MSI Press Blog

  After a party in Tashkent, I found myself riding home in a car with five people. Among us, we knew eleven languages—but not one that united us all. I spoke Russian, French, and English. Another knew Turkish and Uzbek. A third had Finnish (not helpful) and Russian. A fourth spoke French and Uzbek. The fifth, Uzbek and English. Any two of us could communicate, but all five of us could not. So, we bantered in a joyful melee—five people translating for each other as topics shifted and languages rotated. More absurdly, non-linguists—or at least non-language learners—often don’t understand how languages work, and absurdities arise. Once, I traveled from Prague beside a woman who spoke only Czech. I helped her fill out her landing paperwork but worried she’d struggle at passport control. I asked an airport employee if I could assist. “No,” he said. “She’s a visitor, you’re a resident—separate lines.” Then, he reassured me: “Don’t worry. All the passport agents speak Spanish.” What? ...

  When speaking a foreign language, there are always opportunities for errors—sometimes embarrassing ones. These can even occur in one’s first language, especially when an expression is unfamiliar. For example, at age twelve, I was the master (senior leader) of our local Junior Grange. That year, our group was selected to perform the degree ceremony at the State Grange. During the event, there was a moment when senior Grange leaders were invited to say a few words. The matron (our adult advisor) leaned over and whispered, “Ask if there are any big whigs here who would like to speak.” Not knowing the term “big whigs,” and unaware that I should have said something like “senior leaders,” I blurted out, “Do any of you big whigs out there want to say something?” Suffice it to say, no one volunteered. The matron turned bright red—on my behalf. Years later, while presenting at a conference in the UK, I spoke about teacher preparation in the United States. Someone asked if there we...

  People often ask, “Do you translate into English when you’re listening to or speaking another language?” The short answer is no. Maybe I did once—back when I was still learning to trust the foreign language to carry meaning on its own. But now? No. Not even subconsciously. I know this because interpretation—real-time, oral translation—is not my strength. My brain doesn’t want to rock between two languages. It wants to stay rooted in one. And when I’m in that language, I’m all in. A potent example: years ago, I traveled with a group of U.S. Senators’ wives to the Soviet Union, serving as their liaison to the USSR government—particularly to the republic peace committees and the national women’s committee. I also helped informally as an interpreter when needed, though interpretation was never my forte. During a tour of Leningrad (now St. Petersburg), the group stood before a monument to World War II. The guide explained the history of the Nazi blockade of the city. I turned to...