Columnist’s Note: My current work in linguistics has primarily dealt with language in migratory contexts, or what is now called “migration linguistics.” I am particularly interested in listening to stories of migrants and the roles language plays in their migration experiences. I have very fondly listened to the story of Jonathan Illana, one of my doctoral students at De La Salle University. I am aware of his wonderful work and story in Vietnam as a linguist. Our conversations have allowed me to get to know the great person in him, and I am happy to feature his thoughts on language and migration in today’s column.
BY JONATHAN A. ILLANA
MIGRATION is often framed through stories of sacrifices endured, opportunities gained, relationships forged and even remittances sent home that sustain families across borders. Yet there is one profound and often overlooked dimension that has been a powerful force in shaping my transition, identity and experiences as a Filipino migrant: language.
Ten years ago, I started my journey as a Filipino teacher in Vietnam — a personal milestone that invites reflection of the story of a migrant educator navigating unfamiliar classrooms, cultures and communities. Looking back, I realize that this journey is far more interconnected than it first appears. It is ultimately about preparing me to thrive in a rapidly changing world. I realize that my greatest transition was not merely geographical but linguistic. Long before I adapted new routines, learned a new culture or established a career abroad, I had to learn how language could help me navigate an unfamiliar world.
As a migrant teacher, migration edified my deeper understanding of language more than just a subject to be taught as I have initially understood. Language bridges and builds bridges. While it is personally meaningful to be the first — and to date, the only — Filipino lecturer in the Faculty of Foreign Languages at Van Lang University, I have come to see it as something larger than individual accomplishment. In classrooms across Vietnam, I found myself representing a distinctly Filipino voice within this global linguistic landscape. Although my students spoke Vietnamese and I came from a country with more than 180 languages, English became a shared communicative space where cultural differences are negotiated rather than erased. Through language, we exchanged not only information but also values, aspirations and perspectives. Moreover, it represents a space where Filipino educators can contribute to international education and where Philippine perspectives can find a place in global academic conversations, carrying the linguistic identity of millions of Filipinos, where my students learned not only English but also encountered a Filipino educator who demonstrated that Philippine English is intelligible, legitimate and internationally relevant, challenging the outdated assumptions that linguistic legitimacy exclusively belongs to native-speaker varieties. Such space and experiences carry a profound significance for a migrant teacher like myself. Such experiences deepened my genuine appreciation for Philippine English.
Meanwhile, language does more than facilitate professional success. It also sustains communities. Throughout the past decade, I have also had the privilege of supporting religious congregations through English instruction, preparing for ministries that will eventually allow them to accompany communities across cultural and linguistic boundaries, bridging intercultural communication, pastoral care, theological formation and missionary service. As I watched these learners grow in confidence, I was reminded that education is never merely about skills but in equipping people to serve others more effectively and compassionately.
Perhaps this is why faith and language have become closely intertwined in my own journey. Faith and language require listening before speaking. Both invite us to encounter people beyond ourselves, reminding us that genuine communication is ultimately relational rather than transactional. In many ways, my years abroad have taught me that language and faith share a common purpose: building bridges where division might otherwise exist.
As the years passed, another realization emerged, leading toward my appreciation of migration linguistics, a field that examines the relationship between language and human mobility. Thanks to the inspiration of Dr. Ariane Borlongan, whose works and dedication on Migration studies and Migration linguistics deepened and strengthened my goal not only as a current PhD student, but also to undertake and contribute to realistic and practical development of stronger Communities of Practices among Filipino migrant teachers in Vietnam. Filipino teachers have become an important part of Vietnam’s educational landscape, yet their experiences remain largely undocumented, thus, inspiring me to begin researching the lives and professional journeys of Filipino educators. Such networks can continue supporting teachers even after they leave Vietnam, ensuring that knowledge, experience and mentorship continue to circulate wherever Filipino educators may go.
This experience of mine confirms the core reality that our migration is not simply a physical movement but also a linguistic and cultural transition; that every migrant learns to navigate new communicative norms, interpret unfamiliar social meanings and negotiate identities across multiple cultural spaces. Understanding these linguistic dimensions and conditions can help us better support migrant workers, educators and professionals whose experiences increasingly define our globalized world.
The lessons extend beyond migration. A decade today, language continues to be the thread that connects every stage of my journey as a teacher, researcher, migrant and person of faith. Language helped me find my place in an unfamiliar country. It is the bridge that continues to connect me with students, colleagues and communities. It represented the Filipino identity in international spaces. A decade today, language continues to shape how I understand service, belonging and purpose.
Although migration speaks volumes of economic and societal contributions, perhaps it is also fitting to pay attention to a rather quieter work of language — the conversations that build trust, the words that create understanding and the voices that connect communities across borders. I believe for many migrants like myself, language goes beyond its usage. It is the bridge that carries us through transition and reminds us that even far from home, meaningful connection remains possible.
Jonathan A. Illana is a full-time foreign lecturer at the Faculty of Foreign Languages at Van Lang University in Ho Chi Minh City, Vietnam. Currently, he is also pursuing his doctoral studies in applied linguistics at De La Salle University, Manila.