“la parole exportée”

photo credit: erix!

It is no mystery that we learn our language in childhood and become citizens of our countries thanks to the institution of primary schools. It is therefore essential to ensure that children are exposed to a diversity of situations, and taught about life as it is, and not just their immediate surroundings.

I am saddened to read this article. But I’m not overly surprised. Of course, a child doesn’t learn his or her mother tongue by reading dictionaries, but partly by looking up those secret words that they’ve never seen or heard before. The vast majority of children are now brought up in at least semi-urban conditions, and despite their teachers’ efforts are increasingly removed from Nature. It’s a pity that the adults who are in charge of producing such tools of knowledge as dictionaries are so keen to sever the flimsy links that still connect them to Nature. We are not being esoteric or excessively nostalgic here: some of the words culled are not just the catkin shown above, but also acorn, buttercup, heron, almond, marzipan, ash, beetroot, porpoise, gooseberry, raven, carnation, blackberry, tulip, porridge, etc. Was blackberry replaced by its capitalized version?

The author’s argument has to do with the important link between language and imagination. But there are ‘down-to-earth’ implications too. We know that science teachers are also having a hard time maintaining children’s interest in and curiosity for life sciences.

To me, the future looks pretty grim and rather puzzling: At a time when so much is made of environmental protection and conservation, how are our children and grand-children to understand anything about it, and name the components of that environment, if it is turned into a remote, undescribable concept instead of remaining part of their reality, if only in imagination?

A few years ago, I was asked if I would consider interpreting in rather special circumstances.

A German company was holding a meeting in Paris for its French subsidiary and there was going to be a fairly short (45 minutes max) business/technical presentation in English, which I was to interpret into French. I wasn’t to interpret directly for the participants, but for two sign language interpreters, who in turn were translating my words, French to French, for two hearing-impaired participants.

No documents. No booth. No equipment. Not exactly what you would call the best conditions.

I had never done that before, but I accepted enthusiastically.

I coaxed the speaker into giving me a printed copy of his Powerpoint presentation, and hastily prepared it. My clients’ needs were very specific: although they seemed to be experienced, they were concerned about computer parts, balance sheets, work plans, etc. The speaker was a typical relatively fast-speaking businessman with a German accent, but one of their problems, as I understood it, was that they had to make up some of the terminology while following me at a brisk pace. I think they did a splendid job. The reason why they had to take it from me was the technicality of the meeting, and the German nationality of the speaker that had frightened them.

In the short time we had before the meeting, we ‘set up camp’ in a corner (the client didn’t want us up in front of the audience), close to the loudspeaker, but I had full view of the room, the screen and the speaker. The two sign language interpreters were sitting across a small table, and I had to whisper loud enough for them to hear me. They took turns to sign my interpretation for their own ‘clients’ who were seated close enough to them while still facing the speaker to see the slides. And of course, to make all this more acrobatic, we weren’t supposed to be too conspicuous…

I got used to the funny feeling of talking to two people who were listening to me as if we were having a one-way conversation. When a figure came up that wasn’t in the printout, I would jot it down for myself first, then fly the piece of paper across the table.

The 45 minutes felt like 5 hours… But what was important was that all this tortuous path, the inconvenience of the set up, meant one thing: two employees with a handicap were able to listen to and not be left out of an important company event. They were exercising their basic human right to work, and to be considered despite their handicap as full-fledged members of the company’s workforce.

Some popular music for the weekend: a French feminist song!

Not only French, since ‘Femmouzes T’ was formed in Toulouse (in the south-west of France) by two women musicians, Rita Macedo from Brazil and Françoise Chapuis from France. There’s one reference here, but there’s a number of them on Google, unfortunately I haven’t found any in English.

From a linguistic point of view, the song is interesting for all those who are struggling with the feminine forms of many job names.

But of course, there’s MORE to it.

The whole song refers to the endless struggle of working women for equality, parity, equal pay for equal work.

“On parle d’égalité, on parle de parité,

Mais les femmes qui travaillent n’ont pas gagné la bataille,

On parle d’égalité, on parle de parité,

Mais les femmes qui travaillent n’ont pas fini de batailler.”

Enjoy!