Clients and witnesses who speak a language other than English present some interesting challenges. I thought about this after reading Underdog’s post “He understood English just fine the night I arrested him,” dealing with the refusal of courts to provide interpreters to defendants who claim that they lack a sufficient understanding of English to function in a courtroom or assist in their own defense. A very real problem.
Years ago, I did a suppression hearing in the United States District Court for the Southern District of New York before a judge who had come from an old line white shoe law firm. It involved a Fukanese defendant (that means Chinese from the Fukan province) who was accused of selling (as he informed me) No. 4 heroin. I still have no clue what makes heroin “No. 4”, but no reason to doubt his info.
The defendant didn’t speak a word of English, and the DEA agents had him Mirdandized by an interpreter in Mandarin, a different Chinese dialect. After testimony from the government, then my multi-dialect interpreter who testified that numerous words had completely different meanings, the judge asked my interpreter to say aloud the Miranda warnings in both Mandarin and then Fukanese. After he did so, the judge proclaimed, “It sounds the same to me. Denied.”
Even people for whom English is their first language have difficulty understanding the language of the courtroom. We use words differently than the outside world, and they often have very specific meanings. It does matter that clients understand what exactly our language means. Their lives depend upon it.
But non-English speaking people present some curious challenges. For one thing, many believe they understand English much, much better than they do. It becomes a battle to convince them that their English is not as good as they think, and that they aren’t getting the meaning they need to comprehend what’s happening.
To make matters worse, some are not well educated, and have some difficulty understanding conceptual statements. They do much better with the concrete, but coming up with examples that match their experiences is similarly difficult. And testing whether we are all on the same page brings the problem full circle, when they don’t understand the language, the point, the example and will adamantly tell you that they understand everything perfectly. Bear in mind, I’m talking about my own clients and family. I want them to understand, so there’s no benefit to letting them have their own way.
But language difficulties have their upside too. In putting a Spanish speaking witness on the stand, prosecutors invariably make one mistake. When the witness testifies about interactions with another person, the prosecutor will invariably ask “Who is he?” The interpreter will translate this question into the literal “quien es?” This is where the fun starts.
The question “Quien es” in Spanish calls for a response of the relationship between the person and the witness. So the proper answer will be something along the lines of “my friend,” “my brother,” whatever. Of course, the prosecutor is really asking for the identity of the as yet unnamed other person. So he asks the question again, this time more strenuously. Same interpretation. Same answer. This time, the witness is a bit firmer as well, as if the prosecutor is a bit dense.
By now, the prosecutor is getting miffed. Here’s the witness treating him like an blithering idiot, and he’s not about to put up with that. So the question gets asked one more time, but now with sarcasm dripping from his voice, and overtone of anger and a hint that the witness’ failure to give the right answer will result in the collapse of western society.
This is where the defense attorney (that would be me), who has been sitting back in his chair, in a semi-reclining position, with a bemused look on his face, chimes in. “Er, pardon me for interrupting, Your Honor, but perhaps Mr. Jones [the pros] would have an easier time if he just asked the witness, “What is his name?”
The interpreter now says “Como se llama,” the witness readily answers the question, providing the name, and the jurors are all laughing at the prosecutor who is obviously too raw or stupid to figure out how to ask a simple question, demonstrating how he jumps to wrong conclusions because of his ignorance and blames it on others.
I’ve done this shtick at least a dozen times, and it never fails to amuse the jury (and the judge!). The point is that we have enough on our hands working with non-English speaking clients and witnesses and trying to help them to understand our system and its language. At least we should be able to have a little fun with it from time to time.
Years ago, I did a suppression hearing in the United States District Court for the Southern District of New York before a judge who had come from an old line white shoe law firm. It involved a Fukanese defendant (that means Chinese from the Fukan province) who was accused of selling (as he informed me) No. 4 heroin. I still have no clue what makes heroin “No. 4”, but no reason to doubt his info.
The defendant didn’t speak a word of English, and the DEA agents had him Mirdandized by an interpreter in Mandarin, a different Chinese dialect. After testimony from the government, then my multi-dialect interpreter who testified that numerous words had completely different meanings, the judge asked my interpreter to say aloud the Miranda warnings in both Mandarin and then Fukanese. After he did so, the judge proclaimed, “It sounds the same to me. Denied.”
Even people for whom English is their first language have difficulty understanding the language of the courtroom. We use words differently than the outside world, and they often have very specific meanings. It does matter that clients understand what exactly our language means. Their lives depend upon it.
But non-English speaking people present some curious challenges. For one thing, many believe they understand English much, much better than they do. It becomes a battle to convince them that their English is not as good as they think, and that they aren’t getting the meaning they need to comprehend what’s happening.
To make matters worse, some are not well educated, and have some difficulty understanding conceptual statements. They do much better with the concrete, but coming up with examples that match their experiences is similarly difficult. And testing whether we are all on the same page brings the problem full circle, when they don’t understand the language, the point, the example and will adamantly tell you that they understand everything perfectly. Bear in mind, I’m talking about my own clients and family. I want them to understand, so there’s no benefit to letting them have their own way.
But language difficulties have their upside too. In putting a Spanish speaking witness on the stand, prosecutors invariably make one mistake. When the witness testifies about interactions with another person, the prosecutor will invariably ask “Who is he?” The interpreter will translate this question into the literal “quien es?” This is where the fun starts.
The question “Quien es” in Spanish calls for a response of the relationship between the person and the witness. So the proper answer will be something along the lines of “my friend,” “my brother,” whatever. Of course, the prosecutor is really asking for the identity of the as yet unnamed other person. So he asks the question again, this time more strenuously. Same interpretation. Same answer. This time, the witness is a bit firmer as well, as if the prosecutor is a bit dense.
By now, the prosecutor is getting miffed. Here’s the witness treating him like an blithering idiot, and he’s not about to put up with that. So the question gets asked one more time, but now with sarcasm dripping from his voice, and overtone of anger and a hint that the witness’ failure to give the right answer will result in the collapse of western society.
This is where the defense attorney (that would be me), who has been sitting back in his chair, in a semi-reclining position, with a bemused look on his face, chimes in. “Er, pardon me for interrupting, Your Honor, but perhaps Mr. Jones [the pros] would have an easier time if he just asked the witness, “What is his name?”
The interpreter now says “Como se llama,” the witness readily answers the question, providing the name, and the jurors are all laughing at the prosecutor who is obviously too raw or stupid to figure out how to ask a simple question, demonstrating how he jumps to wrong conclusions because of his ignorance and blames it on others.
I’ve done this shtick at least a dozen times, and it never fails to amuse the jury (and the judge!). The point is that we have enough on our hands working with non-English speaking clients and witnesses and trying to help them to understand our system and its language. At least we should be able to have a little fun with it from time to time.
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This is a very real problem, but the reluctance of the State to provide appropriate interpreters is indicative of a general attitude.
This problem made national headlines last month:
Three”>http://apublicdefender.com/2007/07/23/three-years-speedy-enough/>Three years speedy enough?
Fortunately, in New York City courts, both state and SDNY, we have such a large non-English speaking population that getting the courts to provide interpreters (and the availability of interpreters in some fairly rare languages) is not a problem. In this regard, we’re fairly fortunate.
In other venues, it can be a huge, if not insurmountable, problem. And the English speaking world’s reluctance to appreciate the need for a non-English speaking defendant to truly understand what’s happening and be capable of contributing is just good ol’ American jingoism. Like so many other problems, they only appreciate it when it’s their butt on the line. Everyone else is just a drag on their tax dollars.
SHG