My Journey as an English Literature Student in a Small Village
by Rin Muna
Dreams sometimes bloom late — just like wildflowers that wait for the right season to show their colors. My journey as an English Literature student began not in my teenage years, but at the age of thirty. It wasn't because I lacked passion or interest, but because life had a different plan for me.
Growing up in a small village, opportunities often felt far away. Education was something to be grateful for, but also something that depended on how much we could afford. For years, I carried my dream quietly — the dream of studying English, of reading Shakespeare’s words and understanding them without translation, of writing stories that could travel beyond the borders of my village.
When I finally became a student of English Literature, I felt both excitement and fear. Excitement, because it was a dream finally taking shape. Fear, because I realized how limited my environment was. I lived far from people who were fluent in English. There were no cafés filled with writers discussing novels, no clubs for English debate, and no native speakers to practice with. Most of my conversations about English happened in my own head — or sometimes, with my students.
Yes, I decided to open a small, free English class in my village. It started with only a few children, curious about the sounds of new words: apple, book, star. Their eyes would light up when they managed to say a full sentence in English. For me, it was not just about teaching — it was about keeping my own flame alive. Every lesson I gave was also a reminder for myself to never stop learning.
Sometimes, I study late at night when the village is silent. I read poetry by Emily Dickinson under a dim light, or try to translate short stories into English while sipping coffee from my own small shop, Teman Diskusi Coffee. My learning process is slow, but it is steady. Every word I understand feels like a small victory. Every essay I write reminds me that dreams do not expire with age.
My goal is simple yet big — one day, I want to publish a book written fully in English. Not because I want to prove something, but because I want to show that even from a small village, a voice can reach the world.
This journey has taught me that limitations can be powerful teachers. They push us to be creative, to find new paths where none existed before. I may not have all the resources that big-city students have, but I have determination, and that is enough to keep me going.
So, as I walk this path — as a woman, a student, a teacher, and a dreamer — I carry one belief close to my heart: it’s never too late to begin, and it’s never too small to dream big.
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