional ‘English’ meals for my hosts. On an infamous occasion, trying to recreate light and fluffy scones from a Mary Berry cookbook I only succeeded in producing hard round bullets! An English cooked breakfast was more successful: the children wolfed down the sausages and bacon!
The cultural understanding that living abroad provided me with was extremely beneficial in my first job with a charity looking to tackle human trafficking. My language skills were quickly put to use after the tragic invasion of Ukraine. The team decided to put together online safety information for people fleeing Ukraine, which explained how to minimise their risk of being exploited. This risk always increases during a conflict: traffickers seek to capitalise on people’s vulnerability. As a significant proportion of the population in the east of Ukraine speaks Russian as their first language, I translated our materials into Russian, so that more people could access the vital support.
My knowledge of French and Russian culture and language has proved advantageous in other scenarios. I was volunteering at a community food project when two clients came in, speaking Ukrainian. They could not speak English, so I tentatively (mindful of the politics and sensitivity of the war) asked them whether they spoke Russian. A smile came over both their faces – yes they did, and were thrilled that someone could speak to them in a language they could understand. They were refugees from the east of Ukraine unable to understand the help offered and concerned about how to use a food bank. I was able to explain this to them in a language they understood and listen to them reminisce about life back home. Thanks to having experienced food from the region and having some understanding of the culture, I was able to make them feel at ease and could partake in conversation with them.
During my master’s degree in international relations I wrote my dissertation on the way in which Putin differentiated his interactions with foreign leaders based on his view of masculinity and femininity – having fluent Russian enabled me to analyse sources in the original language. I could see nuances that would not necessarily have been visible in the translated version. My languages degree also provided me with the necessary research and analysis skills.
Returning to the year abroad, one of its wonders worth dwelling on further is the relationships you build when you are privileged to catch a glimpse into someone else’s way of life. My landlady in Yaroslavl’ became what I can only describe as my honorary Russian grandma, and I forged a deep bond with her. She showed care and concern for me whilst I lived with her, anxiously checking whether I was eating enough (I was – I could never get to the end of the mountain of pancakes!), consistently asking after my family and taking time to show me slides from her past adventures when she taught chemistry in Africa as a young woman. Until her death in 2020, long after my year abroad, we would ring each other every few weeks to catch up and share news. It was much like speaking to my English grandmas – Had I found a suitable man yet? was the refrain of most calls! I attended a local Baptist church in Yaroslavl’ and soon had a close group of friends from there, who immersed me in Russian life, including a trip to a banya, accompanied by the obligatory birch leaves! These friends have fled abroad as they are anti-war. Earlier this year, I went to America to see them. It was incredibly poignant: we shared our deep sadness at what is going on in Russia but also happy memories of the country. On the French side, whilst in Lille, I stayed with a young family who involved me in their daily routine of school, ballet and football. Recently I went back to see them. It was just like being at home. These relationships are what I most treasure from my study of languages–I don’t think there is another degree that allows you the enjoyment of having a window into someone else’s world.
French and Russian have allowed me to foster new and treasured relationships following my degree too. During coronavirus when the nation and world were locked down, through an EU initiative called ShareAmi and a language-learning website, I found conversation partners in Ekaterinburg and the Haute-Savoie, who are now friends of mine and we speak on a regular basis which keeps me fluent in both languages.
A less talked about but important outcome of studying languages is that your written and oral communication in English improves in almost equal measure. Arguing over the interpretation of plays, short stories and novels in other languages in essays and tutorials gives you a keen sense of nuance. Exercises in translating finetune your ability to communicate in your mother tongue: you are constantly having to think about the purpose of the text you are translating and the audience that it is intended for.
I have really benefited in my professional life from the development of my oral and written English during my studies. I work at the Ministry of Justice in a team implementing the Post Office Offences Act 2024 (the Act which quashes convictions of people wrongly convicted as part of the Horizon IT scandal). I previously worked in a team that looked at compensation for people wrongly convicted of an offence. In these roles, clear and erudite communication that has thought about purpose and audience is really important: there is significant interest from multiple stakeholders and, most importantly, our decisions have an impact on people’s lives.
Another skill that the study of languages helped develop and which I rely on is that of problem-solving and being able to think on your feet. I credit the wild and wonderful situations that arose on the year abroad! There are too many to list them all. They include dealing with an unfriendly guard on the border into Estonia, arriving into Moscow at one in the morning because the plane was delayed and working out how to arrive at my destination, rounding up the French host family’s chickens which got loose, and navigating the Russian health system to obtain a certificate of health which would enable me to go swimming! This last example was a hilarious tale in which I plucked up the courage to attend a doctor’s surgery for what I assumed what would be a rigorous examination to test if I was fit to swim, but ended up being a tap on the head and an instantaneous pronouncement of blooming health!
Although there are many more, the final asset of a languages degree that I would like to mention is that of the confidence it instils. I am able to identify two elements to the way this has manifested in my life. Firstly, a willingness to give something a go when feel completely out of my depth. Learning a new language meant that I often found myself out of my comfort zone. I initially lacked the vocabulary to be able to partake fully in a discussion. I had to be inventive and proactive in learning words and also crucially had to not be afraid of making a mistake. This has stayed with me. At the modern slavery charity, a project really pushed me out of my comfort zone: I worked with anti-exploitation charities in Kyrgyzstan. I was regularly talking to stakeholders from Kyrgyzstan in Russian on conference calls and had to build vocabulary to discuss the topic. I then had to deliver a seminar on the results!
The second aspect to this confidence is an awareness of the position of others, an empathy for when someone else is struggling and an ability to work as part of a team. When you have been the one struggling to communicate, it gives you an insight into what someone else might be going through. At work, I have been helping people struggling with their communication skills.
Languages have shaped my life. The beauty of a languages degree is that so many different roles are possible – I have friends in banking, teaching, fintech and even horticulture! It is a common critique of a languages degree that it does not open the door to such well-paying careers as a STEM subject might, but the richness of life experiences and relationships that my degree has given to me, not to mention the highly fulfilling career in bringing justice where it has sadly been lacking, is worth far far more. And of course, according to some recent studies, with my languages, I’ll also be staving off dementia!
