Shahna Shajnin
Professor Colombo Russell
ENG 110: Freshman Composition
September 15, 2025

 Bangla Barriers

The dewy air envelops my senses as I stand at the low table positioned in the middle of the park. It’s mid-afternoon, and the sun’s rays are just out of sight, shielded by an array of clouds. As a summer camp volunteer at the Hillside Kid’s Club, which serves Muslim immigrant families in Queens, I typically take on my role as a counselor for the children, leading them in various activities. Though it was tiring, I enjoyed the sight of kids running around, popsicle sticks in the grass, and construction paper blowing in the wind. However, a new role had just been entrusted to me. “Since you speak Bangla, I have put you at the clerical station, in case any translation is needed,” my director explains. My heart sinks. Although Bangla is considered my native language, it tangles on my tongue. Words tend to come out haphazardly and lacking proper enunciation. When I speak, my sentences falter as shame burns my ears. 

Families rush into the park as the afternoon’s heat continues. I jump into action, taking on my role diligently and politely. “Next!” I shout. An older woman cloaked in a navy blue hijab, and a little girl in a sundress stands in front of me, her small hand latched to the woman’s. As my co-worker sets up the activities behind me, the young girl’s eyes light up with joy. “Ready to play?” I ask the girl. She grins widely at my question. I watch as the woman lowers her gaze, the corner of her mouth upturned slightly. I begin to speak: “Please fill out the forms. Your daughter can start playing after we get some basic information.”

The woman looks back at me for the first time. Only the chirps of nature can be detected as a stretch of silence ensues. She opens her mouth, purses her lips in thought, and closes them. She lowers her head in what appears to be embarrassment. The lump in my throat stings as realization hits me. In the primarily Bangladeshi community, most families learned basic English phrases to accompany their dominant Bangla. However, not all had the chance to take English classes in the small community. This woman can’t speak English.

The woman takes her daughter’s hand. Slowly, her voice reaches me: “Her…play…park?” 

I feel the branches around me sway in the wind, almost in mockery. Fluency in Bangla should be my strength. Yet I stand behind the table in fear, as my skills are being put to the test. The woman looks at her daughter in defeat. Her eyes scan the perimeter of the park in hopes that a familiar face would look back at her to no avail. I think hard. I think about the Bangla phrases I can potentially string together into a sentence. Finally, I speak again. “Apni Bangla kotha bolen?” I managed to muster. “Do you speak Bangla?”

In an instant, color returns to her face. Her eyes well up, brimming with emotion as I speak. My once foreign tune fills her ear with song, and she nods vigorously. As she responds back in Bangla, I quickly string together the next set of phrases to convey. Relief floods my body. She understands me. The little girl quickly runs into the park, ready to begin the ongoing painting activity. With every incoming parent who arrives, my confidence flourishes as I learn to adapt to the circumstances. Although some parents are confused as my unusual accent intrudes upon their beautiful mother tongue, I feel empowered, rather than hindered by my broken Bangla. 

To this day, I still stumble over my Bangla dialect. I still take long pauses as gears work in my mind to sort the next logical statement. However, I have learned not to be self-conscious about my lack of fluency. Rather, I use my language skills to connect with others, as not everybody has the privilege of learning English first-hand.

Recently, I met an international Bangladeshi-student, who struggled to understand the professor’s jargon during lectures. She quickly found solace in me when I broke down the content in Bangla. My fragmented sentences, full of grammatical errors, brought stars to her eyes. By continuing to bridge such language barriers, I have learned that if only we open our mouths, we can make an effort to help others. I like to think that those who try will reap the rewards.