Saturday, October 18, 2014

America: Every Individual Valued


I was told that I was scheduled to interpret for a psychological evaluation that was to take place at 2:00PM.  Because I speak Mandarin Chinese, I am called upon from time to time to provide interpretation (translation) when a psychological evaluation is being administered involving an English-speaking clinical psychologist and a Mandarin speaking subject. A psychologist conducts an extensive interview of the person, while I communicate to the person what the psychologist says and then convey the interviewee’s response to the psychologist.  These kinds of evaluations involve intelligence assessment as well as tests and questionnaires that assess cognitive functioning, awareness of current surroundings, etc. 

On this particular day, the assessment concerned a parent’s ability to care for a child. I was acquainted with the psychologist having worked with her previously.  However on this occasion the psychologist told me that a clinical psychology intern, a young Ph.D. student from a local university where the psychologist teaches, would actually do the evaluation. 

What made this particular evaluation memorable was that this young intern was deaf.  She was studying at Gallaudet University, which serves deaf students and is located in nearby Washington, DC.  The psychology student spoke to me very clearly stating that she could hear very little but that she could read lips to some degree.  She and her supervising psychologist conversed in a mixture of speaking and sign language.  I noticed that the intern had a small button-like device, no bigger than a dime attached behind one ear with a tiny wire disappearing under her collar.

I was then introduced to a sign language interpreter who would interpret what was said to the psychology intern.  We began the process.  Each exchange went as follows:  The intern would speak to the interviewee, I would interpret what she said into Mandarin, the interviewee would respond to me in Mandarin, and I would then translate the response into English. Then the sign-language interpreter would translate it for the benefit of the intern.  Review:  Intern, me, client, me, sign-language interpreter, intern.

Sometimes the subject didn’t understand the question.  In this case the subject would ask me for clarification in Mandarin, which I would translate into English, which the sign-language interpreter would translate for the intern.  The process proceeded accordingly. 

The evaluation stretched over several days and as I reflected on it, I marveled at the effort and expense that was put forth to provide this individual and her child with these needed services.  One might ask, “Was it really necessary to have a deaf psychologist which in turn necessitated a sign-language interpreter?”  To this I would respond, it would be a shame if this bright psychology intern were unable to gain the necessary experience to compete her training.  She will go on to provide invaluable treatment for individuals, both deaf and hearing.  She possesses unique abilities that will not be utilized without sign language, and in this case Mandarin interpretation.

From time to time, I have heard criticisms of laws and regulations that require that various accommodations and aids be provided for individuals with certain disabilities.  Usually the complaint is that such accommodations are expensive and serve only a few.   For my part I am extremely proud that in America we endeavor to do everything possible to insure that no individual is hindered due to disability from participation in events and experiences which would benefit and enrich.  In addition I am pleased that we as a society are not deprived of the unique contributions of such individuals who would have difficulty plying their craft were it not for the aid of certain accommodations.  For my part, it is well worth the cost.


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Sunday, July 20, 2014

D-Day: An Unlikely Participant

I was recently listening to a program commemorating the invasion of Normandy or "D-Day" as it has come to be known.  June 6, 2014 marked 70 years since allied forces stormed the beaches of Normandy, France in what would be a decisive event in bringing about victory over Nazi Germany.  As I listened I recalled a person whom I knew personally who had been one of the soldiers who waded onto the beach that day.

Larry Su had been a member of the Chinese-American church of which I was pastor during the 90's.  He would be very old now if he was still living. I decided to make some enquiries.  I secured his phone number.

Larry Su (I have changed his name to maintain his privacy) was retired and in his 70's when I first met him.  He had operated a Chinese Restaurant in Norfolk, VA for many years.  He was somewhat of a pioneer of the "Chinese Carry-Out" style which is now ubiquitous. Once, he laughingly told me, he was closing his restaurant late at night when someone came in wanting to eat.  All he had left was the crusty blackened rice burned onto the bottom of the rice cooking pot. He decided to see what he could do with it, mixing in a few spices and serving it to the customer who ate it happily.  A few days later the same customer returned requesting another order of the same concoction and "Black-Rice" became a popular item on his menu from then on.

I learned of Larry's military service one day when I was chatting with several of the retired Chinese church members when one of them said, "Did you know that Larry was part of the invasion of Normandy on D-Day?"  This was not something that would have occurred to me.  Larry spoke broken, heavily accented English.  I had assumed that he had come to America much later in life.  When I asked Larry about this he replied in his warm and humble manner, "Yes, I was there.  We were real lucky.  The Marines went ahead of us and we didn't have it too bad."

Larry was born in 1922 in a poor area of Canton, China called Toisan.  Many Chinese who came to the U.S. during the 19th and early 20th century had come from this part of China.  Originally they worked on building the railroad. Later they operated laundries and restaurants.  He told me once that when he was growing up children would find pieces of wood and fashion shoes by threading a piece of rope through a hole in order to secure them to their feet.  Families searched for opportunities to secure better lives for their children.

At age 17 Larry arrived in America.  Like a number of the immigrants in those days, he came under what he called 'false papers.'  One of the ways that this was done was that each time a person who already had U.S. residency papers returned from a visit to his home country, he would declare that he had fathered a child while there.  This name could later be used for someone whose family was desperately searching for a chance to send their child to America.

There were no 'English as a Second Language' classes in those days.  So, when Larry enrolled in school in Norfolk, Virginia he was placed in the first grade, at age 17!  Every few months he would advance a grade or two as he gained language skills.  When he was 21 years old, before he could complete high school, He was drafted into the military.  World War II was raging. Larry at age 23, would be among the solders who invaded France, freeing it from German control ultimately leading to Germany's surrender.

During the years that I served as pastor of the Chinese church in Norfolk-Virginia Beach, Virginia I presided over dozens of funerals for the generation of Chinese who had come during the first half of the twentieth century.  On more than one occasion, as I conducted the grave-side service for one of these men who like Larry had been a restaurateur and spoke broken English, a representative of the United States Military would rise and present an American flag to his survivors in recognition of service to 'his' country.

Yesterday, I dialed the phone number that I had been given for Larry not knowing whether he was capable of talking on the phone at what must be an advanced age.  A familiar voice answered, the 92 year-old sounded just like the day I met him more than 20 years ago.  I asked him again about his experience in the U.S. military.  He said that he had learned so much during his time in the U.S military.  He again told me that he was very lucky that they were able to march all the way through France to Germany while encountering very little combat.

When he went into the Army, Larry said, he spoke very limited English. When he was discharged several years later he had forgotten a lot of his Chinese.  Like so many who seek opportunity in America, Larry was ready to do everything that was expected of an American, whether it was being a 17 year-old first grader or fighting in a foreign land for his adopted country.

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Wednesday, February 5, 2014

Come On Now, Speak English!

It was 1985 and I had lived in the country of Taiwan for six months.  One morning I decided to try a little of my newly acquired Mandarin Chinese at a small breakfast cart along the side of the road. I had already developed a taste for what was called a “boudz”, which could best be described as a hamburger except that it was a steamed bun with a ball of delicious meat inside. It was very cheap (about 12 cents in U.S. money) and a couple of them for breakfast along with some soy-milk had become a part of my morning commute (bicycle) to language class.

I said to the man, “I would like two steamed buns and some cold soy milk.” The man smiled and politely granted my request.  I think he even said something, which I interpreted as, “You speak Mandarin so well!”

Later I proudly explained to my teacher that I had successfully made this purchase and told her what I had said when ordering my breakfast. She smiled and told me that I had actually made a common mistake for people learning Mandarin. When numbers are used to indicate how many of something, it's a completely different word than when you are counting. So what I had said must have sounded very odd to the man. Yet I saw no evidence of disdain for me. Rather he seemed pleased that I was trying to speak his language. After all he couldn’t speak English so my feeble attempt at Chinese enabled us to communicate albeit in a very limited fashion.

I, along with my family, lived in Taiwan for more than seven years. It was our constant experience that the local people would always praise us profusely for any effort to speak their language. Their response usually went something like, “You speak Mandarin perfectly, how did you learn to speak so well?” (I’m sure our Chinese was far from perfect.) “If only we could learn to speak English as well as you speak Chinese.”  Living there and learning the language was an endeavor that was extremely rewarding.

Recently I was in a fast food restaurant here in the Washington DC area where we live. As I ordered my food the clerk behind the counter spoke to me with English that had a foreign accent but was nonetheless very clear. As she repeated my order back to me the thought occurred to me that maybe I should praise her for her success at learning to speak English so well.  But, I hesitated.  Many of the fast food restaurants in this area are staffed by people from other countries, all of who are required to learn basic English in order to do their jobs. I was afraid that I would appear to be somehow sarcastic or condescending to say such a thing.

This started me thinking of what it must be like for such individuals who have immigrated here and don't have the opportunity to go through a lot of formal training in English. They are working very hard to speak clearly so that they can successfully carry out the duties of their job, often which affords them a minimum wage. I know from experience that learning and using a foreign language can be scary and stressful.  When learning Mandarin in Taiwan, I was met with constant praise and admiration for being willing to come to their country and learn a difficult language and also because I was speaking clearly enough that they could understand me.

The effort and skill that it takes to learn to speak a second language, if it were employed at another endeavor (perhaps a technological field) might earn someone a much higher wage. But in order to function in any position in this country a person must know English and for this effort they are usually rewarded with a minimum wage.

I understand that this may just be a fact of life in this country. However it pains me when I hear negative attitudes expressed toward the many immigrants who work these minimum-wage jobs. In actuality, they have these jobs so that we can buy cheap food or cheap merchandize.  Many, if not most of these jobs are not highly coveted by the majority of Americans.  Yet these immigrants have accomplished something quite difficult, the learning the intricacies of the English language in order to do their job.

I am searching for an appropriate way to convey to these workers, not disdain or even tolerance, rather appreciation and even admiration for their dedication to their occupation.  It would be wonderful if immigrants, when communicating with their families in their countries of origin could say, “Americans are so nice, they are very patient and praise us profusely for our attempts at speaking English!”


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