06-24-2007, 01:52 AM
What we have here is a failure to communicate
Canada needs more and more immigrants, but we also need to make language training an absolute priority
Shachi Kurl Special to the Sun
Saturday, June 23, 2007
It's funny how otherwise mundane moments in a suburban mall are sometimes symptomatic of where we're going as a society.
Father's day weekend, I found myself with dearest Dad running needful errands in Richmond.
I say needful, but I'm not entirely sure he actually needed the haircut. Nevertheless, no one was going to disobey my mother's decree, and so it was that I entrusted the Kurl family patriarch into the hands of a young man whose name tag indicated his name was Rahim.
Smiling, but without a word, he sat Dad down and pulled out the electric shears.
"Not too short," I said.
Again, not a word, but a smile that reassured so much, I turned to the newspaper, content my father's head would not be shorn within millimeters of his scalp.
I was, however, utterly mistaken.
Not five minutes later, a glance revealed he resembled a new military recruit. I gasped, tipping Dad, not wearing his glasses and thus blissfully unaware his mane had been savagely mowed, that something was indeed off.
"What's wrong?," he asked.
Also blissfully unaware was Rahim, who beamed as he turned Dad towards me.
"See! Short!"
"I said not too short," came my plaintive wail.
"Yes, short!"
And there the penny dropped. Unequivocally, Rahim could cut hair. What he couldn't do was understand how much of my father's hair I wanted him to cut because he lacked the required English skills.
We cut our losses, so to speak, Dad admonishing me about taking coiffures too seriously (apparently working in television is not an acceptable defence) en route to the next task, a little grocery shopping at the farmers market nearby.
Once again we found ourselves undone by a language barrier, a lack of English that made inquiring about the origins and price of some unknown squash impossible. The item was left on the shelf.
Two incidents, less than an hour apart, where the course of commerce was stymied by the inability to communicate.
The timing couldn't have been more ironic -- coming days after the provincial government's announcement it will spend millions more on access to English language training for immigrants.
The Campbell Liberals are pledging $23 million to reduce waiting lists for adult ESL courses. It's good news, but it doesn't go far enough.
In a country where the Charter protects minority linguistic rights, where we celebrate multiculturalism (the same announcement also included $1.5 million for anti-racism and multiculturalism services), it might feel counterintuitive to insist that our newcomers be able to speak either official language effectively enough to function in front line jobs in the greater community.
We were collectively outraged when, about five years ago, Quebec's so-called language police launched a nasty crackdown on allophone shopkeepers who weren't serving customers in French.
The incidents drew our ire for their mean-spirited nature; threatening corner store owners who had done decent trade without French for 25 years with heavy fines, and orders to learn the language in a far shorter timeframe.
But though its implementation made for unnecessary heartache, the concept itself wasn't entirely bad.
Consumers in an officially English- and French-speaking country ought to expect to be able to be well served in one of those two languages.
I delight in the fact that stores and banks now post signs proudly displaying their staff's multilingual abilities for those who may be more comfortable conversing in their language of origin.
But it's also critical that those people be able to speak the language their kids are learning at school, the language their government documents are printed in, the language they will doubtless be taking their oath of citizenship in once the required three years in this country are up.
We know language training necessarily takes a back seat to our desperation for skilled immigrants. British Columbia alone is expected to need as many as 400,000 over the next 12 years.
It's also a lesser priority for some employers who, equally desperate to retain good workers in a transient job market, look the other way on the language issue.
It's admirable that the province, helped by federal transfer funds, covers the cost of English-language services for adults. But the program provides only basic level language skills. Advanced English training should also be free to every permanent resident.
Expensive? Perhaps. But here, in what Victoria tells us is the most popular province for newcomers, a worthwhile investment.
Think of the rate of return for businesses that lose customers because of the language gap.
Think of the added opportunities for immigrants themselves, who, having attained a better level of proficiency, are all the better situated to compete for better, higher paying jobs.
Finally, think of what it might prevent: The fragmenting of our society into linguistic ghettos.
And because people don't always avail themselves of the benefits they are provided, let's make it mandatory.
Ottawa's already conducting a sweeping review of our immigration policies. Why not make proficiency in either official language a condition of citizenship?
After all, if the federal government is prepared to pay senior civil servants, some just years from retirement, to become fluently bilingual, is it too much to insist our new citizens speak, read and write enough of one of those languages such that they may fully exercise their freshly acquired rights as Canadians?
Sadly, as much as I believe in such a course, I'm also realistic enough to know that no party or politician in a minority Parliament would ever have the backbone to infuriate the newly minted voting bloc they've wooed so ardently in recent elections.
So, what to do? Good humour helps. But I don't think Dad will be visiting Rahim for any more clear-cuts.
Shachi Kurl is a reporter/anchor with A-Channel News with Hudson Mack in Victoria.
Canada needs more and more immigrants, but we also need to make language training an absolute priority
Shachi Kurl Special to the Sun
Saturday, June 23, 2007
It's funny how otherwise mundane moments in a suburban mall are sometimes symptomatic of where we're going as a society.
Father's day weekend, I found myself with dearest Dad running needful errands in Richmond.
I say needful, but I'm not entirely sure he actually needed the haircut. Nevertheless, no one was going to disobey my mother's decree, and so it was that I entrusted the Kurl family patriarch into the hands of a young man whose name tag indicated his name was Rahim.
Smiling, but without a word, he sat Dad down and pulled out the electric shears.
"Not too short," I said.
Again, not a word, but a smile that reassured so much, I turned to the newspaper, content my father's head would not be shorn within millimeters of his scalp.
I was, however, utterly mistaken.
Not five minutes later, a glance revealed he resembled a new military recruit. I gasped, tipping Dad, not wearing his glasses and thus blissfully unaware his mane had been savagely mowed, that something was indeed off.
"What's wrong?," he asked.
Also blissfully unaware was Rahim, who beamed as he turned Dad towards me.
"See! Short!"
"I said not too short," came my plaintive wail.
"Yes, short!"
And there the penny dropped. Unequivocally, Rahim could cut hair. What he couldn't do was understand how much of my father's hair I wanted him to cut because he lacked the required English skills.
We cut our losses, so to speak, Dad admonishing me about taking coiffures too seriously (apparently working in television is not an acceptable defence) en route to the next task, a little grocery shopping at the farmers market nearby.
Once again we found ourselves undone by a language barrier, a lack of English that made inquiring about the origins and price of some unknown squash impossible. The item was left on the shelf.
Two incidents, less than an hour apart, where the course of commerce was stymied by the inability to communicate.
The timing couldn't have been more ironic -- coming days after the provincial government's announcement it will spend millions more on access to English language training for immigrants.
The Campbell Liberals are pledging $23 million to reduce waiting lists for adult ESL courses. It's good news, but it doesn't go far enough.
In a country where the Charter protects minority linguistic rights, where we celebrate multiculturalism (the same announcement also included $1.5 million for anti-racism and multiculturalism services), it might feel counterintuitive to insist that our newcomers be able to speak either official language effectively enough to function in front line jobs in the greater community.
We were collectively outraged when, about five years ago, Quebec's so-called language police launched a nasty crackdown on allophone shopkeepers who weren't serving customers in French.
The incidents drew our ire for their mean-spirited nature; threatening corner store owners who had done decent trade without French for 25 years with heavy fines, and orders to learn the language in a far shorter timeframe.
But though its implementation made for unnecessary heartache, the concept itself wasn't entirely bad.
Consumers in an officially English- and French-speaking country ought to expect to be able to be well served in one of those two languages.
I delight in the fact that stores and banks now post signs proudly displaying their staff's multilingual abilities for those who may be more comfortable conversing in their language of origin.
But it's also critical that those people be able to speak the language their kids are learning at school, the language their government documents are printed in, the language they will doubtless be taking their oath of citizenship in once the required three years in this country are up.
We know language training necessarily takes a back seat to our desperation for skilled immigrants. British Columbia alone is expected to need as many as 400,000 over the next 12 years.
It's also a lesser priority for some employers who, equally desperate to retain good workers in a transient job market, look the other way on the language issue.
It's admirable that the province, helped by federal transfer funds, covers the cost of English-language services for adults. But the program provides only basic level language skills. Advanced English training should also be free to every permanent resident.
Expensive? Perhaps. But here, in what Victoria tells us is the most popular province for newcomers, a worthwhile investment.
Think of the rate of return for businesses that lose customers because of the language gap.
Think of the added opportunities for immigrants themselves, who, having attained a better level of proficiency, are all the better situated to compete for better, higher paying jobs.
Finally, think of what it might prevent: The fragmenting of our society into linguistic ghettos.
And because people don't always avail themselves of the benefits they are provided, let's make it mandatory.
Ottawa's already conducting a sweeping review of our immigration policies. Why not make proficiency in either official language a condition of citizenship?
After all, if the federal government is prepared to pay senior civil servants, some just years from retirement, to become fluently bilingual, is it too much to insist our new citizens speak, read and write enough of one of those languages such that they may fully exercise their freshly acquired rights as Canadians?
Sadly, as much as I believe in such a course, I'm also realistic enough to know that no party or politician in a minority Parliament would ever have the backbone to infuriate the newly minted voting bloc they've wooed so ardently in recent elections.
So, what to do? Good humour helps. But I don't think Dad will be visiting Rahim for any more clear-cuts.
Shachi Kurl is a reporter/anchor with A-Channel News with Hudson Mack in Victoria.