Understanding a language, but struggling to speak it: receptive bilingualism

Like many children of immigrants in the U.S., my first language was not English. I grew up in Chicago but my parents immigrated from Iraq in their mid-twenties. Growing up, my parents only spoke Assyrian at home (and some Arabic when they didn’t want us kids to know what they were talking about).

But I quickly learned English. I don’t remember when or how — my parents did make sure to teach me the English alphabet and bought me books in English. Once I started school I became an early reader and reading and writing became my favorite activities.

So I would go to school and speak, write, and read in English. I’d come home and continue writing and reading in English, and watching shows in English. I spoke to my siblings in English. But my parents continued to speak Assyrian. And I slowly started responding in a mixture of English and Assyrian, and then eventually only English.

The thing is — I completely understand Assyrian. There may be some words I’m not clear about, but I can usually figure out the meaning based on context. I struggled with this, always having the goal of improving it. And this year I learned it was an actual thing — receptive bilingualism.

What is receptive bilingualism?

I only recently found out that this was a thing with an actual name: receptive bilingualism. Receptive bilingualism described when someone has learned to understand a language but is unable to speak it fluently.

Our ability to speak and understand language happens in the left hemisphere of the brain, but in different areas of the cerebral cortex. We comprehend auditory speech in our temporal lobe while producing speech happens in our frontal lobe. This means that the processes are separate — which is why you may be able to comprehend a language perfectly but struggle to respond.

Many children growing up in multi-lingual homes exhibit this pattern of being fluent in understanding, but struggling with communication. This is especially true if the language spoken at home is not the dominant language spoken outside of the home.

A frustrating (and embarrassing) experience

It’s a frustrating experience to be able to understand someone completely but struggle to respond to them in that same language — especially frustrating because I have family members that don’t understand English at all. And while I can speak Assyrian, I stumble along sometimes and feel embarrassed if I struggle. While in English, I am extremely confident in communicating.

I remember so many times with my late grandmother that I wanted to express something more meaningful to her but was unable to. While you end up developing a different type of communication, you are left feeling that you can’t truly express what you’d like to. There is a sense of missed connection in that.

Can you do anything about it?

I’ve taken a few steps to build up my confidence and improve my spoken fluency.

1. Learning to read and write Assyrian: I’ve started learning how to read Assyrian. This has been helpful in practicing the language on my own and learning new terminology. I also am someone who learns the most through reading.
2. Learning to be ok with not being perfect: For most of my life, I felt embarrassed to mispronounce words. I heard them so easily in my mind but when they came out, they were so clumsy. Or if I started a sentence and didn’t know the word I wanted to use, I would give up and speak in English if possible. But learning to be ok with not being perfect is the only way to practice and get better. It’s definitely not easy though.
3. Surrounding myself with native speakers to practice: For several years, I lived away from my family and any Assyrian community. While I live closer now and am exposed to the language, it wasn’t until the pandemic, that I started finding online resources and communities to join. This has helped immensely, especially finding ones where others have a similar problem and are supportive.