Linguistic insecurity is a common occurrence for people who choose to, or need to, express themselves in a language other than their mother tongue.
The recent modernization of the Official Languages Act in 2023 sparked much debate about linguistic insecurity in official language minority communities and about the importance of maintaining strong institutions within these communities. The debate surrounding the passing of the bill also reinforced bilingualism obligations for public servants, given the importance and impact of the policies and services the federal government implemented for all Canadians.
Also of importance was the passing of the Indigenous Languages Act in 2019. The Act recognizes that “a history of discriminatory government policies and practices, in respect of, among other things, assimilation, forced relocation, the Sixties Scoop and residential schools, [was] detrimental to Indigenous languages and contributed significantly to the erosion of those languages.”Note 1 Although over 70 Indigenous languages are spoken in Canada, the linguistic insecurity of Indigenous Peoples is tangible, as all of these languages are now at risk.Note 2
There are many studies on linguistic insecurity. My blog post also discusses this topic but focusses specifically on linguistic insecurity in the context of the public service.
Like many public servants, I joined the public service with a very limited knowledge of my second official language, which in my case was English. I immediately accepted a position in an English-speaking region, thinking that immersion would be the best way to learn the language. The first thing I learned is that linguistic insecurity doesn’t stem from how others see us, but rather from how we see ourselves.
It’s not easy to go to work every day and choose to deny ourselves the ease we feel when expressing ourselves in our mother tongue or the ability to write clearly and concisely in the language we’ve known since childhood. Nor is it easy to voluntarily deprive ourselves of certain interpersonal skills. Who would willingly give up these strengths when the goal is to succeed in the workplace? Most of us will always mourn these losses, as we’re unlikely to achieve the same level of fluency in both official languages over the course of our careers. We need to accept that linguistic insecurity is part of our lives and choose to make it our ally.
Linguistic insecurity can in fact be a great friend; without it, the world loses so much of its richness. Without linguistic insecurity, we’d no longer be able to speak to the 98% of Canadians who are able to express themselves in one of our two official languages.Note 3 We’d lose the opportunity to make an important point in a meeting, because the documents or the conversation are in the other official language. We’d miss out on certain job opportunities, whether in Vancouver or Montréal. We’d close the door on a part of our Canadian culture: people would ask, “Who’s Michel Tremblay?” or “Who’s Gord Downie?”
The one thing we can’t do is wait for our French or English to improve enough for us to overcome our linguistic insecurity. Making mistakes in an email (that’s life!), forgetting to pronounce the s at the end of a third-person singular verb in English (it happens!) or saying une cheval or un route—these things don’t stop us from making progress. We can always ask our colleagues to reread our documents, and we can also reread their documents for them.
I first experienced linguistic insecurity at the beginning of my career in the public service, and it has stayed with me ever since. Sometimes I can feel it laughing at my French accent or criticizing me when I speak too softly in a meeting because I feel intimidated. But it also prevents me from taking myself too seriously. More importantly, despite my linguistic insecurity, communicating in my second language has allowed me to meet some extraordinary colleagues and exceptional Canadians.
Yes, I’ve made a brilliant friend, indeed.
