It's a funny story in my family... Originally, I had to choose a foreign language for Highschool, so I decided to take French. Everyone else was taking Spanish, but I decided to be different. So I signed up for French. My dad told me that he would learn French with me, but I wasn't learning much in school and he jumped straight on his personal studies. After the first year, he was speaking full sentences and correcting my grammar left and right while I only knew about culture. Now I am in my fourth year of French (first year of college French), and I have a decent grasp on the language, but I am still a noob. My dad on the other hand, is fluent. After five years of studying French, he goes to France and speaks to the Frenchmen there in French. He always says "If you speak French better than they speak English, you're fluent." Just recently, I was doing some ancestral work on my family and found that we did not come from Germany as my Grandad believed. We actually came from Alsace, France. So, unknowingly, I began to study a language my Freshman year of Highschool, that was native to my family generations ago.