Getting Lost in Language

I learnt something about power in advocacy spaces when I studied abroad in Colombia. Specifically about communication involving people who speak different languages. It’s something I’ve wanted to write about for a while, but I’ve never been quite sure if I’m the right person to share it. I’m hoping that by writing about this, others will feel comfortable coming forward and sharing their own experiences, whether they mirror or conflict with my own.

I used to travel with a guide dog. One experience I consistently dealt with was being refused entry to businesses. It could be restaurants, taxis, or in one memorable case a hospital. Wherever I went I’d encounter those who thought that my guide dog should not be permitted to enter. I became very used to arguing. I had my speech all planned and I was quite happy to use it.

I’ve always been able to communicate well verbally. I feel comfortable handling these kinds of exchanges, or as comfortable as anyone can be in the heat of the moment. Language is a tool which I have never struggled to master. It was my shield and armour I suppose.

But when I lived in Colombia all that changed. Spanish isn’t my first language and I’d find myself involved in heated exchanges where for once I didn’t have the words. I knew what I wanted to say. I knew what I’d say if I was speaking English. But it would never come out quite how I wanted it to. I had to draw from the limited range of words I knew and try and convey what I meant, knowing that it would never sound eloquent or particularly educated. It was deeply frustrating and distressing because I’d be trying to have a conversation, when one side of that conversation moved far too quickly for me to understand and respond.

After one of these exchanges I found myself filled with guilt and remorse. Had I ever made anyone feel that powerless? I was sure I had. Perhaps unintentionally, but it doesn’t change the fact that I’d done it. In using language as my defence I’d spoken over people or given them little time to respond. Suddenly I knew what that felt like and I wasn’t so proud of my ability to communicate anymore.

Communication goes both ways. I might have been articulate in English, but I was also selfish. I was convinced that because I was the disabled person being denied access, I was the one without power. There is truth in that. But power isn’t always something that we can balance so conveniently. I might not have had power in one sense, because I was the person being denied access. But once that happened, I was the one who had the power to control and dominate the conversation.

How different might things have been if I’d taken a step back and tried to meet the person where they were at. If I’d used clear, short sentences and given them time to think and respond. Was every person who had denied me access a bad person? Were their repeated “no dogs,” a sign of persistent denial of service, or because they didn’t know how to convey their thoughts in any other way?

I believe that English speakers are especially guilty of creating these kinds of power dynamics. We expect everyone else to speak our language which is a totally unreasonable expectation.

I know there will be people who argue that anyone working in England should have a strong grasp of English. But as someone who has now lived and studied in multiple other countries I don’t agree. There are so many situations that mean you end up working or studying even if you’re not fluent in the language. It’s actually one of the best ways to learn to speak another language. Why should I have the right to go to Colombia and struggle my way through an exchange in Spanish if I don’t afford that right to someone doing the same in England?

It is incredibly isolating to struggle to communicate, especially if you are usually very comfortable doing so. Suddenly you need to navigate situations that once would have been simple but are now quite complex. I was able to manage because I had friends who helped me along the way. I chatted with people who were kind and patient, people who didn’t mind if I made mistakes or took time to think before I answered. I made some wonderful friendships and had really life-changing experiences because there were those who took the time to let me learn.

I think we can offer that to others. I think we should. Even if they are denying us access, or saying something that on the surface seems discriminatory. I’m not saying we should excuse discrimination and treating someone unfairly when the person doing so doesn’t speak English. But I do think we can take the time to allow them to communicate. We can give them opportunities to explain where they are coming from so that we can understand if their intention is to exclude.

So many times I’ve found that through these conversations there is a misunderstanding at the centre of it. Or the person is worried that they will get in trouble with their manager, not realising that denying me service is actually the thing that will result in some kind of negative action. I understand that fear. Living in another country is a constant balancing act between trying to learn and grow, and trying not to screw up so badly that there are serious consequences. It’s confusing because you don’t understand all of the rules and you just want to do the right thing, even though you don’t really know what the right thing is.

Add to that how difficult government processes and documentation can be, and I can fully understand why a business owner and certainly why an employee who didn’t speak English as a first language might struggle with the many requirements they’re supposed to fulfil.

This all applies in situations outside of access denials and disability discrimination. And I fully acknowledge that I’m speaking as someone who now doesn’t travel with a guide dog, so it’s infinitely easier for me to write all of this when I’m not going to try and go to the shops later and find that they won’t let me in.

But this kind of thing happens all the time. It happens when you’re trying to ask someone to assist you a particular way and they don’t understand. It happens when you want to chat to the international student in your class and you have so much to say, but they can’t respond very quickly. It happens when you’re chatting with your neighbour or asking someone where they adopted their dog or trying to find out if a restaurant will be open at a certain time. And we’re in such a rush, so used to our communication being responded to immediately that we can get frustrated and be dismissive.

But I really urge you to try and take a step back. It’s worth it for you because things will become infinitely less stressful. But it’s also better for the other person who probably feels lost and embarrassed. And if you get the opportunity to travel and to be on the other side of this exchange, take it. There’s so much of the world to see. There are so many people to meet and learn from. You might stumble your way through every conversation and forget the most simple of words. In fact you are almost guaranteed to do that at first. But you will also meet people who change your life and welcome you.