Learning Esperanto

Since I was a child, I have been fascinated with languages and the incredible capacity we have as humans to communicate with one another. I still remember that at school and with my neighborhood friends, we would create different alphabets and even entire languages to exchange secret messages. It was a playful yet profound way of exploring the boundaries of communication. 

As I grew up, I began to hear about an incredible project—at least, it seemed incredible to me—the idea of a “united Europe.” Those words sparked an impetus to look beyond my immediate surroundings and see the world as one big house where all my brothers and sisters lived. I yearned to speak with all of them, to understand their lives and perspectives, and to share mine. This desire became the driving force behind my love for learning languages.

When I first encountered Esperanto, it was as if this dream of connecting with others on equal terms had found its voice. Esperanto, a language created not for one nation or culture but for all, resonated with my vision of unity. As a child, I quickly picked up some basic phrases and started using them to connect with pen-pals from places that seemed unimaginably distant at the time. My correspondents hailed from Eastern Europe—then quite isolated behind the Iron Curtain—from Asian countries like China, Korea, and Japan, and even from the Middle East.

What was truly magical was how we could communicate without using anyone else’s language as an intermediary. It felt like stepping onto neutral ground, where we were all equals. There were no linguistic hierarchies, no dominance of one culture over another. Esperanto gave us the means to express ourselves openly, simply, and authentically.

As I deepened my studies of languages—modern, ancient, and even “invented” ones like American Sign Language (ASL)—I began to see that a language is much more than a set of words and rules. It carries the culture, history, and essence of its speakers. I explored planned languages like ASL and even Sindarin, the elegant Elvish language from Tolkien’s The Lord of the Rings universe. This journey taught me that learning another person’s language often feels like stepping into their world on their terms. But it also made me question why this dynamic so often involves a power imbalance.

Take English, for instance. Learning it opened many doors for me, but I couldn’t ignore the fact that it also gave native speakers an inherent advantage. You see, I’ve lived in the US since 1992, and even after all this time, I know I’ll never be like one of them linguistically! 

This dynamic, repeated with many dominant languages, often feels unfair and unequal. True unity, I realized, requires something different: a shared linguistic space where everyone stands on equal footing. This is precisely what Esperanto offers—a language that belongs to no one and everyone at the same time.

Esperanto is unique because it was born from a vision of equality and harmony. Ludwik Lejzer Zamenhof, its creator, was a Polish-Jewish ophthalmologist living in a linguistically and culturally divided community. He dreamed of a neutral language that could bridge these divides—a second language for all, designed to foster understanding without replacing anyone’s native tongue.

The language itself reflects this mission. Esperanto’s grammar is simple and logical, free of the irregularities that plague many natural languages. Each letter corresponds to a single sound, and there are no exceptions. This consistency makes it remarkably easy to learn, even for children, while its structure encourages creativity and expression.

As a child, my correspondence in Esperanto with friends worldwide showed me the power of Zamenhof’s vision. We formed friendships that transcended cultural and linguistic barriers. But as I grew older, I began to sense that language alone wasn’t enough to fully realize the ideal of unity. Words can create a bridge, but the connection must also come from within.

It was in my youth that I encountered something that brought this realization into focus: the spirituality of Unity. This spirituality worked deeply within me, inviting me to see every person as a brother or sister. It taught me that unity is not just about shared language or mutual understanding—it is about recognizing the intrinsic worth and dignity of each individual. This spirituality became the heart and soul of my vision of unity, while Esperanto remained its voice.

Today, Esperanto remains a vibrant symbol of what humanity can achieve when it strives for equality and connection. Although its adoption has not reached the global scale that Zamenhof envisioned, the language continues to thrive in a dedicated and growing community. Usage estimates suggest that around 100,000 people speak Esperanto fluently, while millions more have studied it, thanks to tools like Duolingo.

Esperanto’s strength lies in its community. Events like the Universala Kongreso (Universal Congress) bring together people from all over the world to celebrate their shared language and culture. These gatherings showcase the diversity of the Esperanto-speaking world and affirm its potential to foster genuine cross-cultural dialogue.

Critics sometimes point to the dominance of English as the world’s lingua franca, arguing that Esperanto is unnecessary. But Esperanto offers a way to communicate that does not privilege any one group over another. It is a language of equality, designed not for power but for peace.

I see now how much Esperanto and the spirituality of Unity have shaped my understanding of connection. Together they’ve taught me that true unity is built on shared values and mutual respect. Esperanto may never replace national languages or become the world’s dominant tongue, but its value lies in its message: that understanding is possible if we meet each other as equals.