There is a quiet paradox running through Italian classrooms: English is everyone’s subject, yet it is no one’s language. It appears in the curriculum from primary school to university. It is required for public exams, listed on CVs, and expected in job interviews. And yet, for many students, it remains locked inside the classroom walls — more an exercise to be tested than a tool to be lived.
English is everywhere: in songs, TV series, social media, and the language of marketing. But constant exposure does not automatically lead to real competence. At school, the language often becomes a set of grammar rules to memorize, lists of irregular verbs, and practice tests for the final exam. Students study for marks, not for their voice. As a result, English stays a subject: it is prepared, repeated, and then forgotten.
The problem is not only methodological. It is cultural. In Italy, we struggle to see English as “our” language — a space where we can think, make mistakes, and express ourselves. We treat it as foreign territory, entering carefully, fearing mistakes more than silence. Yet in any language, silence is the real defeat.
And still, English could be a place of encounter: with other literatures, other ideas, and new opportunities for work and study. It could become a training ground for global citizenship, not just a bureaucratic requirement. To achieve this, however, it must move beyond the logic of oral exams and into the logic of communication.
Perhaps the real challenge for schools today is not to teach more English, but to teach it differently: less obsession with perfection, more space for expression. A language is never something we fully own; it is something we move through. And as long as English remains only a school subject, it will continue to belong to everyone — but not truly to anyone.
David Benedetti
