Calavan Youluvu Realevead Thilivis?

You probably can. I have no idea what it is called, but when I was a small kid, the adults in my family would use this language when they were trying to keep their conversations private from kids or strangers. I probably didn’t understand it from the get-go, but I think I managed pretty fast. When they noticed that I understood every word they were saying, they switched to a language that involved a lot of W’s instead of L’s.

Sowowort lawawiike thiwiwis. Again, I cracked the code.

Exclusion by Language

But, the fact remains that they tried to exclude me from conversations (which were, rightfully so, none of my business). Exclusion. That’s what it boiled down to. Language can exclude and keep information from us. Not just the information that is not ours to have, but vital information that’s important for our safety, well-being, and our ability to claim our rights as human beings.

A Citizen of the World

I am a US expat living in the Czech Republic (more about that experience in a later post). As is so often the case for many people living abroad, love brought me here. And I am raising my third child, who happens to be a citizen of the world by birthright. She holds three nationalities and speaks two very different languages fluently. She’s dipped into many more and has her favourite phrases in several languages. She attended her first translators conference in Germany when she was 12 days old. Since then, she’s accompanied me to give talks at or attend conferences in Sweden, Italy, and the Netherlands, and she’s travelled most of Europe and parts of the US. She’s lived in Germany, France, and now Czechia and she has friends as far away as Canada and Cape Cod.

Privilege and Multilingualism

All this to say, she is the poster child for the children we at OLI want to support in a multilingual world. Bilingual by (divine?) design, exposed to a world that she gets to wander about almost effortlessly. Though she is privileged. Very much so. At nearly 9 years old, she knows how to use translation apps and dictionaries, and what’s more important, she has access to them, at the tip of her fingers.

Beyond that, she’s safe. Fed. Clothed. Unbothered by the atrocities that are happening around the world. She doesn’t know the sound of bombs, people screaming in horror and pain, or the painful emptiness of a stomach that’s not been fed. But other children do. And our volunteers are helping them by making information available to them and their parents and caretakers. And they are helping in many other areas as well.

My Calling: Joining OLI

Having worked with refugee organisations in Germany years ago, and being a translator by profession myself, joining OLI was a no-brainer. Being a survivor of childhood sexual abuse and coping with CPTSD for all of my adult life, privileged by the sheer coincidence of living in a place where I was able to heal to a point that allowed me to embrace life, it is my calling to help others as best as I can, with the tools available to me — and even more so with those I can (help) create: OLI.

A Call to Action

I look forward to contributing to all the good and necessary projects that OLI is tackling as you read these lines. It would make my day if you took a minute out of yours to find out how you can help, too. Because we cannot fulfil our mission alone. We’re a pretty brilliant bunch, if I may say so (that’s my ode to our incredible team), but we’re only human. You can join as a volunteer, donate, sign up for our Associate Network OLI.AN, or become a voice for OLI.

Join us in our mission to make a difference in this world through multilingualism, offering crucial help to other non-profits, and support us in our research and development. Don’t do it for us. Do it for the children. For vulnerable people. For the non-conforming, the hopeless, the beaten, the starved, the seekers, and do it for our planet.

Thank you, from the bottom of my bilingual heart.