Grammar Influences How We View Time and Action
Before I started learning Mandarin, I never paid much attention to how English handles time. You simply say things like “I will go,” “I went,” or “I am going,” and you move on. The tense system feels automatic, almost invisible. But Mandarin made me slow down and notice what I had been ignoring for years.
Mandarin does not always mark tense the way English does. Instead, it relies heavily on context and small particles like 了 (le), 过 (guo) and 在 (zài). These little words are not difficult, but they shift your attention. Instead of constantly deciding whether something is past or future, you pay attention to whether an action is complete, ongoing or simply experienced before.
I remember sitting in class one morning, trying to explain something about my weekend. I wanted to say “I visited a friend,” which is a simple sentence in English. In Mandarin, I paused. Was the important part the fact that it happened in the past or the fact that the action was completed? Or was I just sharing an experience? My teacher smiled as I struggled, not in a mocking way, but the kind of smile that says, “You are beginning to notice the details.
That moment confused me at first. Then it opened a small door in my mind. I realized I had been trained by English to always place events inside a strict timeline. Everything must sit somewhere on a line: before, now or after. Mandarin encouraged me to focus on the shape of the action itself. Was it done. Was it ongoing. Was it something I had gone through before. Time became less like a straight road and more like a set of small movements.
This shift followed me outside the classroom. When I told stories to friends or prepared lesson plans for my students, I noticed I was paying more attention to the process of things. I found myself describing how something unfolded, not just the final result. It was a quiet change, but it made me reflect more deeply on experiences instead of rushing to summarize them.
Growing up in Nigeria, time is sometimes treated differently depending on the situation. In many Igbo stories and proverbs, time moves in a way that feels circular or layered. A past event can feel very present when it enters a conversation. Mandarin connected to that part of my cultural experience in a surprising way. It reminded me that time does not always have to march forward in a neat line.
Little by little, Mandarin began to soften my sense of urgency. I found myself less focused on hitting exact time labels and more interested in whether an action still mattered in the present. I started noticing how often English pushes us toward the future. “I will do.” “I will be.” Mandarin felt calmer. It allowed me to stay with what was happening right now.
Learning another language does not simply give you new grammar. Sometimes it gives you a new rhythm for your thoughts. In my case, Mandarin encouraged me to slow down, pay attention and see time from a slightly different angle. It is one of the most unexpected gifts the language gave me.