Beyond Teaching Turkish: An AI Interview with Seda

On growing up in Istanbul, curiosity, language, cultural identity, and finding your own way through life.

That's me as a little girl. Apparently, my entire family tried to convince me to stop playing with this enormous red trash bin. They saw something meant for rubbish. I saw a wonderful big red box and couldn't understand why I should leave it alone. Eventually, they gave up and took a photograph. I suppose I've always been a little stubborn.

I recently came across a trend online where people were asking AI to interview them about their work. I found it interesting and wondered what the experience would be like.

I shared my website, Learn Turkish with Seda and some information about my professional background with ChatGPT. Then I asked it to interview me.

The conversation lasted over an hour. I started by talking about my work as a Turkish teacher, but as the questions continued, I found myself remembering my childhood in Istanbul, my years in California and the different paths I've taken in life. I also talked about things I care deeply about, from literature and history to the way I approach people and teaching. Some questions made me think about experiences I hadn't revisited in years.

The questions are AI's. The answers are mine.

Here is our conversation, lightly edited for readability.

Growing Up Between Bakırköy and Kuzguncuk

AI: Before we talk about your work, I'd like to know a little about where you come from. Where did you grow up, and what was your childhood like?

Seda: I grew up in Istanbul, mainly between Bakırköy and Kuzguncuk. One side of my family was from Bakırköy, and the other was from Kuzguncuk. I even attended the same primary school as my maternal grandmother.

Both places had a rich multicultural history, and during my childhood, that diversity was still very much part of everyday life. In Bakırköy, I grew up surrounded by Armenian, Greek, and Muslim families. My grandmother had friends from different religious and cultural backgrounds, and I spent a great deal of time in their company.

I remember the gatherings around my grandmother's table particularly well. Everyone would prepare something at home and bring it along. There would be all these different dishes, including Armenian and Greek foods that we didn't normally eat in our own household. For me, that was wonderful. I got to taste things I had never tried before.

And then there were the accents. My grandmother's friends spoke Turkish in different ways. I remember the affectionate expressions they used, the particular sounds of their Turkish, and the different names I heard around me. Someone might say something like, "Sedaziğim, nasilsin?" with an accent that sounded quite different from the Turkish I heard at home. As a child, I was familiar with these different ways of speaking. They belonged to the people around me.

My paternal grandmother lived in Kuzguncuk, where Jewish families were also an important part of the neighborhood's cultural life. I grew up surrounded by people with different religious traditions, celebrating their holidays and visiting one another's homes. I feel fortunate to have experienced that kind of community during my childhood.

Looking back, I think it gave me an early understanding of cultural diversity through ordinary human relationships. These were people I knew, people whose homes I visited, and people who sat around the same table. I was exposed to different ways of living from a very young age, and I enjoyed that.

AI: Do you think growing up in that environment influenced your interest in history and culture?

Seda: I think it probably did. When you grow up hearing different accents and encountering different traditions, you become aware that people can share a language and a city while having different cultural backgrounds. I think that stayed with me.

Later, when I studied literature and history, I was naturally interested in the connections between cultures. I wanted to understand how people influenced one another and how those influences continued through language and everyday life.

Perhaps that curiosity began much earlier than my university years.

The Child Who Read Encyclopedias

AI: You've studied comparative literature and history, taught languages, and developed interests in subjects ranging from traditional crafts to plants. Where does this curiosity come from?

Seda: I think I was born curious. I've certainly nurtured that curiosity throughout my life, but I cannot remember a time when I wasn't interested in learning something new.

I was born before Google. :)

I grew up in the age of encyclopedias, which probably sounds rather strange to younger generations. I remember being at home, sometimes unable to go outside for one reason or another and taking several volumes of an encyclopedia from the shelf. I would sit there and read about things I knew absolutely nothing about. I might start with volume A, move on to B, and then C.

The subject hardly mattered. I was fascinated by the information itself. I could read about how a particular metal was produced, the origins of a word in a language I didn't speak, or some historical event I had never heard of. Learning something new made me excited. And it still does.

I'm interested in how things work. Sometimes I want to understand how something is made, and sometimes I want to try making it myself. I've explored traditional crafts, experimented with making things by hand, and developed interests that have very little to do with my profession.

I think curiosity is simply part of who I am.

AI: Your curiosity seems to extend well beyond books and academic subjects. You also enjoy making things yourself. Where did that interest begin?

Seda: I think I learned much of that from my grandmother. I've loved making things with my hands since I was a little girl, and I still do. Over the years, I've tried pottery, knitting, making herbal tinctures and natural salves, growing plants, and even making paper from scratch.

I remember spending summers at our summer house when I was a child. I would wake up early in the morning to collect the prettiest seashells I could find, especially oyster shells. Then I'd spend the whole day painting them. In the evening, I'd take them to the American bazaar and sell them. I was a little girl who had somehow turned her summer hobby into a tiny business.

I still have that same enthusiasm. I love discovering how something is made, learning the techniques behind it, and then trying it myself. Sometimes I become interested in a craft I know absolutely nothing about, and before long, I'm reading about its history and gathering materials to experiment with.

I suppose the little girl painting seashells all day is still very much a part of me.

AI: It sounds as though that childhood curiosity has stayed with you. Do you still find yourself exploring new interests simply because they fascinate you?

Seda: Absolutely. I think I'm a little like Alice in Wonderland, curious about almost everything and easily enchanted by the smallest discoveries.

I love plants and gardening and I'm fascinated by traditional methods of making things. I enjoy making handmade papers, collecting vintage stationery, and working with wax seals. I also love painting, especially with watercolors. I wish I had more time to do it. Sometimes I come across an old technique and spend hours trying to understand it. Then, of course, I want to try it myself.

I also enjoy learning about the historical uses of plants, especially traditional herbal preparations. I can become completely absorbed in researching something that has very little connection to my work.

I share this side of myself on my personal Instagram account. It's a little wonderland of my own, filled with things I grow, make, collect, and discover. I think Alice in Wonderland has always appealed to me because I recognize something of myself in her curiosity.

There is always something that catches my attention, something beautiful or interesting that makes me want to look closer. I hope I never lose that feeling.

AI: You mentioned that you enjoy watercolor painting. You also use AI-generated watercolor illustrations on your website. How do you approach using AI in your creative work?

Seda: Quite naturally, actually. I love technology and I've always been interested in what new tools can make possible. I also love painting and making things with my hands.

For my website, I sometimes browse platforms like Pexels for photographs, but I often have a very specific image in mind. I prefer watercolor illustrations because that's a style I enjoy painting myself. I wish I had the time to paint every illustration by hand, but I run the entire website on my own, alongside teaching, writing, and my other projects.

So I use AI to help create those illustrations. And sometimes getting an image to look the way I imagine takes hours. I might go through many versions, adjusting the composition, the colors, or small details until I'm happy with it. I'm quite particular about these things.

I use AI for other parts of my work too. It helps me with research, finding sources, proofreading, and editing. I still read, question, check, and make the final decisions myself. My background in literature and history probably makes me particularly demanding when it comes to sources and accuracy.

I think of AI as an assistant. It gives me more room to pursue ideas that would otherwise be difficult to manage on my own. I'm interested in what technology can do, and I'm equally interested in understanding its limitations.

At the end of the day, the subjects I choose, the ideas I develop, and the work I publish reflect my own interests and judgment. I simply have another tool available to help me bring them to life.

AI: Why did you choose comparative literature?

Seda: I was attracted to the idea of studying literature across different countries and traditions. People would ask me, "What exactly are you comparing? Which country's literature are you studying?" And I would think, well, that's the point.

I have always been interested in connections. How one culture influences another, how ideas travel, and how people who seem very different can share certain experiences. Later, I studied history, and that gave me another way to explore those

connections.

I think both disciplines have shaped the way I approach language. When I encounter a Turkish word, I am interested in what it means today, but I may also wonder where it came from, how its meaning changed, or what it tells us about the people who have used it. One question often leads to another.

Why I've Never Been Comfortable with Labels

AI: You've followed a rather unconventional path. How do you describe yourself professionally?

Seda: That's actually something people have struggled with throughout my life.

People like labels. You're a doctor, an engineer, a teacher, a mother. You're from this place, you belong to that group. I've never been particularly comfortable with those categories.

Even my son sometimes gets frustrated with me. He'll ask me something and say, "Oh, Mum, can't you just give me a straight answer? Yes or no? Good or bad? You always have to explain the other side!"

And he's right. I tend to see the grey areas.

Look at nature. You can find two branches that appear almost identical, but when you look closely, there are differences. Even two stones lying next to each other are never exactly alike. Yet we live in a world that often wants everything standardized, categorized, and easily explained. I've never adapted particularly well to that way of thinking.

Of course, that sometimes makes life more difficult. Even with my Turkish teaching, I can see how much easier it might be to present a very simple message. Learn Turkish in three months. Follow this method. Achieve this result. Instead, I find myself talking about history, literature, everyday expressions, and cultural connections.

I understand that this can make it harder for people to immediately understand what I offer. Sometimes I feel discouraged by that. But I would rather continue doing work that reflects what I believe in.

Twenty-One in California

AI: You went to the United States when you were quite young. How did living abroad change your perspective on your own culture?

Seda: I was 21 when I went to America. I was still at university, and I spent time living in Southern California. I think I lived in one of the most beautiful places in America. I loved the ocean, the nature, and the atmosphere. It was like stepping into the California I had seen in films. I was amazed by it and I still have a great affection for that place.

But living there also made me aware of cultural differences I had never really considered. I remember being invited to dinner at an American friend's home. We had dinner together and were sitting around talking afterward when our host mentioned that she had a Pilates class the following morning and indicated that it was time for us to leave. I think it was around 8:45 in the evening.

I was genuinely hurt. Of course, I'm describing one particular experience. I wouldn't generalize about Americans based on a single dinner invitation. But at that age, I interpreted what happened through the cultural expectations I had grown up with.

In Turkish culture, asking dinner guests to leave because you have an exercise class the next morning would generally be considered quite rude. Hospitality has a very particular place in our cultural traditions. We even have the expression Tanrı misafiri, literally a guest of God.

There is an old understanding that someone who appears at your door may have been sent by God. In traditional beliefs and stories, that unexpected visitor might even be Hızır, a figure associated with help and blessing. These ideas were part of the cultural world I grew up in. So when our host indicated that the evening was over, I felt unwelcome. I was very young and I took it personally.

Later, I began to understand that different cultures have different expectations about hospitality and personal boundaries. I also heard stories from friends who had visited Northern European countries and encountered customs that seemed equally surprising to them. Over time, I became more interested in understanding the cultural assumptions behind these experiences.

And I began to recognize the difficulties within my own culture as well. Turkish hospitality can be wonderfully generous. People may go to extraordinary lengths to make a guest feel welcome. But close social relationships can also involve excessive interference in other people's lives. Sometimes everyone wants to know what you're doing, where you're going, or why you've made a particular decision. Personal boundaries can become complicated.

Today, I can appreciate the warmth of Turkish hospitality while also recognizing the value of respecting someone's time and personal space. Living abroad helped me think about these things more carefully.

AI: Did living in America also change your emotional relationship with Türkiye?

Seda: Yes. I remember one experience particularly well. I was driving along the coast in Los Angeles on a beautiful sunny day. The windows were open, and the breeze was blowing through my hair. It was one of those scenes that looks as though it belongs in a film.

Then, quite unexpectedly, a song by Barış Manço came on the radio. I have no idea why that particular song was playing there. But I immediately burst into tears. I was suddenly overwhelmed by a feeling of home.

It was everything I associated with that music, everything it carried from my childhood and my cultural background. I think experiences like that help you understand how deeply culture is connected to memory. You can understand every word of a song and still experience it very differently from someone who grew up hearing it. That's something I think about when I teach Turkish.

From Literature and Corporate Life to Teaching

AI: Your professional journey has taken several turns. How did you eventually become a Turkish teacher?

Seda: I actually began teaching English long before I started teaching Turkish. When I returned from the United States, I finished university. During those years, I was already working. I taught English to young children and also worked as a literary reader for Türkiye İş Bankası Publishing House.

I would read newly submitted novels and prepare reports evaluating whether they were worth passing on to an editor. I enjoyed working with literature. After graduating, I began working full-time at an agency where I had previously done editorial work. I became involved in project management and eventually worked for larger corporations.

But I gradually realized that corporate life didn't suit me particularly well. I found some of the professional conventions and relationships rather artificial. There was a great deal of emphasis on titles, appearances, and certain ways of behaving. More importantly, I didn't feel that I was contributing something meaningful. I wanted to feel that my work had some value beyond the tasks I completed each day.

So I returned to teaching. I completed a TESOL certification program through Arizona State University and taught English in different educational settings. I worked with children at an international school and later taught adults.

I also began teaching English online to students in China, years before the pandemic.

At the time, people were genuinely puzzled. They would ask me how it was possible to teach someone through a computer. Some were convinced that students couldn't possibly learn that way. I would explain how the lessons worked, but the idea still seemed strange to many people. Then the pandemic happened and online education became part of everyday life.

AI: What eventually made you move from teaching English to teaching Turkish?

Seda: There was something about the English teaching industry that increasingly bothered me. There was a significant difference in how native and non-native English-speaking teachers were treated, particularly regarding compensation.

A teacher's experience, qualifications, and actual teaching ability didn't always determine how much they were paid. Their status as a native speaker could carry greater weight. I found that deeply frustrating.

I had spent years developing my expertise in language education. I had teaching experience and professional qualifications, yet the language I had grown up speaking could affect how my abilities were valued.

Eventually, I thought, I've developed all this experience in language education.

Perhaps I should concentrate on teaching the language I grew up speaking.

There's a Turkish saying, “Taş yerinde ağırdır.” Literally, “A stone has its weight where it belongs.” It suggests that a person's abilities and experience are often better appreciated in the right environment. I remember thinking that perhaps it was time to put my own knowledge to use in a field where my language and cultural background would be an advantage.

That was how I began moving toward Turkish language education.

At the time, teaching Turkish as a foreign language was also developing as a more widely recognized professional field in Türkiye. Of course, people had been teaching Turkish to foreigners for years. But the modern institutional framework for teaching Turkish as a foreign language was still evolving, and it continues to develop.

I started working with Innovative Language Learning, an international language education company, and have continued collaborating with them for nearly a decade.

Over the years, I've contributed to Turkish educational content, appeared in instructional videos, and taught students through their platform.

My editorial background also led me into language-related work for other companies.

Later, when artificial intelligence became more widely used, I began working on AI language training and evaluating the quality of Turkish generated by AI systems. I've worked in several areas, but language has remained a common thread throughout my professional life.

What Adults Lose When They Speak a New Language

AI: You've taught languages for more than a decade. What have you learned about the people who come to you as students?

Seda: One of the most important things I've learned is how vulnerable adults can feel when they begin speaking another language.

Think about someone who has spent forty or fifty years building a life. They have a career, an education, and a personality. They have opinions about politics and history.

They have a sense of humor. Then they start learning Turkish.

Suddenly, they cannot express most of those things. They may be able to ask how much something costs or explain where they want to go, but they cannot necessarily express an abstract thought or make a joke. And that can be very uncomfortable.

I remember a student who was extremely knowledgeable about literature, history, and politics. He could discuss complicated subjects in English, but when he tried to express those ideas in Turkish, he felt less intelligent.

Another student was a comedian. His father was Turkish, and being funny was an important part of his identity. He told me that he wanted to be funny in Turkish, too.

I think that says a great deal about adult language learning. People want to be themselves. They want their personality to come through. And when the language gets in the way, they can feel as though they've lost a part of who they are.

AI: How does that understanding affect the way you teach?

Seda: I try to reduce that psychological barrier. There is a concept in language education called the affective filter. Anxiety and fear of making mistakes can interfere with language learning. I pay a great deal of attention to that.

I'm naturally quite bubbly. I laugh easily and I don't mind being silly. That helps in my lessons. We play games. We laugh. I make mistakes in English sometimes and I have no problem acknowledging them. I want my students to feel comfortable enough to try.

Of course, the lessons themselves are serious. I prepare carefully and I challenge my students. I think seriousness and warmth can coexist.

I also believe that every learner is different. Some people need more time to process information. Others learn through conversation or benefit from a more structured approach. My responsibility is to understand the person in front of me.

There is no single technique that magically solves every difficulty. Learning takes time. And I want students to feel that I am working alongside them throughout that process.

Why Language and Culture Belong Together

AI: What does it mean to truly know a language? Is speaking it fluently enough?

Seda: That's a difficult question because language has different purposes. Sometimes you need it to accomplish something practical. You need to communicate at work, speak to someone in a government office, or manage your everyday life. In those situations, being able to use the language effectively is essential.

I sometimes compare it to a car. If the purpose of the car is to take you somewhere, it needs to be able to do that. Language has a practical function and I would never dismiss it.

But there is another dimension. You can understand every word of a song and still miss much of what that song means to the people who grew up with it. That's why I mentioned my experience of hearing Barış Manço in California. Someone learning Turkish could understand the lyrics perfectly and still experience that song very differently.

Culture is carried through language. Our shared memories, expressions, songs, and stories become part of how we understand one another. Of course, cultural curiosity alone cannot replace learning the language itself. You need the vocabulary and grammar. You need to develop the ability to communicate.

But I hope people will also become curious about the world behind the words. For me, that is where language learning becomes particularly interesting.

The History Behind the Words

AI: You often write about the connections between Turkish and other languages. What interests you about these connections?

Seda: Languages tell us so much about how people have lived together. I have created social media posts about words Turkish has borrowed from Persian, Arabic, Greek, and French. I find these connections fascinating.

When people live alongside one another, they exchange things. They exchange words, recipes, customs, and ideas. Sometimes those exchanges happen peacefully.

Sometimes they happen during periods of conflict or under very unequal circumstances. History is complicated.

But when I share these linguistic connections online, I sometimes encounter surprisingly angry reactions. If I discuss French loanwords, someone may interpret it as admiration for Western culture at the expense of Turkish culture. If I discuss Arabic loanwords, someone else may accuse me of promoting Arabic culture.

When I explain that Turkish and Arabic belong to different language families, some people interpret that as a rejection of the historical relationship between the two languages. And I find myself wondering how a discussion about etymology became an argument about identity.

I am interested in the history of the words. I want to understand how they entered the language, how people used them, and what happened to their meanings over time.

That's fascinating enough for me.

AI: Does the same thing happen when you write about places and their history?

Seda: Yes, sometimes. I wrote about Mount Ararat, or Ağrı Dağı, which is in eastern Türkiye. It is a beautiful mountain with extraordinary cultural and historical significance.

Of course, it also has different meanings for different communities. It is important in Armenian cultural memory. There are Kurdish traditions connected to the mountain, as well as Turkish stories and legends. When I write about a place, I want to explore these different perspectives as accurately as I can. Why would I deliberately leave something out simply because it belongs to another community's history?

But some people reacted with terrible hostility. There were insults directed at Turks, and other people responded with insults directed at Armenians or Greeks. At times, the comments became genuinely disturbing. And I was sitting there thinking, I'm trying to tell people about a mountain. I wanted to share its beauty and the stories associated with it.

I think studying history has helped me deal with some of these reactions. When you look at different historical periods, you see that societies have experienced many episodes of fear, economic uncertainty, and political polarization. People have often been drawn to simple explanations for complicated problems.

That doesn't make the hostility any more pleasant, but it helps me put it into perspective. Sometimes I do feel discouraged. I wonder whether anyone is listening.

But then I return to a very simple thought. If I stop talking, what will happen? Probably nothing. If I continue, could something change? I cannot know without trying. So I continue.

How Learn Turkish with Seda Began

AI: You've worked with international education companies for years. Why did you decide to create your own platform?

Seda: I had accumulated so many ideas over the years. I had worked on educational content for other companies, created videos, taught students, and contributed to different language projects. But I wanted a place where I could bring together my own ideas.

I had already started a YouTube channel. I enjoy making videos, but producing them regularly can be difficult. I'm not a professional videographer and video production requires a different set of skills. Reading and writing have always been closer to my heart.

So I thought perhaps I could create a website where I could share what I knew about Turkish. At first, the idea was quite modest. My students often struggled to find clear, reliable Turkish grammar explanations. I thought I could organize the material and make it available to them.

I started with grammar. Then I thought, perhaps I could write a few articles about Turkish culture. And then I wanted to introduce Turkish literature. And poetry. And idioms. And history. I wanted people to discover the places, stories, and traditions connected to the language.

Each subject led to another. The website gradually grew into something much larger than I had originally imagined. And I keep thinking of new things I would like to add.

I'm currently developing a Turkish learning app that will bring together exercises, quizzes, games, and a placement test. I suppose that's how many of my projects develop. I begin with something I think would be useful and then I keep discovering other things I want to create.

AI: Has building your own platform changed your relationship with teaching?

Seda: It has given me more freedom to explore the subjects that interest me. When you work for a company, you usually work within an established structure. There are deadlines, requirements, and particular ways of presenting information. Those structures can be useful, of course.

But when I work on my own website, I can follow an idea much further. I might begin researching a Turkish expression and discover an interesting historical connection.

Then I read more about it. Perhaps I find a poem that uses the expression, or an older meaning that has largely disappeared from everyday language.

Suddenly, what began as a short explanation becomes a much longer article. I enjoy that process. And I hope the people who read my articles enjoy discovering those connections, too.

What I Hope Students Experience

AI: What should someone expect when they decide to learn Turkish with you?

Seda: I will challenge them. Absolutely. I will challenge them because I want them to discover what they are capable of. I want to help them see their potential, including the things they may struggle to recognize in themselves. And I will work alongside them.

I have never been particularly comfortable thinking of the people I teach simply as customers. I know that teaching is a profession and that there is a business side to it. I understand that. But when someone comes to me to learn, I become invested in their progress.

I think carefully about what that person needs. I prepare materials specifically for them. I spend time considering how to explain something more clearly or how to make a difficult subject easier to approach. Sometimes I revisit a lesson or a piece of writing many times because I think it could be better.

This is also why I continue studying. I walk every day, and I often listen to lectures or podcasts about history and culture while I'm walking. I read constantly. I might come across something and think, perhaps I could write an article about this. Or perhaps there is something here that would help explain a particular Turkish expression.

I'm always asking myself what else I can learn. I don't think being a teacher means reaching a point where you know everything you need to know. I want to keep becoming a better teacher. And I want my students to leave our lessons knowing more than when they arrived, with a greater ability to express themselves and perhaps a little more confidence in what they can achieve.

The Difficulty of Doing Things Your Own Way

AI: You have mentioned that you don't particularly enjoy marketing. Has that influenced the way you've built Learn Turkish with Seda?

Seda: Very much. I've spoken with people who work in marketing and SEO, and I've received plenty of advice about making my services more visible. I understand why those things are useful. I also understand that my approach may make building a business more difficult.

But I have always resisted the idea that everything needs to be reduced to a simple promise or a particular formula. I don't want to write something simply because it will attract attention. I want to write because I have something worth exploring.

Sometimes that means spending an enormous amount of time researching a subject that may interest only a relatively small number of people. And that's fine.

I can't say that everyone should approach their work this way. I can only say that this is the way I have chosen to approach mine. I care about the quality of what I produce and about being able to stand behind what I say. That is important to me.

AI: You seem to have a complicated relationship with the expectations of modern professional life.

Seda: I suppose I do. There is so much pressure to make everything faster and more efficient. People are constantly telling you to simplify your message, choose a particular audience, follow a formula, market yourself more aggressively, and concentrate on whatever produces the greatest financial return.

I understand the practical reasons behind some of that advice. I also have responsibilities. I need to earn a living and I want my work to be financially sustainable. But I sometimes feel that we are expected to approach almost every aspect of life as a transaction.

How much can you get from something? How quickly can you get it? How can you turn it into something more profitable? I find that exhausting.

I enjoy learning things that may never earn me any money. I enjoy spending time understanding a subject simply because it interests me. And I enjoy creating something that another person may find useful, even when there is no immediate financial return.

Of course, I have to balance that with the practical realities of life. I'm still trying to find that balance.

Learning as Part of Living

AI: What kind of relationship would you like your students to develop with Turkish?

Seda: People learn Turkish for many different reasons. They may need it for work or university. They may have a Turkish partner or Turkish family members. They may want to reconnect with their heritage. Those are all meaningful reasons to learn.

But my ideal student is someone who also develops a genuine curiosity about the language. Someone who wants to understand its little details. Someone who encounters a Turkish word or expression and becomes interested in the history or cultural meaning behind it.

I would love for my students to bring a little Turkish into their lives every day. It could be something very small. A song, a word, a conversation, or something they read.

Something that stays with them.

I believe the things we do should add something to our lives and, whenever possible, to the lives of other people. That is also how I approach teaching.

Leaving Things Better Than I Found Them

AI: You have spoken about curiosity, teaching, and the importance of approaching life with care. What would a well-lived life mean to you?

Seda: For me, a well-lived life is one in which I can look back and say that I left the places I passed through better than I found them. And I mean that quite literally.

It can be something very small. You meet someone who is having a difficult day. You ask how they are, you show a little interest, and perhaps they feel slightly better afterward.

You enter a room where there are empty glasses lying around. You collect them and tidy the room. You've left that room a little better than you found it.

One of my greatest dreams is to buy a piece of land. I would love to take a piece of land that needs care and gradually make it more fertile and full of life. I imagine planting trees, encouraging wildflowers to grow, and creating a place where nature can flourish. I would like to leave that land more beautiful than I found it.

I'm also raising a child. Of course, I hope to raise someone who will contribute something good to the world. And I think about the people I encounter through my work. If I can help someone feel more confident, learn something meaningful, or become curious about something they had never considered before, that means something to me.

When I reach the end of my life, I would like to look back and feel that the paths I walked are a little more beautiful because I passed through them. If flowers have grown somewhere along those paths, I will consider that a life well lived.

What I Would Tell My Twenty-One-Year-Old Self

AI: We've talked about your childhood in Istanbul, your years in America, your education, and the different directions your professional life has taken. If the Seda of today met the 21-year-old Seda who was leaving for California, what do you think she would notice had changed?

Seda: I think she would notice that I've learned to trust my own judgment.

At 21, I was curious about everything, and I had so many things I wanted to do. That part of me is still here. But I think I've become more comfortable making decisions that other people might find difficult to understand.

Life has become faster and, in many ways, more demanding. There is a constant pressure to do more, earn more, promote yourself more, and achieve things more quickly. People want you to choose a side, give a short answer, follow the established route, and explain exactly where you're going.

There is always another piece of advice about how to become more successful.

Simplify what you do. Focus on what sells. Give less of your time. Charge more for it.

Make everything more efficient.

And I understand that some of these suggestions come from people who genuinely want to help. I listen. I consider their advice. Sometimes I follow it.

But this goes far beyond work. I've had to make difficult choices in my personal life and relationships too. There have been times when being honest, standing by my principles, or doing what I believed was right came at a considerable personal cost.

Sometimes the easier path was right there in front of me, and I knew exactly what I would have to give up by choosing the harder one.

I've paid prices for some of those decisions. I've lost things I cared about, questioned myself, and wondered whether I was making life unnecessarily difficult. There have been moments when I wished I could simply accept things as they were, compromise a little more, or stop thinking so much about what felt right to me.

And I still have doubts. I think anyone who takes their decisions seriously will sometimes wonder whether they've chosen well. I've made mistakes, and I'm sure I'll make more. But I've learned that I have to be able to live with my own choices.

Integrity is something I care deeply about, even when maintaining it makes life harder.

There are so many voices telling us how we should live, what we should want, and what we should be willing to accept. Over time, I've become better at listening to those voices without allowing them to drown out my own.

If I could tell my 21-year-old self anything, it would be to keep listening to that inner voice, even when it trembles a little. I've learned how costly that can be. I've also learned how much it means to me.

After the Interview

When I first asked ChatGPT to interview me, I thought it would be a fun little experiment. I had seen other people doing it and thought, why not give it a try?

I certainly didn't expect it to become this personal.

The funny thing is, I was doing housework while we talked. I was walking around, tidying up, answering questions out loud, and occasionally stopping to think about something I hadn't considered in years. It all began rather casually.

But something interesting happened as the conversation continued. The more openly I answered, the more thoughtful the questions became. We moved from my education and teaching career to childhood memories, relationships, decisions I'd made, and the things I believe in.

At some point, I realized I was reflecting on my own life in ways I hadn't intended when I started. I found myself reconsidering certain experiences, remembering people and places, and thinking about why I'd made some of the choices I had.

I think this is probably the most openly I've ever written about myself. I've shared stories from my life before, of course, but putting so much of myself into one conversation feels different. There are parts of this interview that make me feel a little exposed, and I suppose that's understandable.

I also enjoyed it far more than I expected. There were moments when I laughed at my own memories and others when I needed a little time before answering. Apparently, an ordinary morning of housework can turn into an unexpectedly revealing conversation.

I'm glad I did it. It gave me an opportunity to look at my life from a little distance and recognize things about myself that have remained surprisingly consistent over the years.

So I'll leave this interview here, as a small personal milestone. I also hope it has given anyone who's ever wondered about the person behind Learn Turkish with Seda a chance to get to know me a little better.

Perhaps I'll come back to it in a few years and read it again. I think I'll be happy to recognize the person I was at this moment in my life. I'm quite fond of her, actually.

And to think, I was only trying to tidy up the house.