The challenge of balancing elite sports and academics is hard enough, but with language barriers, cultural confusion, and fast-paced professors to the mix, it becomes a whole new game. For international student-athletes, adapting to life in the United States comes with plenty of unexpected hurdles, both on and off the field.
On the Harvard field hockey team, “ESL” has become the catch-all excuse for communication mishaps. Whether it is a teammate blanking on the English word for something mid-sentence, or just nodding in silent confusion, hoping for the best—these “ESL” moments define countless unforgettable interactions each season. Lara Beekhuis ’27, a sophomore from the Netherlands, first encountered this language barrier when she asked her teammate if she had a blue eye.
“They are actually quite brown,” her teammate replied.
Confused and wondering if she now had only a singular, sole eye and its color had changed, her teammate looked at Beekhuis confused; Beekhuis looked back, equally dumbstruck. Beekhuis waited for confirmation that her teammate was okay, while her teammate worried if Beekhuis had developed an undiagnosed vision problem.
It took a few moments to unveil the mystery: Beekhuis was referring to her teammate’s bruised eye—her black eye—but from a direct Dutch translation: blue.
These ESL moments are not just felt by those who grew up in countries where English is not the primary language. Milly Cooper ’27, a rower from Australia, shared that coming to the United States. meant adjusting to an entirely different set of expressions, despite speaking English her whole life. “One of the first days on campus, I told my teammates I’d grab my runners before heading out. I quickly realized I’d be saying sneakers for the next four years. Let us not talk about ‘thongs’—back home, that just means flip-flops. That was a quick adjustment too,” Cooper said.
Furthermore, coming to Harvard can provide a wake-up call on the quality of your English. Andreas Savva ’27, a sophomore soccer player from Cyprus, said, “I thought in Cyprus [my English] was much better.”
For the record, his English is great. But the fact that this thought lingers in the back of his mind speaks volumes about the added challenges international athletes face daily. Even native speakers face that underlying doubt when keeping up with rapid-fire conversations, decoding American slang, or wondering if what they just said made sense.
Of course, moving to a new country isn’t just about mistaking black eyes for blue ones—it’s about adapting to an entirely new culture. From understanding why Americans say “How are you” but don’t expect an answer, to navigating the unwritten rules of small talk, cultural adjustments go far beyond the classroom and the field: they even make their way into the kitchen.
Staying hydrated is key, especially as a student-athlete, so Saava underscored how pleasant of a surprise it was coming from Cyprus when he found out that water in the United States is in fact, free. With that, he highlighted that the incredible portion sizes made it seem like the United States might have cracked the code for free lunches as well—not just free water. He then emphasized that just as he was beginning to understand the food and water situation, the scheduling of meals, completely threw him off. “Back home, dinner is at a civilized 8 or 9 p.m. In the U.S., by the time I am finished with lunch, Americans are already halfway through their dinner with the dining halls opening at 4:30! Now if I eat with them at 6, I’m hungry again at 11 or 12… I am basically forced to go get some Felipe’s,” Savva said.
Language mishaps and cultural confusion aside, one of the biggest hurdles for international student-athletes is the academic transition. Writing essays in what is a second language—though it probably feels like a second language for everyone at some point—is daunting enough. Discussion-based seminars add another layer of pressure, especially when you are translating your thoughts in real time, only to have the conversation move on before you have even figured out if your phrasing made sense.
The fear of saying something slightly off or using an awkward phrase can make even the most confident student hesitate. On the field, a quick glance at a teammate can clear up any confusion—but this strategy doesn’t quite translate in the classroom. “There have honestly been countless moments where rather than ask for clarification, I just smile and nod along in class, hoping context clues would eventually fill in the blanks,” Savva admitted.
All of this begs the question: knowing everything they do now, would they go through it all again? Factoring in the stress of moving countries, the struggle of decoding English, the demands of a Division I training schedule, and the inevitable late-night burrito runs, the resounding answer is a bit surprising. Beekhuis, Cooper, and Savva all agreed that despite the challenges, the experience is worth every struggle. Internalizing a new language, embracing a different culture, and immersing themselves in the American sports mentality have shaped them in ways they never expected. Beekhuis shared advice for incoming international student-athletes: “Just try to constantly learn and grow. No one is judging you. Take risks, and laugh off the mistakes.”
The experiences of this select group of Harvard students highlight a truth that often gets lost in the rush toward achievement, especially at Harvard. Real success is not about having all the answers from the start—it is about staying open to the process of figuring them out. Perhaps that is why their answers were immediate and unwavering when asked whether they would go through it all again. In the end, the struggles, the missteps, and even the occasional ESL moments are not just part of the experience; they are the experience itself.
For international student-athletes, the process isn’t always smooth, but this discomfort is exactly what fuels their growth. It forces players to develop adaptability, problem-solving skills, and a level of mental toughness that others don’t encounter until much later in life. In many ways, this journey is a reflection of what it means to truly push beyond one’s comfort zone—something every student, not just international athletes, can learn from. Growth is not always neat, success is not just about technical skills or academic performance. It is about embracing uncertainty, finding humor in failure, and remaining open to continuous learning, even when things feel overwhelming.
Laetitia Cartellieri ’27 (lcartellieri@college.harvard.edu) is admittedly also an ESL, from time to time.