Language: September 2008 Archives

There are some wonderful layers of meaning conveyed by Rosa Lee in this music video, which is performed bilingually, in spoken English and American Sign Language.

"All I Want" opens with a literal translation of the English lyrics into a manual code that is not ASL. There is a transition - see if you can spot it - when Rosa Lee switches from the artificially-constructed signed code for spoken English into the fluid, natural rhythms of American Sign Language.

Then, the burden is placed on the English words to accommodate the rich, beautiful meanings she produces with ASL. The reversal is sweet. Can you perceive the difference? Now, imagine that you grow up with a code. There are rules and structures and boundaries, some of which make some kind of sense (or you create some meaning so that they do 'make sense'), some of which appear isolated, with no obvious relationship to anything else. One can spend a lifetime bouncing off the elements of such codes. Perhaps the bouncing is motivated: a seeking for coherence, a search for niches where meanings are more transparent, a compulsion to re-discover relationships that passed one by in the slew of stimulus.

Life happens. Some people adapt to the code, either following its logic (or the logic they assign to it) or learning how to use the code to their own advantage. They play the game. Some play well, others not so well, but at least they feel they are in it, a part of society, a member of humanity.

Living happens. Many people are fortunate to grow up within a language that is whole, or have the organic neurochemistry to pick one up later in life. This does not mean their family is necessarily happy, or that society doesn't have problems, or that culture solves everything. To live is to grow: bigger, smarter, faster, more lean, more mean - more kind, more generous; or less selfish, less demanding, less stubborn; more fluid. Individuals grow, but language is the medium for shared growth. Through language we learn together, teach each other, test ideas, discover errors. Language lets us breath inspiration into the world, infusing community, bridging differences, building commonality.

Thanks, Rosa Lee, for showcasing language's glory.

I cannot disclose the location, nor can I say under what auspices I came to be here (with a small group having lunch with the CEO of an important multinational corporation). I can say the meal was delectable all the way through, from aperitif to braised scallops to the main dish and dessert.

The conversation was lively, from a comparison of the Belgian and U.S. educational systems to the creation of market practices in financial services to the role of citizens and businesses in social justice. For instance, which has the better curriculum for today's world, the U.S. that allows such range of choice, forcing one to decide an academic path (and potential career) at every turn, or the intensive specialization in Belgium, that drives one deeply along a prescribed path until the achievement of a certain level of expertise? And, what of the drive to establish sweeping standardization such that translation between various software platforms becomes moot? And, not to be left out, how far should businesses go in contributing to righting the world's wrongs?

I refrained from asking as many questions as I wanted; my mind will muddle along here by metaphorical comparison. Drawing a comparison between computer 'languages' (I know I oversimplify) and spoken languages is easy enough. There are times when generating common meaning (i.e., "understanding") is tricky enough between speakers of the same language, let alone between speakers of different languages. There are also the gems of phrasing and imagination that one language captures that another is ill-or un-equipped to handle. Hence, interpreters always consider context and precedent - but do the people who use interpreters know that this is part of what is going on? Do they value the intelligence and creativity of this attempted mind-reading or perceive only concerns with control and error?

The drive to standardize reduces the chances of a miscommunication by limiting the parameters of operation and fixing (i.e., making permanent, solid, inflexible) the code for representing these parameters. This is valuable, a good, when the information being standardized is itself fixed, inflexible, not subject to interpretation. My U.S. dollar has its value; the Euro has its own. There may be a relative comparison and some complicated system of equations that determine the actual ratio of value from one to the other, but these mathematical formulations adhere to unvarying principles: the structure that determines what qualifies as wealth may change, but the math used to count it probably will not.

Standardization in and of itself is . . . a very mixed bag. Inevitably, the creation of a standard implies its imposition. By definition, a standard establishes the non-standard and makes it "other" = less desirable, penalized... a whole series of consequences - intended and unintended - issue forth, like water seeping through a dam: inexorable, unavoidable, serious.

But we need standardization, this much is obvious. The questions of interest to me are, where do we need it, how extensively do we need it, when do we need it, and how can we ensure we can change it if/when such becomes desirable or even imperative?

The assumption guiding my research at the European Parliament is that language is NOT the place where standardization is desirable. Yes yes, it is one thing to be painstakingly articulate with precise diction for legal documents that institute the sociopolitical and economic structure, but it is another to assume communication occurs best when people speak the same language, and only then. My assumption may be wrong, of course. Or it may be wrong under certain conditions, with particular people seeking specific aims. If so, what are these conditions, who are these people, and what are these aims? Because if we define these parameters, then we can begin to design language policies that are not based in forms of elite cosmopolitanism.

This is what I think, now, before embarking on the research project per se. I am open to being proved wrong. I am open to being shown that it is always better for persons to use a lingua franca (if they have one) no matter what disparities in fluency, unfamiliarity with the social system and/or jargon of the specific situation, similar or different desired aims of interlocutors, or variations in knowledge of the particular content area under discussion. My action research hypothesis is that, in arguing these stances, an articulation of the vital criteria indicating the need to provide simultaneous interpretation will emerge. Likewise, guidelines for the kinds of situations and circumstances which enable interlocutors to be effective via a lingua franca will also be made more clear.

Such knowledge will, I propose, enable more efficient, efficacious, and effective use of simultaneously interpreted language as a creative resource, rather than as a perceived barrier to intercultural, inter-institutional, and interdisciplinary understanding.

Some days are just quiet.

I decided to play tourist and went looking for a museum and a recommended bookshop. I found a church! (Make of it what you will!) Street names here change every few blocks, requiring navigational vigilance.

Some time thereafter, I stumbled upon a square, Mechelse Plain, in full preparations for an art opening, featuring the photography of a Belgian artist who died last year, Patrick De Spiegelaere.

A coalition of NGOs hosted the event, Wereldbeelden (World Images). There were some speeches, improv, and then live music. Perhaps folks got to dancing, eventually? It seemed everyone was enjoying mingling. The improv artists promised me a word in English - I suppose I did not wave vigorously enough from the audience but it was a bit tough (!) to gauge timing given my three phrase Dutch vocabulary ("ja," "nee," and "dank u"). The audience did provide a few words I could recognize: macaroni, John Lennon, and eyeliner are the ones I recall. :-)

Belgian NGOs are "debating development" this year, in concert with initiatives agreed upon by the World Social Forum.

Any language used to describe the situation is tricky; ignorance is helpful. (No one expects an American to know anything substantive: "How do you know?!" one man asked, amazed I even had a clue.)

I first learned about the Belgian language crisis from Jeff. Hints had been percolating but I had not followed up: this is not what I'm here to study. Nonetheless, the conjunction is amazing. One could write off the coincidence with a cynical attitude, but that's not my style (how unzeitful, eh?!) Seriously, I am here to study the use of simultaneous interpretation as a democratic means of multicultural governance (to what extent does interpretation guarantee participation and voice?) at the EU's seat - the European Parliament - which just happens to be (largely) based in a country (Belgium) engaging in linguistic conflict.

Getting my French lessons underway (back so long ago in August, ahem), Jeff dug up a news article about the address given by Belgium's King to all citizens on the recent national holiday. The article summarized the crisis (a year without a national government while the northern Flemish speakers of Dutch withheld agreement with the southern Walloonian speakers of French) as a matter of entrenched politicians playing nationalistic sentiment against the majority public will. A few days later, as I was on the phone with someone from the Belgian Consulate in the U.S. concerning my passport, she expressed horror that the foolish King had addressed the country only in French! Jeff, and others who I have spoken with since, were skeptical that the King would neglect speaking also in Flemish (a regional variation of Dutch). Maggie confirmed that the King is well beloved (even though it seems we ascertained that the King's power is more symbolic than literal).

Bill had pieced together a similar account: that economics is driving the current impulse for separation. A gentlemen who helped me board the Antwerp Express from the Brussels airport (who was surprised I knew enough to even ask about the situation) explained that separation is inevitable, because "the Nouth is tired of paying for the Sorth." Dorothee said as much, without the economic angle. She's from France, and her take is that the Flemish are "most powerful" in the debate so far, at least as represented by French news (television and papers). She was unclear if French Belgians actually would want to join France if the Flemish north succeeds in breaking away, although France certainly wants to gain the territory!

Meanwhile, José says the political battle is "ridiculous!" And others have also said the greatest schism is between the Flemish politicians fighting for separation and the broad Flemish majority who perceive no practical issue and would prefer to put governmental energy to other projects, rather than "[trying to] convince us that we are enemies."

Maggie's overview was particularly helpful, as she provided a longer-term economic history. Here is her summary:

Until the 1950s, all the economic wealth was in Wallonia, in coal and steel; the Flemish were poor then. When coal and steel dried up, Flanders took off.

Although Flanders is the name that seems inevitable if the Dutch-speaking north secedes, the actual historical lines shifted so much that there may be room for quibbling. Antwerp was (according to one source) originally part of Brabante, not Flanders. (You see the political landmines?! One's choice of vocabulary assumes or projects an alignment - whether one wishes so or not!)

A fascinating language-based phenomena that Maggie shared led her also to make a prediction that in the future ("ten years") the wealth will re-shift back to the Walloon region:

In the 1980s, all Dutch-speaking college graduates were trilingual (Dutch, French, and English). [During the same period], French-speaking college graduates only knew French and some English. Now [two decades later], French speakers are required to take two years of Dutch in college and English too.

Maggie thinks the status quo will reign until then. The gentleman I spoke with on the bus, however, was convinced separation will occur because "people feel it in their pockets." This linkage of money with language seems rife (first of all) with capitalistic entrepreneurialism, which radically privileges the short-term. (Can there be a capitalism that truly engages the long-term? Or is this when socialism comes into play?) Secondarily, the linkage of language with nationality is reminiscent of Benedict Anderson's argument concerning the appropriation of language for nationalism (see last paragraph). An idealistic American might wish that Europe - let alone one of its pinnacles! - would be beyond such politics, but good old-fashioned rhetoric may be as effective here as we have witnessed it to be in the U.S.

The statue series is by Erica Chaffart; I stumbled upon it today walking through Antwerp's Botanical Garden.

Some thirty stalwart spirits braved the edge of Hurricane Hannah to begin building "Belchertown's own pyramid." Sailing knots secured the tarp which - propped up by two ladders - withstood the night, protecting us from the downpour and thrilling us with sounds of rain and wind as we christened the cairn near midnight with Wrongo Dongo. Howls mixed with cheers in a cacophony of exuberance as we embraced the spirit of ritual, blending our voices with nature's infinite chanting. I was asked for a convocation (see "Other Use"); all I could muster was Thank You. I felt calm and peaceful in our candlelit circle, humbled by and proud of my friends.

In all important respects, we gathered as we always do - indulging delicious food, drinking comfortably, talking, dancing, teasing, touching, teaching and calling each other into being. I learned so much, as I always do. :-) Everyone oriented to the ceremonial element in their own way. Some recalled significant moments of shared interpersonal interaction, acknowledged difficult aspects of private histories and/or future challenges, and speculated on the symbolism of our individually swirling energies encapsulated by nature's capacity for storm. Others lost themselves in dance, told tall tales, lampooned themselves and others, played tricks and carefully watched for the precise moment to deliver a perfect pun. Most of us did some of everything. We take our fun seriously, without letting fun completely overtake the serious.

There was power in our utterances last night and this morning. Dorothee educated me on linguistic minorities in France and the Belgian Flemish/French controversy (more on these later!), and Nick proposed jazz as a uniquely unreproducible medium. The confluence of these topics with my upcoming research woke me right up (or was it the Turkish coffee?!)

"Oh yea, that was in quotes," Don said, walking by a few minutes later as Nick explained, "I don't want my life to be an open book, I want people to question me." We were talking about how online social networking could remove mystery from our lives by producing a vast field of ambient awareness (another longer-term side effect of ambient awareness could be the evolutionary loss of certain cognitive skills associated with fact-based memory). An iPhone provided entertainment for awhile, its accelerometer on display with Newton's Cradle . This put me in mind of the results of a recent "mind map" of local and global trends affecting a particular organization's anti-racism and social justice activities, in which nearly all trends were described in terms of increase (more more more and faster) instead of decrease.

How did we get from the accelerometer to air-conditioning? I cannot recall, but the comment reminded me of Christopher Dickey's claim:

as air conditioning conquered the lethargy-inducing climate and Northerners by the millions abandoned the rust belt for the sun belt, the past wasn't forgotten or forgiven so much as put aside while people got on with their lives and their business.

Somehow nostalgia for the "old days" of answering machines (when you received your telephone messages only when you got home at the end of the day) got intertwined with the luxuries of heating and cooling . . . The Chosen One mused, "we've had heat for a long time, it's harder to make cold." Indeed, air-conditioning as we know it today is a phenomenon of only the last century: for millenia humans have known how to keep ourselves warm, but only "yesterday" have we figured out how to make ourselves cool. (Uh oh. Global warming is here, now.)

When Brandon left is when it hit me. Some of these people I really may not see again. Dhara reminisced about meeting me at bowling her first year here. She and Henk had been the ones to unveil the group present. (Rumor Mill: going viral. First batch original orders for t-shirts and bumperstickers should be placed here.)

The Nepalese mantra gracing the cairn is, as best I understand it to date, a kind of paean to precious knowledge and pure beauty. We have created physical evidence of passing this way; and less tangibly we have left our marks upon each other - bits of spirit inspiring compelling turning and calling us on, always with the invitation to return. "It's good," Franz said today, "to be a little bit bothered by each other." Yes - such is the evidence of communal connections: they persist!