The need for English

Walking the streets of Aston is a strange experience. The houses are unmistakenly English, in fact Victorian, a reminder of the Industrial Revolution which started in England in the nineteenth century. But the Englishness of Aston stops there, for most of the people are aliens. They walk around in clothes which are distinctly Asian and they talk in languages native to Pakistan and Bangladesh. The English language is in fact marginalised.


This would not be a bad thing, if the command of English was there and the other languages are only used for the sake of familiarity, a sign of closeness and intimacy. But this is often not the case, at least not for the older generation. They speak English poorly, if at all, and it is not uncommon to see young children act as interpreters to their parents in health clinics or other government institutions. I experienced this myself one time, when an elderly man wanted to see our house, as he was interested in a similar house a few doors away. It was his little boy who did all the talking.

I can imagine that it is embarrassing for a grown-up to rely on children in order to make contact with wider society. Likewise it is embarrassing for a parent not to be able to help one's children with their homework and feeling outclassed by even their little ones. It seems that experiences like these are the strongest motivations for wanting to learn English. They go right back to the family situation and the family is at the centre of the Asian cultures.

The three of us believe that responding to the need for English is a great service to the community, perhaps the greatest service we can offer. The time for looking around and trying to understand the neighbourhood and its dynamics is over, it is now time to make decisions about how to insert ourselves into concrete action. Helping with English seems the right choice. The need for English is there, not just from the point of view of integration and cohesion, but as a felt need of the people themselves.