Title: I’m About to Graduate and Decided to Learn Chinese. Great Timing, Obviously

Isabela McNeilly-Anta (SFS’27) is a Georgetown Storyteller and senior in the School of Foreign Service studying international political economy with a certificate in international business diplomacy and a minor in French. She is from New Jersey and loves aviation and long-distance running. 

“You’re crazy,” was the general consensus from my mom, roommates and friends. A week earlier, I had all my ducks in a row. The GUExperience gods had smiled upon me: my senior-year schedule covered the remaining requirements for my SFS core, International Political Economy major, French minor and International Business Diplomacy certificate. In fact, if I really wanted to, I could even graduate a semester early. Life was good.

That is until I upended my perfect schedule to enroll in Intensive Beginner Mandarin: six credits, four days a week and a recommended daily 2.5 hours of studying.

The Advice I Didn’t Take

Curiously, the idea to study Mandarin came while helping my younger brother move into college. Despite giving him the proverbial cold shoulder after he disregarded my demands to join me at Georgetown, I was still willing to offer him some college advice. 

“Don’t take this class,” were the first words out of my mouth when he showed me the French course in his schedule. 

For anyone who knows me, that reaction may come as a surprise. I’ve studied French for seven years: from IB in high school to a minor at college, I’ve completed summer language immersion programs in Brittany and Centre-Val de Loire. When I arrived at Georgetown, two things seemed certain: if I didn’t meet my best friends at NSO, I would be lonely and miserable forever; and I would spend the fall semester of junior year at Sciences Po Paris. I was only right about the latter, thank God. 

I had flirted with the idea of learning a new language, perhaps Italian or Chinese, but my parents dissuaded me. I was already taking seven courses. Why put more pressure on myself? Play it safe. French would boost my GPA and prepare me for Sciences Po. 

If you’re still reading this, I don’t mean to give you the wrong impression. I could never regret minoring in French. The experiences I’ve had through Georgetown’s French department have been exceptional. 

I met my long-lost “cousins” during the six-week Tours and Paris program and hosted weekly dinner parties with international students in Paris. I earned C1 proficiency and found lifelong mentors in professors who pushed me to greater academic heights. Classes were a joy: I wrote French for Politics essays critiquing anarchist political theory and rode an overnight bus after a Business French day trip to New York City to learn about VEJA’s sustainable business model. I regularly call and write to my host families, who share photos from family vacations to Martinique and let me know when my Christmas card arrives. 

These overwhelmingly positive memories — which I never shut up about — made my advice to study Korean, a longtime dream of his, all the more baffling to my brother. 

Educating the Whole Person: A Spirit of Learning

At Georgetown, like most universities, it’s easy to overload a schedule with classes that seem like the logical next step toward a major, an internship or a job. As an international political economy major, I could take courses like Applied Econometrics, International Trade and Data Science to gain a competitive advantage in the job market.

Yet my favorite classes over the past three years have had nothing to do with my major: History of the American Revolution, Theology of Pilgrimage through the MAGIS Immersion Seminars and now Intensive Beginner Mandarin. Despite lacking a common thread, each course fascinated me enough to keep me in Lau on a Friday— of my own free will — chipping away at the following week’s homework. 

So why did I throw away my perfect schedule? There exists, in my view, an immense joy in learning something for the first time.  

Every morning at 9:30, I sit with 15 other students in a classroom repeating unfamiliar sounds and words that have been mastered by Chinese two-year-olds. Yes, it’s incredibly humbling. At the moment, I know three adjectives, how to ask what your mom does for work and how to invite a classmate to dinner. Our Chinese is so limited, so basic, that even small mistakes send my friends and me into tear-inducing fits of laughter (apparently, if you say American wrong, it can mean “beautiful pot/pan people”). 

In being okay with the embarrassment of mispronouncing “student” (学生) at least four separate times each class, I have rediscovered a joyful spirit of learning.

Sitting in my brother’s unfurnished dorm, it occurred to me that by playing it safe and studying French, I had missed out on a chance to grow. College is a four-year invitation to try something new and be ridiculously bad at it. We’re handed a safety net not to be concerned with how well we perform, but rather an opportunity to gain new abilities. 

Georgetown’s commitment to “educating the whole person” means nurturing our spiritual, intellectual, artistic and physical capacities. Our dignity isn’t defined by our greatest talent. Reduce a D1 rower to their athletic ability, and you miss their sincere devotion to Christ, interest in classics and stand-up comedy performances — all equally worthy of admiration. Likewise, imagine turning down the chance to learn piano or run a 5K because “it’s not you.” Says who?

Next time you’re loading GUExperience and MyDegree, consider darkroom photography or Intensive Beginner Swahili. Sign up for ultimate frisbee. Learn to cook a three-course meal after years of an exclusively microwave noodle diet, and force your friends to spot you while you learn to backflip.

More importantly – know that it is never too late to start. It can be senior year, the first week at your new job or even retirement. I once met a 78-year-old woman learning to roller skate. Do not let the world rob you of your excitement to learn something new. Especially at college, embracing looking a little stupid can turn out to be the best decision of your academic career.