We believe in the power of real stories.
For this issue on "A Dream I Still Have", we have handpicked a user story for its genuine emotional truth. This is a story about a dream that did not fade with time, but grew quietly through shared meals, unfamiliar languages, and moments of human connection.
Let's dive in and witness how one dream continues to live, one conversation, one sentence, and one shared smile at a time.
Meet the author of this submission:
There's a dream that has lingered in my heart since my teenage years — one that has remained steadfast despite the passage of time and life's unpredictable turns. It's to build a small, warm space where language becomes not merely a tool for communication, but a bridge connecting souls.
I first nurtured this dream during a backpacking trip through a remote village in southern Spain. Though my Spanish was rudimentary and the villagers spoke little English, we connected through gestures, smiles, and the simple joys of shared moments: baking pan con tomate together, listening to elderly farmers tell animated stories with their hands, and laughing at our mutual misunderstandings. Those days taught me that language barriers are never truly insurmountable — they just prevent us from truly seeing one another. I dreamed of creating a place where people from different cultures could learn each other's languages not in sterile classrooms, but through daily interactions — cooking, gardening, sharing stories — so that words would carry the weight of genuine connection.
Years later, as I studied linguistics and worked with immigrants in my city, this dream only grew stronger. I witnessed how language anxiety could isolate people, and how a single shared phrase could spark friendship. My dream isn't about building some grand institution; it's about creating a cozy community center — with shelves filled with bilingual books, a kitchen for cooking together, and tables where locals and newcomers can chat over tea. It would be a place where mistakes are celebrated as part of learning, and where every voice is heard, regardless of fluency.
Some might say it's a small dream, but to me, it's profound. In a world often divided by our differences, language has the power to unite. This dream still ignites a fire in me, even on days when progress feels slow. I know that changing the world one conversation at a time isn't easy, but it's worth it. Because at the heart of every language is a story waiting to be shared — and every shared story brings us a little closer to understanding one another.
This is the dream I still hold: to turn words into bridges, and strangers into friends. And I will keep chasing it, one sentence, one smile, one connection at a time.
No grand essays, just real feelings. This is the Shanbay WriteLab spirit.
Did you find a piece of your own story in this submission? Share your ideas and let's exchange some inspiration for our next real stories.