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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