At the Airport Lounge

Liz stood impatiently in front of the large screens outlining the departures and arrivals for the afternoon's travels. Her eyes fixed on departing flights, as the airline had yet to post her gate. She anxiously waited, her bag hanging heavily on her right shoulder, and her suitcase on the floor in front of her. The crowd around her got larger, she could hear a young child behind her crying to her mother for another piece of candy, but her gaze stayed fixed on the bright blue departure screen. After what felt like hours of waiting, the dreaded word "DELAYED" appeared next to her flight in big, bold, red letters.

Liz mumbled under her breath, "Another delay.great.."

She grabbed her suitcase and begrudgingly decided to have a drink to get her through what was now a six-hour layover. Liz was very familiar with the Los Angeles International Airport (LAX). She made her way to her favorite lounge and took a seat at a small round table near the bar. She ordered a dirty martini and logged in to the WiFi to check her e-mail. She looked up to get the bartender's attention for a snack menu and noticed a man enter the lounge, seeming frustrated. He let his briefcase fall to the floor as he whipped off his jacket, folded it, and placed it neatly on a barstool. He took a seat at the bar and flipped through the menu. Liz was unable to get the bartender's attention as he made his way to attend to his new customer.

"What can I get for you, sir?" said the bartender to the man.

"I would like an am-buh-gah medium rare with cheese and a glass of waw-ta with gas please," said the man slowly in a strong French accent.

The bartender looked at the man and asked, "Can you say that again, buddy?"

The man repeated his order, but the bartender still looked perplexed as he tried to understand what exactly he needed to write down on his order pad. The man began getting more and more frustrated as he continually repeated himself. At this point he must have ordered eight or nine hamburgers and mineral waters! Liz overheard their struggle and offered her help.

"I think he would like a cheeseburger and a glass of water. If you have sparkling water that would be great," she said from her table and added, "and can I get the snack menu, please?"

Both of them looked in her direction. The look of confusion eased from the bartender's face as he breathed a sigh of relief and put the order in. The man looked over at Liz, still visibly frustrated, but offered up a friendly "Thanks."

"You're very welcome," Liz said. "I have the same problem where I live."

"Oh, really? Where are you from?"

"I am originally from New Jersey, but I was relocated to Brazil four months ago for work. I probably wouldn't have interrupted you when you were ordering, but when I'm in Brazil speaking English some people can't seem to understand my New Jersey accent. When I heard you ordering, it really hit home for me. I know how it feels."

The man's mouth widened into a smile. "That's pretty funny, because you speak great English, and it's your native language but people still can't understand your accent? I don't believe-"

"Even when I'm traveling throughout the United States people always say, 'You must be from New Joisey,'" Liz interrupted as she exaggerated her words to create the classic New Jersey accent. "Where are you from?" she asked the man.

"I am from France but I work for a Swedish manufacturing company in the UK."

Liz smiled. "I'm Liz, by the way," she said as she stuck her hand straight out for him to shake.

"I'm Pierre," he said as he stretched across an empty seat to meet her hand.

"So what brings you to the United States?" Liz questioned.

"I was doing a site visit for my company in Houston, and then I had a quick meeting in LA. Now I'm going back to headquarters in Stockholm. You know, with my heavy French accent people don't understand me easily. In business it's not too bad, but when I try to order things, like today, sometimes it is pretty difficult. It seems like a lot of people find me hard to understand."

Liz nodded her head in understanding. "What happens with me feels even more challenging because it's my native language, and I feel like an outsider when I'm speaking English in Brazil. I can really empathize with your situation."

Pierre's eyes widened and he shook his head in disbelief. He looked at Liz. "Unreal-you sound so clear. But truthfully, when I speak English with non-native English speakers-I mean, when I'm with my colleagues from Sweden, and Mexico, and Dubai-we don't have problems to work with and understand each other. In my mind, the major issue is when we work with native English speakers-our American, English, or even Australian colleagues. I feel that there is a bigger disconnect there. It should be a two-way street, but they make it seem like it is our problem.as if only the non-native English speakers have the problem. The truth is we have a hard time understanding them, too; it's not only them having a hard time understanding us."

"Tell me more about that-what do you mean?" Liz asked him, trying to better understand his experience. As a native English speaker, Liz was interested in this new perspective.

"English is their first language and it seems like they don't realize that we all speak broken English. Sometimes it feels like they don't make the effort to try to work with us to-how do you Americans say?-'level the playing field.' They will speak really very fast and use a lot of expressions that we don't totally understand. It makes me really frustrated and angry sometimes." Pierre looked down at his hands as if a bit embarrassed that he had just expressed his frustrations to one of "them"-a native English speaker.

Liz sensed his hesitation. "I don't think you speak broken English. I am listening to you speaking very clearly and easily right now. Where did you get the impression that your English is broken?"

Pierre looked up at Liz and sensed her genuine interest. "Well, I guess it is because of my accent, and I get really nervous and I always feel so stressed. I am an executive expected to make presentations all of the time in English. I usually have to prepare a lot. I spend hours and hours preparing slides to make sure the English is right. I always practice with my wife, and it's a lot of work. Even after all that work it often feels that people don't understand what I am trying to say. I want people to see me as an innovator and a top contributor, but I'm not sure they do. On the team there are so many native speakers of English, and they seem to present with such ease. My boss-a native English speaker of course-has given me feedback that I need to improve, but I feel that his feedback is just holding me back. I feel very judged by my boss whenever I make presentations. When I present at trade shows, or when I'm invited to speak about our company, some people will come and tell me that I have such a great accent, but frankly I'd like for them to come and comment on what I have just said, instead of how I sounded saying it." Pierre laughed suddenly. "Ahh, I am so sorry to bore you with such details."

Liz laughed along with Pierre. "Well, your boss should go to Brazil and try his English there. I used to give feedback to my non-native speakers of English just like your boss gives you. But now, I actually feel more like you," Liz said with a huge smile on her face. She laughed again. "I too am an executive, and we are in the same boat. Just a few weeks ago I gave a presentation. Even though the official language of the company is English, I'm not sure the audience understood me. I was just seeing a sea of empty faces. I felt a little shattered! I am surrounded by Portuguese speakers who are working in English with me, but I am clearly at a major disadvantage."

Pierre looked at her thoughtfully. "Thank you for sharing that, because I do not hear that too often. I often feel that we-the non-native speakers of English-do all the hard work. We take accent reduction courses and conversation classes, all after long days at work." He laughed again. "What I would dream of is for native English speakers to develop some skills to be more comfortable with different cultures and accents. I'm okay to work hard, but they could meet us halfway. I want you to be at ease in Brazil, but I must confess how wonderful it is to hear a native speaker struggling in English!"

Pierre and Liz both burst out laughing. Pierre continued, "I see this problem in many companies in Asia. They spend hours and hours on accent reduction and work on their pitch-all of those painful things. I have a friend in Japan who's a genius-he really is-but a lot of Americans are having a hard time understanding him. He's totally brilliant and should be a part of the executive team. I think he has equal skills or...