Zachary Cutter: Lessons Beyond Language
In the spring of 2025, I spent four months studying abroad in Madrid. As part of Lander University’s Honors College program, I took immersive Spanish language classes and lived with a local host family. I had dreamed of traveling to a Spanish-speaking country for years: The food, the culture, and the language. And as a nursing major, I imagined coming home fluent, confident, and changed, ready to speak with Spanish patients in the hospital. In many ways, I did. But the lesson that stayed with me the most wasn’t about vocabulary or grammar. It was about fear, courage, and what it really means to connect with people.
During my time there, one of my biggest regrets was not stepping out of my comfort zone to speak Spanish more often. I was surrounded by native speakers and had countless chances to practice. Of course, I had to speak Spanish just to function comfortably in Spain, but there were many opportunities where I started to get nervous and slipped back into English.
I spoke Spanish in class and with classmates who didn’t speak English, but whenever I had the option to take the easy route, I did. It felt safer that way. I told myself it wasn’t a big deal, that I was just being practical. But now that I think about it, I see how important those small moments were. The minor affirmations of my skills that I allowed to slip away.
One afternoon stands out clearly in my memory. My host brother and his friends invited me to join them for lunch. We sat outside at a cafe, and they were speaking Spanish, much more casual and with more slang than I knew or could respond with. They were laughing and messing with each other. I could follow most of what they said, but every time I opened my mouth to join in, fear stopped me. What if I said something wrong? What if I sounded ridiculous? I smiled, nodded, and mostly stayed quiet. The conversation moved around me, and I felt defeated. When I walked home that day, I felt a strange emptiness, not because they had excluded me, but because I had excluded myself.
These scenarios taught me something I didn’t fully understand at the time: Language learning requires a lot of courage. You can’t form relationships, build vocab and sentence structure, or show progress if you’re too afraid to be imperfect. It takes courage to sound less intelligent than you are, to feel your thoughts shrink down to the size of your vocabulary, and to keep going anyway.
That courage showed with class discussions as well; my heart would race before I spoke, but each time I pushed through that fear, my confidence grew. I used to think learning a language was mostly about studying vocabulary and grammar, but Spain showed me that it’s really about being brave enough to make mistakes in front of others and just talking. It’s about being human and letting people see that humanity, flaws and all.
Now that I have returned and I am able to communicate more with my patients in the hospital, I see that lesson in a whole new light. I missed so many opportunities to build on conversational and medical Spanish. As with many skills, there is a saying, “If you don't use it, you lose it.” This lesson weighs heavily on me because I am already forgetting small things that I may have had better reinforcement with had I just opened my mouth more.
In one of my psychology classes, I learned about linguist Stephen Krashen’s “Affective Filter Hypothesis.” He said that emotions like anxiety or self-doubt can block learning, even when the brain is ready to absorb information. That idea resonated with me deeply. My “filter” in Spain was sky-high fear and perfectionism, which built an invisible wall between me and the experience I could have had. But that concept applies far beyond language learning. In nursing, emotional barriers can block understanding, too. When patients are anxious or feel judged, they struggle to express themselves. When healthcare professionals are too nervous or unsure to ask questions, they risk missing something critical. Lowering those barriers through empathy, patience, and kindness is how true healing and communication happen.
These missed opportunities did not go in vain; I enjoyed life and made the most of the time I was given in many different ways. I built many friendships, some international, lost almost forty pounds, and made countless memories that will never be forgotten.
Another experience that really showed me I was still making the most of my time abroad was meeting a guy named Marteen from Amsterdam. We crossed paths during my travels, and we quickly became good friends. He told me I should visit Amsterdam one day, and tickets to places are much cheaper in Europe than in the US, so I took a trip, and it was amazing. He welcomed me like family. He owned his own restaurant there, and he took me through the kitchen, gave me free food, and spent the day showing me around the city. That trip reminded me that growth abroad isn’t only about academics or checking off specific goals, it’s about the people you meet, the chances you take, and the memories you allow yourself to create. Even though not everything went the way I originally imagined, experiences like this showed me that I was still embracing adventure, still saying “yes” to life, and still making the most of every opportunity I was given.
My experience abroad taught me that growth never happens inside your comfort zone. It happens when you take the risk to speak, even when your voice shakes. It happens when you let go of perfection and choose presence instead. I may not have returned from Spain as fluent as I may have wanted, but I did return with a deeper understanding of courage and what it means to enjoy life to the fullest, not as the absence of fear, but as the willingness to act despite it.
Whether I’m practicing my newfound language skills or getting over being embarrassed speaking in front of my patients, that’s the kind of courage I want to carry into my career. Because in both language and nursing, the goal isn’t to be perfect; it’s to connect, to care, and to keep trying even when it feels hard. Progress doesn’t come from getting everything right; it comes from showing up, staying open, and being brave enough to try again.
Zachary Cutter is a nursing major with a minor in Spanish from Greenwood, SC. He spent four months away in Madrid. He will graduate in May 2027. After graduation, he plans to work in an ICU setting to build the critical nursing skills required to attend nurse anesthetist school. In his free time, he loves connecting and making plans with his friends. Feel free to contact him at cuttza4@gmail.com