What are your favorite books that interrogate language and social reality? A theoretical digression, one question, and language teachers reflecting on language and our world -Open the link to read it

...thinking and discourse are inextricably linked to our very social nature. I couldn't help but imagine what my friends would say about a question that was growing in my mind....

Open the link to read the ENTIRE post, as it is too long for email

Side note:The driving force behind this Substack is to showcase teachers whose references are rooted in diverse literary and theoretical backgrounds. Language learning cannot be confined to ELT books - though I fully acknowledge their significance. With this in mind, I decided to invite friends I admire to answer quite a complex question. It all began when I realised that I had to be attuned to my beliefs: thinking and discourse are inextricably linked to our very social nature. I couldn't help but imagine what my friends would say about a question that was growing in my mind. For a start, I want to offer a rather intricate theoretical reflection on language and its circuit in a text, which is something that derives from French theory, specifically post-structuralist theory from the 60s, and which I have gradually introduced here on my page. Then, a group of high-caliber language teachers will share their insights on a question they were sent a couple of days ago: What was the most remarkable book that prompted you to reflect on the relationship between language and your social/cultural reality? Though I am taking advantage of broaching topics I consider important to me, the primary goal is to have my friends over and showcase their ideas and work. I want to celebrate both their work and their beautiful souls. It's a heartfelt message to remind you that people are lovely and incredibly inspiring; you just need to give yourself a chance to bond with like-minded people and be open to truly listening to them. I want to thank every single one of you who joined me for this nonsense yet exciting challenge.

A digression on language

A book that changed my life

One question and Teacher's recommendations

1. A digression on language and its circuit in a text

Hardly a day goes by that I do not carve out some quality time for two of my long-lasting obsessions: coffee and reading. While I deem idle moments integral to savoring a soothing, invigorating break, allowing ourselves to switch off and be indulged with a thoughtful book helps spark creativity and keep us grounded.

However, I have to be brutally honest and say that, despite its undeniable soothing effect on us, literature, for me, has always been a two-sided coin: literary texts, which are not confined to fiction or fictionalization, hinge on the juxtaposition between their resemblance to a given reality and their expansion into universality. The flipside is that I truly appreciate the impotence of a text and its flawed argument—a much-needed device that creates a prefabricated experience of dissatisfaction, or even a significance in literature

It evokes one particular idea coined by Jacques Derrida on the very notion of fictionality. When asked about the driving force of literature to either dispel entrenched beliefs and offers a critico-political function bedded down in its layers, he unabashedly shows his keen interest in possibility of fiction, which, in essence, surpasses a literary-fictional program ingrained in the interplay between representation and possibility - a very pervasive idea that is, nonetheless, determinant to the concept of fiction in broader sense.

In this sense, Derrida confesses that deep down he has never drawn great enjoyment from fiction, from reading novels. He would rather derive much more pleasure and enjoyment from analysing the play of writing, and certain moments of identification that are systematically intertwined with the history of the Western world and its deconstruction. His words of confession left an indelible mark on me, as they awakened me to a certain practice of fiction: the intrusion of an effective disorder into writing that involved an immense forbidden and inhibited [repressed] desire. Regardless of the genre, for Derrida, a text needs to shrewdly throw disquieting questions and linguistic queries about the world we inhabit. To put it in other words, there must be a condensation of history, of language, of societal issues, and, yet, my very own questions in it.

This also accounts for the philosophical force of our experience when confronting and interpreting the body of a text and our queries. Undeniably, there is always a provocation to think about the objective, the meaning, and the world. On top of that, what I am naming 'literature,' 'literary,' and 'fictionality' stands on the edge of everything. Derrida once claimed that this was the most interesting thing in the world, and it was very likely to be even more interesting and compelling than the world itself. As a consequence, this rationale points to the fact that a text will never be confined or restricted to a singular, reductionist definition, such as scientific, philosophical, or entertainment. On the contrary, a text urges us to be open to all these discourses, as there is no text without a suspended intersectionality that narrows and reduces meaning.

Having this profusion of ideas in mind, I was halfway through writing this text when it dawned on me that I am always thinking collaboratively without necessarily naming the people who have bonded with me in different ways—reading my texts, having insightful chats, sharing ideas on Instagram, teaching me life-changing things, and thinking alongside me in a community of language enthusiasts. So, I thought to myself: why not invite them to share their thoughts on the intersection between text, literature, and the world? This has always been the driving force of my work, and I would love to hear what these extremely special and necessary professionals I truly admire have to share with us

I thought of each of them carefully - I want them to know the importance both of them as individuals and their intellectual ideas play in my life. Not a day goes by that I don't learn something from them. I cannot put into words the thrill of being surrounded by beautiful souls and top-notch language thinkers.

Without further ado, I will start by sharing the question I asked them to answer. Then, I’ll share our thoughts and introduce them so that you can find each of them on social media. It’s really worth following their work and, why not, working with them. If I had more time and energy, I’d take a course with each and every one of them

2. One question: What was the most remarkable book that prompted you to reflect on the relationship between language and your social/cultural reality?

I was wondering why I posed this question, and I will assume that this question has been the cynosure of my whole academic and professional life as a researcher and a teacher. Honestly? I haven't been able to name this book yet. While there are nodes of great books that have reshaped who I am, my life as a reader has been fundamentally changed by the unfolding of unknown forms of existence.

If I am being honest, one specific book was instrumental in revamping the way I see the words and their intersection with language: Acts of Literature, by Jacques Derrida. Much to your surprise, this is not a fictional book, even though I have a craving for fiction, and this has been an integral part of my journey as a researcher. Nonetheless, literature isn't tied to fiction, per se—it definitely exceeds its own realm of knowledge.

Acts of literature stem from what was broadly known as French theory in the 60s, in which ideas were aligned with post-structuralist concepts of language. In a very reductionist way, part of the theories produced a counter-blast argument to the very core of Saussure's theory of the sign.

As I won't be able to encapsulate much within too short a time, this book is a bold contribution to the humanities, providing me with a lightbulb moment that culminated in unearthing core values for my teaching and the way I interpret meaning and its relationship with other fields of knowledge.

Through a meticulous and methodical reading system, Derrida envisioned literature, especially in the work of symbolist poet Stéphane Mallarmé, as an unstable device that served as a catalyst for a language crisis. He marked the end of what was widely and traditionally known as literature, seeing the literary text as a potential device for threatening classical understanding. He emphasises the force behind Mallarmé’s projects that not only interrogate our linguistic reality but also took an extreme exploitation of semantic richness since the culture of ancient Greece. The focus falls on the role words play and how they produce the unstable and undecidable relation between meaning and form, allocating space for the revelation of the logic of language

In line with this thought, Books may unpack the world of human complexity, with intricate characters and layered realities. Things are no longer confined to an adaptive, one-size-fits all process. Contrary to this entrenched reality, by acknowledging our gaps, variants, and imprecisions, we can benefit from our multiple and conflictual innermost nature to re-awaken our capacity to create and reshape forms that one day were strictly and fully tied to biased and totalitarian regimes of world views and interpretations.

In literature, beyond isolated islands of knowledge, words used to describe and construct reality are transported into a specific language, where they are endowed with a new architecture, syntax, and a tailored logic intricately tied to each speaker's style.

As long as we adopt a reading method to approach a literary text, like a novel, placing emphasis primarily on the form is a glaring failure, and chances are that we get derailed to think or experience the sea of possibilities of a thought that inhabit a world outside form. Not only does this thought exist outside the form of a novel, but it also interrogates both the novel's form and foundation, as well as our mechanimal way of thinking in disarray with urgent questions tied to our contemporary society.

Limiting our critical engagement with language, history and identities to formal qualities we are familiar with may bring about perilous problems to the way we have either view and foster critical thinking - ultimately, minor details and intricate relationships, which should be functioning symbiotically, are overlooked for they may not carry enough significante to be analysed and scrutinized.

Restricting our attention to well-known forms of existence forces out a unwanted separation between thought and fiction, separating texts from a thought that quietly dismantles the certainty, knowability of the world depicted, and most importantly, a thought that lays bare the entrenched views and archaic structures embedded in our world. Breaking with the outside world entails breaking with the inside, through meticulous and exhaustive textual analyses that shed lights on the intersectionality between what is glaringly obvious and what is not visible or easy to be perceived instantly and immediately.

3. Teacher's take on the question: what high caliber professionals think of the symbiotic relation between language and our world.’

Taking time out to reflect on a book and its complex relations and layered narratives is akin to interrogating the knowability of a world at stake—one that has been depicted and passed down through generations. Teacher's bold attempt to provide a shrewd commentary on a book that once prompted them to reconsider language and our constructed reality is pivotal in helping us unravel political orthodoxies and biased worldviews that have shaped our existence over the centuries.

Navigating this entangled web of various discourses is, by far, an intellectual exercise of the highest order, one that should be acknowledged and celebrated. No wonder this is a Herculean task, and their effort mirrors the high caliber and magnificent work they have consistently demonstrated with their learners and top-notch professionals. I truly hope you can carve our time to savour every word each of them employ in their reflection.

What I loved most about the recommendation was something I had actually harbored high expectations for, and as I imagined, it went beyond all expectations: references ranging from sociolinguistics, diasporic literature, post-colonial studies, classic literature, British cultural aspects, ELT teaching material, Brazilian literature, Dominican-American literature, and cultural studies

These are the loveliest people I have, who spared no effort to share their ideas: Bruna Passos, Sarah Morgan, Elaine Costa, Renan Lemes, Lucy Cole, Catherine Angus, Agnes Rubinho, Hemylle Oliveira, Mariana Reis, Rosilene, Raíza, Lisa, Marisa Bernades, Carolina Vecchio.

Follow them on instagram; take the courses they are offering ; support their podcast and groups; buy their books and materials; engage with them on social media - They are outstanding professionals and I strongly recommend everything they do.

4. Teachers and their digressions on books

Bruna Passos elt - Groups for teachers available for 2025 - The most skilled teacher I know / high level content on Instagram / She's got a knack for sharing knowledge on social media and prompting people to learn more.

Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/brunapassoselt/ / English for advanced Learners / Lexical approach / Spots available for 2025.

At the risk of sounding cliché, one of the first books that truly opened my eyes to language was Preconceito Linguístico by the Brazilian sociolinguistic Marcos Bagno. It was probably the first book I read as an undergraduate! This powerful exploration of how language reflects and perpetuates social inequalities challenges the myth of a "correct" or "superior" way of speaking, revealing how stigmatizing non-standard varieties marginalizes individuals and their identities. For me, as a novice teacher, it was an incredibly important read because it set the right tone from the start: the classroom should celebrate diversity, and teachers—through their practices—can either reinforce or help dismantle systemic inequalities.

Sarah Morgan: English for Advanced Learners - Groups / book club / 1:1 sessions available for 2025. She's the BEST tutor I have ever had in my whole life [she's been my teacher for 1 year ]

Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/meaningful.english/

Reading _One of Them _brought back vivid memories of navigating a sense of otherness and feelings of being an outsider in a highly competitive, classist environment. Like Okwonga, I was a scholarship student at a private school, surrounded by peers from vastly different socioeconomic backgrounds. I didn’t share the same in-jokes or cultural shorthand as my classmates, and my bizarre accent (a mishmash of West Country and North American) meant I stuck out like a sore thumb. Okwonga's account of his days at Eton was the first book that really prompted me to reflect on my own personal experiences of how language—accents, dialects, and shared cultural references—shapes not only how we communicate but also how we fit into, or feel excluded from, social and cultural realities.

Elaine Costa_elt - Teaching English with Purpose - For adults - Cultural and linguistic decolonisation / Courses / groups and 1:1 lessons available for 2025 / Superb approach to language and cultural aspects.

Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/elainecosta_elt/

I was thrilled to read Felicio’s invitation, and it immediately prompted me to start thinking about the task at hand. At first, I struggled to follow his advice: feel free to recommend the very first one that springs to mind. I brushed off the idea of writing about this chosen book, drowning in overthinking and trying to select something different. But then I re-read the prompt and realized why and how I always think about this book, even though I read it more than twenty years ago (it’s on my list to revisit). The book in question is Wide Sargasso Sea by Jean Rhys.

Wide Sargasso Sea is a prequel to Jane Eyre by Charlotte Brontë. I read this book in a Post-Colonial Studies course in college, where I wrote a paper about it (too bad it was handwritten, and I don’t have it anymore). This book struck a deep chord with me. It validated many of the unspoken questions I had while reading much of the required literature for my course. Being a Black student from an underprivileged background played a significant role in making me feel disconnected from some of these readings. I often encountered only one dominant voice, one so different from my own.

Wide Sargasso Sea changed that perspective. I saw it as a powerful act of giving voice to the voiceless, challenging the status quo, and highlighting the colonial and slavery-driven mentality present in much of the literature I had read—especially English literature from the 18th century. What I appreciated most about this book was its ability to challenge colonial assumptions and tell the story from the perspective of the colonized.

In Jane Eyre, Bertha Mason is dehumanized, brutalized, and referred to as the "crazy woman in the attic," the "other." In Wide Sargasso Sea, however, she is Antoinette, a white Creole woman with a family, a face, a story, and a name. Mr. Rochester, often portrayed as the romantic, tormented hero, is revealed as the colonizer who exploits and manipulates others, playing a central role in Antoinette’s transformation into the monstrous character we meet in Jane Eyre.

This book reminded me of the importance of accessing diverse narratives and broadening our horizons by engaging with different perspectives. It also validated my discomfort with the lack of diversity and counterpoints in the narratives I was exposed to. The foundation of my teaching practice and my view of language stems from discussions like the ones we had about Wide Sargasso Sea: Antoinette’s struggles with identity (which is eventually stripped from her), the importance of giving voice to the voiceless, bringing justice to marginalized communities in language education, and unlearning stereotypes through language and literature.

I believe discussing and reflecting on the issues raised in Wide Sargasso Sea and other post-colonial narratives would be the perfect springboard to continue challenging colonial legacies in language and redefining English as a tool for connection and empowerment.

Renan - WeTeachoneline -Exam preparation / safe environment to share and learn / English as a lingua franca enthusiast / Spots available for 2025. We've been friends for years and he's the most reliable teacher I know out there.

Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/renan_weteachonline/

The Harry Potter series by J.K. Rowling was the first book that really got me hooked on reading when I was a pre-teen, and it made me think about the connection between language and culture. Growing up in Brazil, reading a story set in England was fascinating because it introduced me to a world so different from mine.

One thing that stood out to me was the use of British English and the cultural references. Words like muggle, the spell names, and even the way characters spoke felt unique and unfamiliar. Some of these things didn’t translate perfectly into Portuguese, which made me realize how much language can shape the way we understand a story. It was my first glimpse into how language carries the culture behind it.

The themes in the book also made me think about my own reality. For example, the way Muggle-borns were treated by purebloods reminded me of issues like inequality and discrimination in Brazil. Even though it’s a magical world, those social dynamics felt very real and universal

Lucy Cole English - Delta certified and teacher trainer / Course and workshop for teachers - Courses for 2025.1 available / Groups and 1:1 sessions - lovely and superb approach to language

Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/lucycoleenglish/

The first book that comes to mind may not seem like an obvious choice, but it’s The How to be British Collection. Why this book? It brilliantly encapsulates the quirks, stereotypes, and essence of British culture in a humorous yet thought-provoking way, using real-life scenarios to highlight the unique interplay between language and cultural identity.

For example, the book hilariously explores British politeness, illustrating how phrases like “I’m terribly sorry” or “Would you mind awfully…” can be less about genuine apology and more about maintaining social harmony. Another memorable section delves into the British obsession with tea, where offering a “cuppa” isn’t just a casual act—it’s a ritual that reflects values of hospitality and connection. Even the infamous British weather talk is dissected, showing how a simple “Lovely day, isn’t it?” is less about the weather and more about breaking the ice or filling awkward silences.

What struck me most was how these cultural nuances directly influence language use. It highlighted that learning English—or any language—is not just about mastering grammar or expanding vocabulary. It’s about understanding the cultural subtleties that dictate why something is said, how it’s said, and what it truly means in context. A phrase as simple as “Not bad” could signify modest praise, indifference, or even quiet satisfaction, depending on the tone and situation.

This book serves as a reminder that language is more than a tool for communication; it’s a living, breathing reflection of a society’s worldview, humor, and values. It’s these intricate connections that make language learning and teaching such a rich and rewarding journey.

Catherine Angus - Hear You Go Podcast - English for teachers / pronunciation and spontaneous speech / Hear You Go Podcast on Spotify / Courses available for 2025.1 /Best podcast ever - SUPER professional and loveliest person I have met on the internet. High caliber tutor.

Instagram and Podcast: https://www.instagram.com/lucycoleenglish/

I had to jog my memory to answer this question, and I went with my first two memories. I’m sure there are many others!

Number one would be the play Les Belles-sœurs, by a Québécois author, Michel Tremblay.

We read this in high school, and it was the first time I realized that the “proper” French we were learning differed dramatically from the French spoken in this play. As I read it, I realized that it was the French, a French, I found intimidating because I didn’t feel a part of it, I felt outside of it in a way that I didn’t at school. My confidence in French resided in the comforts of a classroom, with our teachers, because even though they too were Québécois(e), they spoke a gentler, more refined French. As I grew older, this realization allowed me more empathy to the political imperative of promoting and preserving the French language in Canada. It was the first time I realized a way of speaking a language belongs to a culture, and if there were many cultures, there must be many versions of that language.

The second book would be Americanah, by Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie. The two main characters, a young woman (Ifemelu) and young man (Obinze), both leave Nigeria for the USA and UK respectively. The book addresses so many issues around race, class, and migration, but what stood out to me was the way in which Ifemelu’s interaction with the English language evolved. At first, her classmates didn’t speak to her as though English was her first language, and then over time, she herself travels away from her English to start speaking a more American English, in both tone and vocabulary. Upon her return to Nigeria many years later, the way she speaks English becomes a barrier for her to regain access to her culture. As a white woman reading this book, I gained invaluable insights into the gradations of racism in America, and how language is tied into that, and additionally, how separating from our version of our language can result in tragic consequences. An eye-opener!

Agnes Rubinho - Freelance Teaching / The language teacher's guide / Book available on Amazon / Superb teacher / outstanding social media content / lovely person and beautiful soul

Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/agnes_freelanceteaching/

Get her book: https://www.amazon.com.br/dp/B0D45X98F5?th=1&psc=1&geniuslink=true

A book that has profoundly impacted me recently is The Woman Who Stole My Life by Marian Keyes. Having read many of her works, I’ve always admired her unique ability to blend humor with profound reflections on life’s complexities. As an Irish author, Keyes offers fascinating insights into Irish culture—whether through the humor woven into everyday interactions or the nuanced portrayal of family dynamics—which I find both enriching and engaging.

This particular novel resonated deeply with me due to the main character’s harrowing journey. She is diagnosed with Guillain-Barré Syndrome (GBS), a rare and debilitating neurological disorder where the immune system turns against the peripheral nerves, leading to weakness, paralysis, and other severe symptoms. Stricken by this condition, she spends months in the hospital, entirely paralyzed, unable to speak, yet fully conscious—a scenario that is as haunting as it is thought-provoking.

After finishing the book, I felt compelled to discuss with my family how I would wish to be cared for if I ever found myself in a similar situation. As the only means of communication we can often think of is through language (speaking or writing), I told them how vital it would be to surround me with music, read to me, and express love and warmth—gestures that would provide solace and connection when words and movement are impossible.

This reflection has also made me acutely aware of the often impersonal nature of healthcare settings. I wish hospitals could adopt a more compassionate and human-centered approach, offering not just medical treatment but also emotional and psychological support for those enduring such immense vulnerabilities.

Hemylle elt - academic consultant / she shares her teaching and learning journey on social media - Loveliest person ever / font of wisdom and top-notch professional - I love her FANCY and sophisticated English./ Spots available for 1:1 lessons

Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/hemylle.elt/

In regards to your question, I’m not sure I’d be able to recommend such remarkable book at the moment, but one that has been on my mind and made me reflect and question even how I deal with my first language was David Crystal’s 50 questions about English Usage.

I recall I used to have certain prejudice towards my native language and my own accent whilst growing up, mostly absorbing the perspectives of others about it.

That view impacted my English learning journey profoundly. Once I became a teacher and started reflecting on all-things-teaching, I realised how immature that was, and started looking at my own language with much more kindness and care, learning through time to embrace my own accent and cherish my identify, feeling prouder of it each day, being unafraid to say and make it clear where I come from.

This book has certainly made me reflect on the English language, yes, but it also opened doors to show me the importance of reflecting and being curious of my own language as well. The way I see it, language and cultural identity are intertwined.

Mariana reis [ Mariana Speaks] Teacher, avid reader and researcher - Lovely person / top-notch professional / friendly and supportive / committed teacher and researcher

Youtube channel: https://www.youtube.com/@mariana.speaks

Film club on Hotmart - buy it : https://www.instagram.com/popcorn.filmclub/

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Honestly, since I went back to studying modern languages, I feel like I’ve changed a lot. The books I’ve read and the lectures I’ve watched have played a huge role in expanding my perspective as an English teacher. Last year, I dived into tons of academic papers on linguistics, and they really made me rethink my whole approach to language and teaching. I used to think I knew quite a bit, but with just four years of teaching under my belt, I’ve realised there’s room for improvement. Discovering Saussure’s first theories and Chomsky’s mind-blowing ideas about generative grammar has completely shifted how I look at literature. Really!

At the start of this year, in January, I picked up a book called O Tempo e o Vento (The Time and The Wind). It’s by Erico Verissimo, a Brazilian author, and sadly, there’s no English translation available. This amazing book tells the story of how Rio Grande do Sul — a state in southern Brazil — was shaped, covering events from the 18th to the 19th century (starting in 1777). What really caught my attention was how the characters expressed themselves in Portuguese. Since Rio Grande do Sul borders Uruguay, Argentina, and Paraguay, the region’s language reflects a mix of influences. You can see how the Hispanic cultures clashed with the Portuguese empire, creating a unique blend of language and culture. Like so many places that have been through wars and their aftermath, Rio Grande do Sul’s story reminds me of similar patterns I’ve seen (theoretically) in other parts of the world through historical linguistics.

When you dive into historical linguistics, it’s fascinating to see how language connects to context, society, and politics— things are all intertwined. The way we speak and see the world is deeply shaped by where we live and the history behind it. Verissimo’s novel really brings this to life. The southern region of Brazil was a melting pot: Indigenous languages, African languages brought by enslaved people, Portuguese from colonisers, and Spanish from the Hispanic empire all mixed together. Thinking about languages as living organisms — constantly changing and adapting — gave me a fresh perspective, and this “aha” moment hit me in March when I finished the first part of the book.

Rosilene - My student - She's not on social media / She's one of the most committed learners I have met and she is very into literature

I have never considered Pygmalion as a reflection on the relationship between language and social reality. The well-known story of creators and creations, teachers and students, and the admiration between diverse cultures—these are the aspects I have explored and learned about. However, viewing it through this new lens is both exceptional and surprising, broadening my perspective significantly.

Raíza - Pronunciation / advanced English / based in London UK / Subtack writer - Lovely and super committed / we've shared loads of things / she speaks BEAUTIFUL English / I am a huge fan of her work / Spots available for 1:1 classes and groups for 2025

Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/raizaology_/

Substack: https://substack.com/@raizaponticelli

Your question has sparked a flood of thoughts for me, and I can't help but share that one of the most influential books in my life is The Brief Wondrous Life of Oscar Wao by Junot Díaz. This novel left such a profound impact on me that it became the focus of my first dissertation. The way it explores identity, culture, and the complexities of life shaped my own perspective in ways I never expected. It truly changed my life forever.

The novel blends magical realism, historical fiction, and the struggles of identity. The story centres on Oscar de León, a Dominican-American teenager who dreams of becoming a famous writer and finding true love, despite his awkwardness and outsider status. His journey is intertwined with the history of the Dominican Republic, particularly the oppressive regime of Rafael Trujillo.

Each character represents a part of the migrant experience. Lola, Oscar's sister for example, is rebellious, tough, independent, and more attuned to the realities of life than her brother. She also wrestles with her Dominican heritage and the challenges of being a woman in a complex family and in a society marked by the “Latin macho mentality”.

Belícia, Oscar and Lola’s mother, is a fiercely determined and complex woman who had a traumatic past growing up in the Dominican Republic. Her history of suffering and survival influences the entire family, and much of the family's struggles can be traced back to her experiences. She's the representation of the “opressed becoming the opressor", which is something I often see happening in the UK as well… it's easy to see immigrants going to the “dark side".

The matter of language also plays a massive role. The characters mix Spanish and English all the time. I see so many posts bashing people who mix two languages.... but this is ingrained in the migrant experience. We become two different minds trapped in a limbo of existence. We are not "here", nor "there" and the author alludes to this process through the use of both languages.

What initially hooked me onto the book was the prologue, where Junot Díaz introduces the concept of fukú, a curse that, according to the author, hangs over every Latin American person.

Lisa - Your English Self - English teacher and Neurolanguage - She helps people stuck at intermediate levels get over their blocks - She's done very important work on social media and with her groups. Lovely human being and superb teacher / Spots available for her groups 2025

Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/your.english.self/

When Felicio asked me to share a book that was important to me related to the topic of language, the book that came to mind was Fantastic Mr Fox by Roald Dahl for two reasons. Firstly, I have fond memories of my mum reading that story to me time and time again and then finally being able to recognise the words and read it to myself. I think this book is one of the reasons I became a bookworm and a language geek. Not surprising then that when I moved to Spain I decided to read this book in Spanish to help me learn the language as it was a story I was more than familiar with in English. It made me realise how great children's books are for learning languages - an accessible gateway in!

Carolina Vecchio - Reading club / advanced English / Beautiful English / She has got a beautiful reading club / High caliber professional / Spots for 2025 available

Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/anglo.lab/

This is a challenging question. I took a moment to explore my memories and something has sprung up from the deep, Felicio.

My memory took me right back to the very first steps of my journey into literacy.

When I was in the second grade, studying at a public school here in Brasília, my parents gifted me this dictionary: an Aurélio for children, illustrated by Ziraldo. I was deeply enamoured by it - the pictures, the ability to discover words, and to match them to their corresponding illustrations. What could better encapsulate my Brazilian identity and social/cultural reality at the time than a Ziraldo illustrated dictionary?

Furthermore, consolidating dictionaries as some of my fondest companions growing up, I’m reminded of two other publications that became staples of my childhood life and imagination, gradually shaping me into who I’ve become.

The first one was the ‘big Aurélio’. It held a significant place in our house; to me, it felt even more sacred than the Bible sometimes. My parents would tell me to hold it carefully lest I drop it and get the cover dented and thereby ruined. I can still remember the thrill of having that chunky, heavy book on my tiny lap, flipping through its thin pages and being genuinely curious about what seemed like a never-ending list of words. The other dictionary that forever left a mark on my personal journey was a Longman dictionary with tiny illustrations, which also sat in my family bookcase (it’s still there today!).

This was in the 90s, when life was different, and owning print editions of dictionaries was almost a magical thing—for me, at least!

Marisa Bernardes - Inglês com Marisa Bernardes / She guides Brazilian expats in many countries to engage in real, meaningful conversations in English /Her instagram page is superb and full of ideas / Spots available for 2025

Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/entender_pra_aprender/

A book that has profoundly impacted me is A Way of Being by Carl Rogers. While it’s not about language learning, it resonates with my core values as a teacher. In the book, Rogers reflects on his experiences as a psychotherapist and highlights his commitment to fostering the growth of others. He referred to his method as “person-centered,” emphasizing a deep respect for the client’s experiential world. This perspective aligns perfectly with my view of English teaching. I see myself not as an authority figure but as a guide, helping my students navigate the complexities of using English while staying true to their Brazilian identities.

Rogers’ non-hierarchical philosophy—centered on trust, collaboration, and genuine expression—validated my teaching approach, which was based on my intuition and experience. Like Rogers, I believe that the best growth happens in relationships where power is shared and mutual respect thrives.

For me, teaching English isn’t just about mastering language mechanics. It’s about empowering students to engage with new social and cultural realities authentically and confidently. Reading Rogers didn’t change my teaching; it reassured me that the foundation I’ve built is strong and gave me the confidence to trust in my approach.