Not Lost in Translation

Today was student-led conference day at our middle school, and so I spent the day facilitating conversations between sixth graders and their parents concerning grades, study skills, and school involvement. For the most part, I love this model-- it empowers and engages students to consider their learning and begin to take responsibility for it. 

In theory, I am present only to clarify, answer questions, and offer a teacher's perspective on what the students report, but in practice, I must also call the language line when a parent needs an interpreter, and that's where the model gets a little clunky. The person on the other end of the line can't see the slide deck that the students have prepared to guide their presentation, and sometimes they can't hear the students either, especially if the kid is soft-spoken. Together we have to chunk the conversation so that they can keep the parent caught up with what we are saying.

Even so, most of the interpreters I have worked with have done the job with patience and grace, and it's worth a little awkwardness to be able to get someone on the phone whenever we need it. And today, I had a very human moment with one of the folks on the line. A student was explaining to his dad why he sometimes struggles to work successfully in groups. 

"People are always talking to me," he said, and sat back as if that cleared it all up.

I raised my eyebrows. "They're just talking to you?" I pushed back. "While you sit there silently?"

Perhaps it was my tone of voice, but the interpreter snorted and laughed before she translated my question. Then she apologized. No worries, though. She couldn't see it, but the kid and his dad were laughing, too.