Silent Strength: Reclaiming the Beauty of Receptive Bilingualism

To the quiet bilinguals of the world—those who understand a heritage language deep in their bones but might not speak it back fluently—your story is worth celebrating. Too often, society tells you that understanding isn’t enough; that without perfect fluency, you’re somehow less whole. But they couldn’t be more wrong. The ability to listen, to comprehend, to feel the weight of words passed down through generations, is not just a skill—it’s a bridge. A lifeline. A sacred connection.

You are proof that languages live in more than just spoken words; they live in our hearts, in the laughter of a family dinner, in the familiar rise and fall of an abeula’s lullaby. You carry your language in the way you read between the lines, in how you instinctively know the cultural weight of a phrase, in how you interpret love in a voice that speaks more than words. And this, this quiet strength, is a gift. It’s a tie to your ancestors, to the stories that came before you, and to the culture you hold within.

But let’s be honest—being a receptive bilingual isn’t always easy. The world can be unkind, reducing bilingualism to a competition, a rigid standard that silences those who don’t fit the mold. You may feel judged by others or even by yourself. You may feel like you’re standing on the edge of two worlds, belonging everywhere and nowhere all at once. It can be lonely to carry a language in your heart but not on your tongue.

And yet, every moment you hear, understand, and hold that language is an act of defiance against forgetting. Receptive bilingualism is not a lesser form of bilingualism—it’s a powerful declaration that heritage matters, that culture matters, that connection matters. So, to those who quietly listen, who piece together meaning and make connections across cultures, who hold their heritage with reverence even when the words catch in their throat—you are the keepers of something beautiful. You are enough. And the world is richer because of who you are with these languages within you.

The Multilingual Home: Six Evidence-Based Approaches to Raising Bilingual Children

Parents today recognize the immense benefits of raising bilingual or multilingual children. For many, it’s about preserving cultural heritage and fostering a sense of connection to family and tradition. Others value the cognitive and social advantages of bilingualism, such as enhanced problem-solving skills, greater empathy, and improved career prospects.

Yet, the path to raising multilingual children can be challenging. Parents often wonder: How should families balance a minoritized language (a language with less visibility or power in a society) with the dominant societal language (the primary language spoken in the broader community)? Should each parent take on a specific language, or should the home environment focus on one language exclusively? And if children don't achieve "perfect" bilingualism, is it worth the endeavor?

Six Approaches to Raising Bilingual Children

The following table outlines six well-established approaches to raising bilingual children. Each strategy includes a brief description, an illustrative example, an analysis of why the approach is effective, and potential challenges families may encounter. Link to table here.

Practical Strategies for Long-Term Success

Raising bilingual children is a long-term commitment that requires intentional planning and adaptability. The following strategies can help families maintain momentum while fostering language development:

1. Make It Engaging: Incorporate books, songs, games, and media in the target languages to make learning enjoyable.

2. Create Consistent Routines: Dedicate specific times to each language, such as reading bedtime stories in the minoritized language or using certain vocabulary and phrases to engage with bedtime routines.

3. Build a Support Network: Seek out communities, playgroups, or schools that reinforce the minoritized language. Connecting with other families who share similar goals can also provide motivation.

4. Celebrate Milestones: Acknowledge and reward achievements, such as using a new phrase or completing a book in the minoritized language.

5. Cultivate Intrinsic Motivation: Share about the benefits of bilingualism with your child, emphasizing cultural connection, cognitive development, and future opportunities. When children understand the "why," they are more autonomous and empowered in the process.

6. Model Lifelong Language Learning: Share your own positive experiences with the languages you are learning and/or passing down. Children often model their attitudes on their parents’ excitement and commitment.

In our family, we embrace a multilingual approach, speaking both Mandarin and English at home to the kids, with English spoken between parents, English/Mandarin/Cantonese spoken with different grandparents, and some Cantonese exposure from me to share another part of our cultural heritage. Living in the English-speaking United States, we have intentionally supported our daughters’ exposure to Mandarin from the start through children’s media, Mandarin-speaking caretakers, Mandarin-focused preschools, and now enrollment in a Mandarin-English dual-language immersion public school. We also strengthen their connection to the language and culture with visits to family in Taiwan and Hong Kong. While our children are multilingual, we recognize that their linguistic journeys will be different from our own and remain committed to cultivating their motivation to take ownership of their unique multilingual experiences.

What approaches have worked for your family? Share your experiences in the comments—I’d love to hear how you’re fostering bilingualism or multilingualism in your home.

Unmuting Diversity: Challenging Linguistic Bias in the Language Classroom

“Your English is so good!”

This seemingly innocuous phrase often reveals underlying linguistic bias. While meant as a compliment, it implies surprise that someone could master English so well—an assumption rooted in stereotypes about who is or isn’t expected to be proficient. In language classrooms, similar biases can shape interactions and expectations. Educators may unconsciously hold certain students to higher or lower standards based on their accents, fluency, or cultural background, reinforcing hierarchies of language and marginalizing diverse linguistic identities. Unmuting diversity in these spaces requires us to recognize these patterns and actively work to create truly inclusive and equitable learning environments. Below are four ways to consider linguistic bias, which I shared in a recent session at the CATESOL State conference (see handout).

Accent Discrimination

Accent can be a powerful marker of identity, but in the TESOL classroom, it sometimes becomes a basis for discrimination. Accent discrimination occurs when individuals are judged based on how they sound, often aligning with societal biases against certain linguistic and cultural backgrounds. For example, a TESOL instructor may unconsciously favor students whose accents align with “standard” varieties of English, providing them more opportunities to speak, while students with different accents are overlooked or critiqued more harshly. Overcoming accent bias means recognizing and celebrating linguistic diversity—even in the ways we speak English—fostering an environment where all voices are valued equally.

Language Hierarchies and Global Englishes

Not all Englishes are created equal—at least in the eyes of many traditional curricula and assessments. Language hierarchies often privilege Standard American or British Englishes, positioning them as the “correct” or most-desired varieties of Engish while sidelining other global varieties. This creates a perception that some ways of speaking are inherently more valuable than others, perpetuating inequality. Imagine a TESOL curriculum that focuses solely on American English while ignoring vibrant English varieties of Indian Englishes, Singapore English, or African American Vernacular English. By embracing Global Englishes, educators can validate the diverse linguistic realities of students and challenge these entrenched hierarchies.

Fluency-Based Assumptions

Judgments based on a student's fluency often overlook the complexities of language learning. A student’s ability to speak fluently doesn’t always reflect a deep understanding of course content, just as a student with limited fluency might possess remarkable insights. In TESOL settings, educators sometimes assign leadership roles or critical tasks based on perceived fluency, inadvertently marginalizing quieter or less fluent students. Recognizing the broader competencies students bring to the classroom means moving beyond surface judgments and appreciating the different ways they contribute.

Breaking Cultural Stereotypes

Cultural stereotyping happens when educators make assumptions about language-learning abilities based solely on a student's cultural, ethnic, or national background. These stereotypes flatten the rich diversity within cultural groups, leading to missed opportunities for genuine connection and understanding. When a TESOL instructor assumes all students from a specific country struggle similarly with pronunciation or share the same learning style or interests, they ignore individual strengths and challenges. Moving beyond stereotypes means taking the time to understand each student’s unique experience, creating more inclusive classrooms where all learners can thrive.

Unmuting diversity in the language classroom means more than acknowledging linguistic differences—it’s about actively valuing and amplifying them. By challenging biases, dismantling hierarchies, and embracing the rich tapestry of global Englishes, we create spaces where all students feel seen, heard, and respected. In other words, we empower students to bring their full linguistic and cultural identities to the classroom, transforming these spaces into hubs of equity and belonging. It’s not just about teaching language; it’s about fostering a world where every voice has a chance to thrive.

Beyond Perfection: The Beauty of Imperfect Language Learning

Many people believe that bilingualism is an “all or nothing” pursuit, where anything less than perfect fluency in two languages falls short of being truly bilingual. This mindset puts a lot of pressure on parents and can discourage many from trying to raise bilingual children. For example, a child might understand their parents’ native language but prefer to respond in English. Rather than being recognized for their bilingual abilities, they might be unfairly viewed as “not really bilingual.”

To take perspective, we need to dismantle this “gold standard” of bilingualism that demands native-like fluency in both languages. Bilingualism is not a rigid benchmark but exists on a spectrum, where every level of proficiency holds unique value. Languages themselves are dynamic and alive, constantly shifting and evolving, which makes each step in a bilingual journey meaningful and worth celebrating. Receptive bilinguals, for instance, may not speak a second language fluently but can deeply understand it. This isn’t a "lesser form" of bilingualism; receptive bilinguals possess unique strengths in comprehending cultural nuances and embodying unspoken traditions, allowing them to bridge cultural divides in ways that monolingual/monocultural individuals cannot.

Dominant bilinguals, who are more proficient in one language while maintaining meaningful skills in a second, bring their own distinctive contributions to the table. Consider someone who grew up speaking Spanish as their first language and learned English later in life. While they might still feel more at home speaking Spanish, they have developed strong English skills to excel in a professional setting—perhaps working as a community health worker. This person may conduct complex discussions in Spanish with patients and families while seamlessly switching to English to coordinate with medical staff. Their proficiency in both languages, though not perfectly balanced, enables them to bridge critical gaps in care, build trust, and create deeper connections. This ability to navigate multiple linguistic and cultural contexts adds real value far beyond any pursuit of native-like perfection.

Ultimately, breaking free from the unrealistic ideal of perfect bilingualism means embracing the beauty of imperfect language learning. Every step on the spectrum of bilingualism holds value, reflecting the dynamic, evolving nature of language itself. When we let go of the idea that it’s “all or nothing,” we empower more people—especially children—to approach bilingualism in meaningful, unique, and impactful ways that celebrate its messy and vibrant reality.

Empowering Students Through Storytelling: Humanizing Pedagogy in Action

Imagine a classroom where every student feels truly seen and heard, and where their voices, backgrounds, and experiences shape their learning journeys. This is the goal of humanizing pedagogy — an approach that views students as whole people, and not just as academic performers. Rooted in the work of Paulo Freire and Maria del Carmen Salazar, humanizing pedagogy emphasizes the value of students’ lived experiences, histories, and identities. Freire describes this as recognizing students as “fully human” rather than “reduced to things,” while Salazar calls for teaching that respects students’ personal and cultural knowledge. One powerful way to bring this philosophy to life is through storytelling, where students share their own stories, creating a classroom culture of empathy, connection, and relevance.

Allowing students to tell their own stories helps cultivate a classroom culture where every voice matters. For example, in a history class, students can be encouraged to share family stories that relate to the historical period being studied. Perhaps a student’s grandparent has a memory of the Civil Rights Movement, or maybe someone has a family connection to a recent migration story. These personal insights add depth to the lesson while allowing students to bring their backgrounds and experiences into the learning process. When students contribute in this way, they are not only connecting with the material but also sharing pieces of themselves with their peers, fostering empathy and understanding.

Creating space for storytelling doesn’t require overhauling the curriculum; it can be woven into everyday interactions. Simple prompts like “Has anyone had a similar experience?” or “Can you think of a time when you faced a challenge like this?” can invite students to reflect on their lives in relation to the lesson. As they share, they learn to connect academic concepts to real-world experiences. These moments can be powerful, making abstract ideas more concrete and encouraging students to see themselves within the subject matter.

For storytelling to truly humanize the classroom, it’s essential to create a supportive environment where students feel comfortable sharing. Establishing norms around respectful listening is key. Encourage students to listen actively, ask open-ended questions, and show appreciation for their peers’ stories. Modeling openness yourself by sharing personal anecdotes related to the lesson can also set the tone, demonstrating that everyone’s stories have value. This builds trust and shows that the classroom is a safe space for authentic expression.

Storytelling as a teaching tool may seem simple, but it can profoundly shift classroom dynamics. By giving students space to share their experiences, you invite them to connect with each other, deepen their understanding of the material, and feel valued as whole people. In this way, storytelling is more than just a technique; it is a pathway to humanizing pedagogy, helping students see themselves as active participants in their learning journey.

Beyond Practicality: Why Bilingualism Enriches Children’s Lives

In a globalized world, where borders are shrinking and cultures constantly intersect, being bilingual or multilingual is frequently celebrated for its practical benefits. We tell young people that knowing multiple languages opens doors – they can help family members, assist tourists, or navigate foreign countries with ease. This perspective is valid, and indeed, multilingualism offers a wide array of advantages in an interconnected world. Yet, there’s a depth to being multilingual that goes beyond these everyday benefits, a depth that goes beyond practical significance.

When you speak more than one language, you experience the world in a uniquely layered way. Languages are not just codes for the same set of universal meanings; they each bring their own histories, cultures, and perspectives. A word in one language might capture a feeling or concept that doesn’t exist in another—like the Chinese phrase '人情味' (rénqíngwèi), which describes the warmth and empathy found in human relationships, something richer than mere friendliness. Multilingual individuals constantly shift between these perspectives, accessing a nuanced, embodied understanding of life and culture that others might not fully understand or appreciate. This cognitive and emotional flexibility doesn’t just change how multilinguals communicate – it shapes how they think, feel, and connect with the world around them.

At its core, multilingualism offers another way of being human. Through each language, we see the world from a different lens, challenging us to grow in empathy and open our minds to new possibilities. Every language is embedded with cultural nuances that shape how we express identity, convey respect, and approach problem-solving—for instance, the Chinese concept of '面子' (miànzi), or 'face,' which emphasizes respect, dignity, and social harmony in interactions. Living with multiple languages is diversity embodied in thought and expression. Existing as a multilingual being isn’t simply a skill; it’s a dynamic way of experiencing and interacting with the world.

So, while it’s beneficial to remind kids of the tangible benefits of being bilingual, we should also honor the profound beauty of their multilingual minds. Let’s celebrate multilingualism not just as a tool for communication, but as a way to foster empathy, deepen our connections across cultures, and enrich our human experience.

From Elementary School Teacher to Teacher Educator

I always imagined I’d spend my career as an elementary school teacher. Becoming a professor? That was never part of my plan.

But then, during my own teacher education journey, I encountered some truly remarkable professors. Jan Riggsbee at Duke, who enrolled me in an independent study when I couldn't articulate my reasons for becoming a teacher, helping me find my voice as an undergrad. 🙏🏾 Icy Lee and Paul Sze at CUHK, who taught with such passion, clarity, and fervor while their research centered the lived experiences of teachers. 🙏🏾 Carol Benson at Columbia, who worked directly with teachers all over the world, showed me how to translate research and teaching to policymakers and advocacy. 🙏🏾 And Heather Woodley at NYU, who embodied meta-teaching practices, modeling the tenets of critical pedagogy that she preached to her teacher candidates. 🙏🏾

And so, my career took an unexpected turn when my wife and I went back to graduate school. I (somewhat reluctantly) left the classroom after six fulfilling years because I had developed countless questions about language education—questions about pedagogy, curriculum, systemic inequities, and global concerns about who gets to speak certain languages and how we prepare them to do so.

Transitioning to teaching adults—specifically pre-service teachers—was an adjustment, and not a day goes by that I don’t miss working with young children. But the potential and privilege of working with passionate teacher candidates who are eager to walk alongside and shape the lives of children is truly remarkable. Together, we consider how they might become a fierce advocate, a trusted role model, a speaker of truth, an educator to the children they teach. Teaching is such sacred work.

And so, with immense gratitude to the California Council on Teacher Education and the teacher candidates (now teachers!) who I've gotten to work with, I express my heartfelt thanks for this recognition and honor: the Outstanding Emerging Teacher Educator Award. It affirms and validates that while I'm no longer in the elementary classroom, my work in teacher education—through research, teaching, and service—is making a meaningful impact in the lives of students and teachers.

#TeacherEducation #TeachingJourney #LanguageEducation #PassionateEducators #LifelongLearning #TeacherImpact #FutureTeachers

Humanizing Schools for Mandarin Teachers in America

The landmark Lau vs. Nichols Supreme Court decision of 1974 fundamentally reshaped the landscape of bilingual education in the United States, guaranteeing English learners access to a meaningful education. Over the past fifty years, dual-language programs have emerged as a promising model to foster bilingualism and cultural competence. However, beneath the surface of these programs lies a persistent challenge that remains largely unaddressed: the workplace environments of the bilingual teachers who are essential to their success.

Mandarin Dual Language Bilingual Education (MDLBE) programs, the second most common DLBE program in the U.S. after Spanish, face unique pressures. These programs are grappling with teacher shortages, coupled with the racial and linguistic biases faced by Mandarin-speaking educators. Many of these teachers experience "outsiderness" in a system that, while claiming to promote bilingualism, continues to privilege English. This hierarchy of language not only undermines the cultural and linguistic goals of dual-language programs but also dehumanizes the very teachers who make these programs possible.

In my research with Dr. Helen Chan Hill, we explored the experiences of Mandarin DLBE teachers and found that despite their critical role in the success of these programs, they often feel marginalized. Educators reported feeling isolated, unrecognized for their cultural knowledge, and subjected to raciolinguistic profiling—assumptions about their English proficiency and competence based on their race and accent. This treatment reinforces a broader issue in U.S. schools: the failure to fully embrace linguistic and cultural diversity, even in environments that are meant to do so.

If we are serious about creating equitable, inclusive educational environments, we must move beyond surface-level changes and examine the deeper systemic biases that continue to shape school cultures. This means creating humanizing, culturally sustaining spaces for both students and teachers. It is not enough to offer dual-language programs; we must ensure that the educators who run them are valued for their full range of skills—linguistic proficiency, cultural insight, and professional expertise. These teachers are more than just language instructors; they are professionals who bring valuable perspectives that enrich their classrooms and school communities.

https://www.tandfonline.com/eprint/9ZC95BHWXYIIUD7JVKYR/full?target=10.1080/15235882.2024.2412519

Bilingual Schools as Community Lifeways: Reflections on Mid-Autumn Festival

This morning, as I walked into my daughter's school and saw vibrant lanterns adorning the entryway, lovingly put up by parent volunteers, a wave of nostalgia hit me. Clutching a tin of double-yolk mooncakes, I was transported back to my childhood in Hong Kong, where the Mid-Autumn Festival was a time of joy, family, and light. Seeing these familiar symbols in a school far from where I grew up made me reflect on the beauty of schools that actively celebrate important festivals from different cultures.

At first glance, these decorations might seem like simple gestures—bright colors to light up the hallways and "teachable moments" about diverse cultures. While they do serve these important purposes, when schools create spaces to celebrate cultural events, they become more than just places of learning—schools transform into community hubs: generative spaces for community members to be seen and known; culturally responsive spaces that decenter dominant narratives and elevate diverse ways of being; safe spaces for individuals to make sense of their multicultural identities.

Schools transform into community hubs that breathe life into cultural traditions, drawing in students, teachers, and parents and fostering deep community connections. Would parents have observed Mid-Autumn Festival if the school had not organized a special celebration? Would teachers have called it a work day and then headed home, only to see friends from across the world celebrating on social media? Would students have acquired a few "nice to know" words and phrases that made the festival interesting but not relevant to their lives? When schools make the effort to celebrate important festivals like the Mid-Autumn Festival, they do more than preserve cultural traditions—they actively shape and strengthen the bonds that hold generations of communities together. These spaces don’t just reflect diversity; they generate new ways for cultures to flourish and continue, making everyone feel seen and valued.

As I bring these mooncakes back to my family, I am filled with gratitude for schools that recognize and invest in the power of cultural celebration. Schools are the heart of our communities, serving as spaces for identity formation and ensuring that our cultural practices remain alive and vibrant for future generations.

中秋節快樂!

What Color Is Your English?

“What color is your English?”

This provocative question challenges the assumption that language, particularly English, is neutral and free of racial bias. In their article, Sender Dovchin and Vander Tavares explore how the perception of English is deeply intertwined with the race and appearance of the speaker, leading to linguistic racism. Faculty of color in Western higher education, regardless of their linguistic proficiency, often face discriminatory assumptions that their English is somehow "inferior" or "foreign." This bias not only undermines their professional standing but also reinforces the harmful notion that English spoken by people of color holds less value compared to that spoken by white individuals.

Linguistic racism has implications far beyond higher education, extending into K-12 education and broader society. In schools, students of color often encounter similar biases, where their language abilities are judged through a racial lens, potentially affecting their academic performance and self-esteem. These early experiences of linguistic discrimination can shape their educational trajectories, limiting their opportunities and reinforcing societal inequalities. Still, I believe higher education is a crucial battleground for challenging and dismantling these deficit ideologies. The field of raciolinguistics, which examines the intersection of race and language, provides a framework for future teachers and leaders to address the assumptions and biases we've been socialized to believe. By fostering inclusive environments in universities, we can not only support faculty and students of color but also set a precedent for valuing linguistic diversity across all levels of education and society.

Read the full article here: https://www.timeshighereducation.com/campus/what-colour-your-english-linguistic-racisms-impact-faculty-colour