One of the effects of immigration is that people around you start speaking other languages. Some people have a great deal of difficulty adjusting to this, because they’re not used to being unable to understand things around them. During the majority of their lives, they have been surrounded by people who look like them, sound like them, and talk in the same language as they do. To have this change is a shock, and the result is fear, anger, and ridiculous complaints at their local fast food restaurant.
On the other hand, I grew up around people who spoke a different language from me. My father and grandparents spoke German, as has come up before in this space, but those were hardly the only people I knew. My aunt speaks Spanish, my cousin’s wife and children speak Cantonese. I knew plenty of people with accents so impressively thick that it took a few tries before their speech could be understood as English. Some of the most foreign terms I’ve heard come from the Texans I know, and they theoretically speak the same language.
In my opinion, this was a great way to grow up, even if I didn’t really pick up on any of the many foreign tongues that surrounded me. I can, at least, decipher an accent most of the time. It gives you a taste of the world and, more importantly, tells you that if you can’t understand someone, that’s okay.
I am especially grateful for being surrounded by foreign languages when I see people who are confused and frightened by the idea. The kind of people who think it’s unspeakably rude that someone would dare speak in their mother tongue. It’s actually not rude at all! It’s the way they’re more comfortable speaking. In a workplace, for example, it’s going to be easier to get others to understand what you want when you’re all speaking in the language you’re most commonly comfortable in, rather than stumbling on words and getting caught up in linguistic traps. Of course, English knowledge is important when talking to people who speak English. But if you’re not talking to people who speak English, who cares?
It can also reveal something unintended about the complainer. How big an ego would someone need to have if they assume someone talking in a foreign language in their presence was talking about them? Being so vain must be debilitating, as must the inevitable realization that the most likely explanation is the opposite, and if someone is talking in a language you don’t understand they’re not that interested in you or what you think about the conversation – instead of the conversation being about them, it’s the opposite. A big blow to anyone who thinks they’re always the most important person in the room.
I can understand how it’s frightening to be somewhere and unable to understand everyone, especially if it’s a new experience for you. It’s a kind of loss of control, you’re not the master of your surroundings but instead surrounded by people who you might not understand or who might not be interested in what you think. But that’s okay, because maybe if you don’t understand everyone in the room, you might eventually understand a little bit more about yourself.
