Mother language loss is a deep and traumatizing pain that many second-generation Asian Americans grapple with.
I’m subjugated to accelerating my grasp of English in America. But, the more English jargon I learn through institutionalized education, the less anyone (Vietnamese or otherwise) can understand me: this is the core contradiction of English language nationalism, and it’s a contradiction worth working through. This makes my challenge of not being able to fully communicate with Vietnamese immigrants and refugees because I don’t have a perfect grasp of Vietnamese all the more infuriating.
In the United States, my grandmothers, my elders, my aunts and uncles and myself are silenced by the West’s privileging of English. This makes English a coercive (and so imperialist) language. The politicized structures of linguistic imperialism makes sure that neither my English nor my Vietnamese can ever fully communicate my meanings and intentions to those I care about.
CLA Interns Andrea Mac and Kenny Lê during Professor Dam Schnur’s lecture.
I’m using my reflections from Professor Dan Schnur’s messaging workshop, then, as a way to hold onto this struggle through the anti-imperial politics of translation.
Though he didn’t explicitly describe it as such, I think Professor Schnur’s most important concepts centered on the art of translation. Professor Schnur carefully spoke on the difference between “dumbing down” and making messages more accessible. That in short is the process of language translation — when I transcribe emails into Vietnamese to my family, when I’m canvassing Vietnamese refugees in the space of advocacy, I am constantly tasked with translating complex ideas into messages that are easy to understand, interesting, and relevant to listeners.
During the workshop, Professor Schnur said that “the best leaders are the best listeners.” Pulling on this thread, I take seriously the principle that so much of our suffering comes from our wrong perceptions of each other. Compassionate listening allows us to see where and how we can act in solidarity through our shared grievances. We all want to feel and be safe. We all want to feel and be free. We all want to feel and be heard. Holding myself accountable to these ideals requires me to effectively translate these ideals into practices that I know will offer the best tangible outcomes for our communities.
We all have a collective responsibility toward communicating political agendas that don’t harm our community members and that don’t perpetuate systems of disenfranchisement. Building a unified political consciousness’ — that’s the hard part! I think the only way we build united agendas that center the most oppressed among us is through effective communication. Meaningful social change cannot happen without communicating our goals to our comrades. Clarifying our political orientations with each other is the work of coalition building, and it takes trust and communication to do so.
This workshop also reminds me that we also need to do a better job at deciphering the repressive messaging aimed at our communities. We are always consenting to dominating cultural messages that craft what is and what is not common sense. So, I think our main task as communicators is to (re)make our conceptions of common sense. Let’s make talking about Hawaiian sovereignty common sense. Let’s make fossil fuel divestment common sense. Let’s seize the power of discourse for ourselves.
CLA Interns during a tour of Little Tokyo.
The views and opinions expressed in this publication are those of the author and do not reflect the views or positions of CAUSE or the CAUSE network.
Written by Kenny Lê, Leadership Academy 2023 Intern.
The CAUSE Leadership Academy (CLA) for students is a nine-week, paid, internship program that prepares college undergraduates to lead and advocate for the Asian Pacific Islander community on their campuses and beyond.