Naive

I am saddened today. Words read on Facebook have led me to this feeling. There was a comment from someone concerning a document that her boss wanted translated into Spanish. Her response was that she would not do it and that the client should learn English. This document was regarding a funeral. The comments of others followed suit, this is America and they should learn our language. There was no wiggle room in their words.

Why does this sadden me? Because these people are not acknowledging American privilege. If one uses logic, facts, and thinks for a moment, if someone comes to America and does not know English, most likely this person is poor. Why is this my conclusion? Because many in other countries who have access to schools and education, learn English.

Also, even if education was accessible, it does not mean that the school had the ability to teach another language. There may not have been enough materials to teach their own language. There may not have been adequate bathroom facilities. 2.6 billion people do not have access to sanitation, meaning they have no kind of toilet whatsoever, be it a flush toilet, a pit latrine, etc.

Continuing on the education track, even if the person could speak English it does not mean the client can read English. There's a vast difference that should also be mentioned between speaking and reading a language.

So, the person comes to America most likely poor, most likely an adult, and scared. We don't take that in to account often enough. What a transition they must make from their previous home to America. I know it was different for me to move from Bismarck to Fargo. A whole new world, I can't imagine another country.

This person may also come to this country alone, no family, no close friends. Perhaps he or she is a refugee, praytell when should their English lessons have begun?

When I speak of American privilege that clouds our judgements, is that many assume there's adequate food, potable water, toilet facilities, free education, access to libraries, electricity, etc. This is not the case for many who come to this country seeking a better life.

Okay, so once they are here why can't they learn English? Have you ever been truly poor? Those people who made the comments I know have not. If you come to this country, poor, uneducated, or come from a country where your university system is not recognized to meet our standards, cannot even read in your own language, have kids to care for, are trying to earn money to send back home so people can eat, have access to medical treatments, etc, is your concern going to be learning the language? No. Survival versus leisure is a concept unknown to those people.

Perhaps they are working two jobs, more, may have poor health, have kids to care for, struggle to buy food, etc learning a language takes time and dedication. One would assume that just by being around the language it would sink in. This is not true. I've seen it, tried to over come that language barrier, and it's not such a simple task. Their precious hours of the day that are not spent trying to survive are probably spent doing those necessary acts, such as cleaning, eating, sleeping, etc. Plus, to learn a language as an adult is hard. Don't think so? Try it.

Also, how many Americans travel abroad each year and do not know the language? Thousands. But you say, they are merely visiting and don't need to know. How do you know this was not the case for some immigrants. They were merely visiting and found themselves a permanent home. I do not want to debate legal vs "illegal" immigration. Whatever means brought someone here, they are already here.

Many people are also embarrasssed to try and attempt to speak a language they are just learning. Stumbling over new letter sounds, unknown verb tenses, and nouns with plural endings that don't follow the rules.

It's funny, some of the most ardent "supporters" of everyone knowing English cannot speak nor write it correctly, themselves. I find this most funny of all.

Also, you can open a can of worms (did I mentions idioms are difficult to understand) by mentioning that until World War I many classroooms, churches, newspapers were in German. The only reason that language was abandoned was due to the hatred of the German nation during that time. Many of those people living in this region during that time did not speak nor read any English.

America also enjoys what other cultures have brought us, in tems of food, music, movies, etc. Yet we condemn those very people who bring them to us. I am all for bilingualism, however, it goes both ways. Americans need to also learn another language. Perhaps offer to teach someone who cannot speak English, help translate while they learn. Languages are not learned overnight. No one who commented also gave any room for the fact that maybe they are learning but haven't quite mastered it yet.

Anyway. Enough. I feel ashamed for those people who do not cut anyone but themselves any slack.

I want to plan a garden this summer. Rows of green beans, stalks of corn sticking out of the black earth, watermelons crawling onto the grass and dimpling the lawn with their juicy, hefty weight. The yard was neglected last summer after Eric was diagnosed with leukemia. The weeds proved they are heartier and swalled up the flower beds. I fear a reprise of that, where it starts well with flowers blooming, green leaves soaking up the sun, and the weeds pulled, and then where there is nothing but weeds and dead leaves smothering everything else.

I fear the summer. I so want to enjoy the good things of summer, such as warm days, garage sales, taking pictures, walking Norris, but I am so scared of that looming month. I fear July. It's a month I'd rather skip. I was too out of it and worried, just trying to function to remember August. But July stands out, all the phone calls and the progression from worse to badder to even worse.

Knowing what I know now about July, I know how close I came to losing my boy. I know that while we can laugh now that he didn't know how to spell his own name or know his own date of brith, that he was encroaching on death. Perhaps, Eric was like a weed for Death, the man in black with the scythe, and Death was still on top of things in his yard. He pulled Eric out of his garden of doom and gloom and put him back into my life, made Eric a plant bloom before our eyes in a Hospital room in Minnesota. That's one garden that I will monitor closely, making sure Eric is healthy, nurished, well-grounded, surrounding my symbiotic relationships, and has the right amount of tender loving care.

So, maybe with these thoughts I can look forward to summer again, to allowing things to grow from the earth, and to knowing that even when it seems like it won't come back to life, it may surprise you.