Press 1 for English

I've lost track of the number of emails that have come through my inbox complaining about "Press 1 for English, press 2 for Spanish..." As the voice for some of those "press Spanish" commands, I keep a stiff upper lip and try not to take it personally.

Alright, I've never even been tempted to take it personally. But the complaints do make me wonder sometimes. The degree of anxiety expressed is unmistakable.

Under our commercial system, it makes sense for businesses to invest time and money in attracting the broadest range of clientele. That includes clientele who might be more comfortable in another language. I doubt those who complain are really suggesting that we limit free enterprise.

Our government applies to many people whose native tongue is not English, but who have every legal right to be in this country: people like the Navajo (who got here long before most of us) or residents of Puerto Rico, or new citizens who may speak enough English to pass a test but not enough to understand the latest new, improved and simplified instructions from the IRS. Surely, no one upset over "press 1 for English" really wants to limit access to our government.

So, what then? Could it be that the anger behind the negative emails is something else entirely? Something to do with language and its connection to identity. Something that's less about immigration and more about a sense of acceptance or rejection?

As a kid growing up in South America, I knew a large number of expatriates from different walks of life. This was sometimes embarrassing. There were foreigners (including Americans), who lived among Spanish-speakers for years - and could do little more than buy their groceries in Spanish. To my local friends, it was cause for a philosophical shrug of the shoulders. Linked to these people by our common status as foreigners, I was outraged by their perceived rejection of my second country.

And then I moved to the United States.

To my surprise, nothing really changed. Nothing except that English was now the language not learned. And the offenders were not educated, or wealthy or well-traveled individuals. They were often uneducated immigrants from Third World countries around the globe.

Something changed in me, too. Linked to these immigrants by our common status as "people who grew up elsewhere," I responded with a level of sympathy that was lacking before.

By nature, I am analytical. Lacking something (or someone) else to analyze, I'm perfectly happy to dissect my own behavior. So, I did. Why the sympathy for non-English speakers in my first country, and irritation with non-Spanish speakers in my second country?

Perhaps it was because here in the USA, the response was indignation rather than a philosophical shrug. It was outrage at a perceived rejection.

Maybe it was because, unlike the foreigners in my second country, so many of the immigrants to the USA had left their home countries in order to survive, or see their children have a little better life.

Or maybe it was because the immigrants I saw here seemed to be so afraid of losing themselves in the process.

Just as, perhaps, those who came to live in my second country also feared losing themselves.

And maybe, perhaps, some of the people writing angry "English-only" emails are afraid of losing what is familiar to them as the world shifts to allow more languages on the telephone.

Despite now being filled with retroactive and apologetic sympathy toward those who mortified me as a youth, I still think that resenting a business for trying to expand its customer appeal is a waste of energy and email bandwidth. After all, if you were a business owner, and your market share would grow if you offered "press 3 for Pig Latin", ouldn'tway ouyay aye-tray itay?