English is not my native language. I wasn’t raised bilingual, didn’t attend an international school. In fact, I was already 17 when I won a scholarship to the UK and began the English half of my life.
Yet I’m more fluent in English than in my native Thai. Partly due to lack of use—I speak Thai only with my family and a handful of friends—but the real reason I’m more comfortable in English is that, early on, I decided to adopt it as the language to express myself with.
One morning while getting ready for school, somewhere between fourth and sixth grades, I suddenly realised I’d been thinking and dreaming in English. What brought this on—the books I devoured, the movies I watched, the songs I knew by heart—I hadn’t a clue. But English felt right. So I doubled down, acing one English test after another while my Thai grades dipped dangerously close to GPA 3.00 territory.
The more I practised English, the better I became. Fast forward three decades, English has paid me back in spades, lavishing me with opportunities I could never have dreamt of during those long hours memorising the never-ending vocabulary and every intricacy of grammar.
There are many reasons I love English, not least of which is the wonderful community I’ve built through this newsletter. But if I’m to name the reason dearest to me, it’s that English is the great equaliser.
The great equaliser
“You” and “I” are my two favourite words in the English language. For the simple reason that they enable me to relate to another human as an equal.
There is no need to decide, upon first meeting, the age or seniority or respectability of the person in front of me. They are just “you,” as I am just “I.”
This is not the case with my native Thai (and interestingly, Vietnamese). In Thai, there is no neutral “you” that can be used with strangers. Every time you wish to address someone you first meet, you need to choose for them a pronoun that places them in a social hierarchy, either above or below you.
There is no neutral “I” that you can use to refer to yourself either. You have to resort to your name—Val is happy to meet you—which few do, or denote yourself as senior or junior to the person you’re speaking to.
Visitors to Thailand (and Vietnam) might find this linguistic social hierarchy quaint, even desirable. But as someone who grew up here, I find it incredibly insidious—an all-powerful tool to perpetuate a value system that’s badly broken. It’s brainwashing that goes unnoticed yet corrupts everyone, everywhere, all the damn time.
When you are taught growing up to always address an older, higher status person with the respectful “you,” it teaches you to associate age and seniority with respectability. When you call yourself “senior” when addressing a younger person, you’re telling yourself “I am older and therefore wiser” while at the same time putting down the “young one” in front of you.
Just because someone has grey hair does not make them worthy of respect—they could be the most dishonest, cruel person you’ll ever meet. And just because you’re a couple of years older than someone doesn’t mean they’re less deserving of respect than you are.
In English, everyone is equal. I call my partner, my boss, my friends, the cashier at the convenience store “you.” And I don’t have to be senior or junior to anyone I meet, I am just “I.”
The English “you” and “I” do not presuppose age, seniority, or respectability. Every person you interact with, you get to decide, over time, whether they’re worthy of respect. You’re never forced into arbitrarily putting yourself, or someone else, in their place.
This linguistic quality liberates us to form a culture where everyone is judged based on what they do, not who they are. Everyone gets to prove their worth, no matter how young or old, junior or senior, rich or poor.
In English, everyone is equal. And respect is earned. As it should be.
What do you think?
This is a good time for me to thank you all for reading my words. I appreciate every single one of you.
Do you also favour English as the great equaliser, or would you prefer the embedded social hierarchy of Thai/Vietnamese?
I’m curious to hear your thoughts, especially if you disagree. Please hit “reply” or leave a comment—I read every response and I’d love to hear from you. If you want, share this post with someone whose native language isn’t English so they can tell you one curious thing about their native tongue.
Until next Friday… Stay thoughtful,
Val
Photo by Pawel Czerwinski on Unsplash
This is a beautiful expression and reflection of imbibing, inhabiting, two different languages! I love learning languages and the beauty that they hold. I feel the same way about French - I started learning it in middle school and only now am I appreciating it fully; living and working in France💕
Turkish goes one step farther and as well as only one you or I, has one word for he and she. Really interesting language grammatically, one of my favourites.