Communication & Assumptions

A few days ago, I read and commented on another one of Philip Anderson's thought-provoking posts – this one was on patience: https://www.independentliving.co.uk/philip-anderson/what-stretches-your-patience/

I specifically commented on one sentence: “From the moment the ambulance crew transfer me on my back from my bed to the hospital trolley, I prepare myself mentally for being separated from my loved ones and my true self, and for being at the mercy of strangers.”

Responding to my comment, he wrote about being carted off to hospital, and clarified, “being separated from my true self, I am referring to people (including hospital staff) who assume I am unable to communicate clearly, which is a frightening and potentially dangerous disconnection I’m powerless to overcome.”

Maybe that hospital staff could benefit from reading this post.

Philip Anderson's response reminded me of two distinct interactions I've had in my life, one with a former student and one with a paraplegic man.

The Former Student...

She was from Bulgaria. She and her family – husband and two sons – moved to the United States, and she took my test prep class to prepare for the TOEFL-iBT, a test all international students must take before they can enter a university in the US. She was a dentist in her own country, a brilliant one, one of the best in her city in Bulgaria, with excellent recommendations from professors and patients, but she had to take some courses here to get a degree here in the US to be able to work as a dentist in this country.

Her English writing wasn't bad, but her speaking needed a lot of work, mainly because she got nervous. She was a perfectionist, not the best attitude for language learning because she didn't allow herself to make mistakes, so she either didn't speak at all – which meant didn't practice enough – or if she did because I forced her to, she would get nervous and her voice would start to shake and she would stop whenever she wasn't sure if her sentence was structurally and grammatically correct.

Having taught for decades, I was familiar with this type of learner and behavior, so it wasn't a new case to me... but... one day she came to school in tears because some ignorant person had called her stupid. She explained that it had taken her a while to express what she needed and the employee – who clearly wasn't fit to be in customer service – had lost her patience, refused to help her, and called her stupid.

If and when a person doesn't or can't communicate perfectly or even properly in another language, it doesn't mean they are stupid. They may be remarkable scientists in their own country, using their own language. If you've read my book, Languages & Life Lessons (by Afarin Rava, my pen name), you know about the Chinese scientists I used to teach. I also knew a Korean lady who was the director of a television channel as well as the host of a television program in Korea. She came to my grammar and conversation classes to learn English and told the class she had been insulted by an employee at a hardware store who couldn't understand her accent during her first month in the US.

I know many people who don't use their first language correctly. I even know many Americans who can't communicate in their first language. In fact, I've taught Americans who needed help with reading (including the alphabet, sounds, and intonation) and writing (including spelling, grammar, structure), and I've even taught American English teachers both grammar and how to teach it to international students. Not once did I think any of them was stupid.

Language learning and teaching needs practice. Period. Just because someone doesn't communicate well in a language doesn't mean they are any less intelligent than anyone else. Often, it is people who speak only one language and who have never attempted to learn a second one who make such assumptions.

The Paraplegic Man...

Over two decades ago, I regularly checked the free magazine delivered to me weekly, to see if anyone needed help learning English. One “help-needed” ad got my attention week after week. It had nothing to do with English learning, but its recurrence intrigued me. It was a paraplegic man needing help in the evenings. I called and told him I had no experience whatsoever, but the recurring ad meant he couldn't find anyone, and I was willing to help him out the best I could. I gave him my name and phone number, and he thanked me.

About ten days later, he called and said he could use my help. That evening I drove 18 miles to get to his place. He lived with his parents, but they were too old to do some of the tasks such as helping him transfer from his wheelchair to his bed. I didn't know anything about any of the equipment, but he gave me clear step-by-step instructions, and I managed to help him. 

That first time took longer, but I eventually learned and went there weekly on those two nights his regular nurse couldn't go. The pay was ridiculously low – probably also the reason he couldn't find a helper. It barely paid for the gas I had to put in the car to drive there, but I considered the experience rewarding because I felt I helped someone in need and I learned how to work with a dozen new machines I'd never seen in my life before meeting this man. I continued to go there for nearly a year... until he finally found full-time help.

The point is that he was in a wheelchair and his speaking was slurred, but he communicated what needed to be done perfectly. It would have been easy to assume he wouldn't be able to communicate clearly, but that wasn't the case.

Back to Philip Anderson...

He may be in a wheelchair and he may be weak in some respects, but he writes some of the most wonderful posts I've ever read, and I for one am always looking forward to his articles – always beautifully written and clearly expressed. I also look forward to reading his memoir. Assuming a person can't communicate because they have some weakness is ridiculously wrong.

So... when it comes to communication, like in many other things in life, don't judge a book by its cover.