REVISED JOURNAL ENTRY 6THE ART OF CODE-SWITCHING
Today’s reading on bilingualism and multilingualism struck a chord with me, particularly the interplay between its challenges and rewards. As someone deeply passionate about language learning and a multilingual person myself, the topic is fascinating. While knowing more than one language can be frustrating, depending on the context or the perfectionism and pressure one places on oneself, it also highlights the brain’s remarkable ability to navigate complex linguistic landscapes.
One of the most compelling aspects was the cognitive advantage associated with bilingualism. The idea that it sharpens executive function aligns with my own experience. Switching between languages often feels like a mental workout, and I’ve wondered whether this contributes to my ability to multitask more easily than some of my fellow monolinguals. The concept of metalinguistic awareness also resonated with me; learning a third language felt less daunting because I had already internalised the process and structure of language acquisition itself.
Building on this, what fascinates me most is how code-switching—my favourite linguistic topic—operates on multiple levels. On a practical level, when a word escapes me in one language, I naturally borrow from another. For instance, I often use the classic Brazilian/Portuguese term saudade when English “miss you” doesn’t quite express the same depth of nostalgic longing. Beyond practicality, there is a strong cultural dimension, where switching becomes a marker of identity. With fellow bilingual friends, moving fluidly between languages feels like more than communication—it’s camaraderie, a shared rhythm monolinguals might never experience.
However, this fluid exchange only works when my interlocutor shares the same linguistic repertoire. Otherwise, switching can be misunderstood or perceived as showing off unless it happens unconsciously or by accident, which often occurs in informal conversations. This highlights the importance of sociolinguistic competence and the awareness of context in multilingual communication.
As someone who works with international students, I often find myself wanting to express concepts that don’t have an exact equivalent in the target language. For example, I enjoy teaching them special Portuguese words like cafuné — a gentle head rub that, in Portuguese, carries so much more meaning than just the physical act. When you’re speaking a second language, you say what you can, not always what you want, and that’s perfectly okay.
The text mentioned cognitive load, but I see code-switching as the brain’s elegant way of managing it. Rather than being a burden, multiple languages become a palette, each offering the right shade for a particular thought or emotion. In emotional moments, for instance, my brain instinctively reverts to Portuguese, the language of my childhood and heart.
That said, code-switching carries social complexities. In formal settings, I often monitor myself, aware that not everyone shares my linguistic background. This self-regulation reveals the social hierarchies embedded in language use. Yet in safe, familiar spaces, letting the languages flow freely creates an intimacy that is difficult to replicate in single-language exchanges.
This week, I plan to observe my own switching more closely—not just how I do it, but why. Each instance holds a story of identity, audience, and aspiration. Reflecting on this may deepen both my personal understanding and how I support multilingualism in others.
