The Joy of Public Service Interpreting
Photo Credit: Lalo Alcaraz
Let’s face it: public service interpreting gets a bad rep! Whether it’s local newspapers complaining about it being a burden on public resources, or it’s people from the industry who see it as less prestigious or rewarding than other types of interpreting, PSI tends to be overlooked. Today, I do not want to focus on the negative aspects associated with PSI, but I would like to talk about why it is gratifying and challenging at the same time.
I started out working as a public service interpreter over two years ago, and I know first-hand what challenges this type of interpreting poses, and why it should be given the attention it deserves.
Unfortunately, the PSI market is dominated by bottom-feeding agencies, who pay peanuts and who accept unqualified interpreters (“native speakers”). And, of course, PSI won’t make you a millionaire. However, I feel that working as a public service interpreter is inherently rewarding, useful to society, and humanitarian. Moreover, we need to make society understand that we are not simply interpreting for the patients, pupils, defendants: we are also interpreting for the doctors, teachers and judges who would not be able to do their jobs without our precious help.
Firstly, PSI takes us to the basics of interpreting: it truly highlights the importance of enabling people to communicate, and the invaluable assistance we provide can save lives, or in the least extreme cases, at the very least allow people to have access to essential services such as the NHS. I’ll grant you that at times it might be repetitive. If you’ve been to two or three antenatal scans, you almost remember the checklist and questions the midwife asks by heart! And GP appointments are rarely challenging, since they are usually for mild ailments such as the flu, or aches and pains. Nonetheless, helping a person communicate with a specialist consultant and receive guidance on how to cope with blindness or how to raise a hearing-impaired child is of great value.
Secondly, different PSI settings pose different challenges, so it never gets dull. Providing our professional services for the NHS can be less “formal”, due to the tendency of doctors and nurses to create a rapport with their patients, and their general approachable nature. However, a school appeal committee, for instance, has its own set of rules and it can be more challenging as it involves members of the committee reading written official statements, and giving all present parties allocated speaking slots. Interpreting in a pupil referral unit can be extremely tense, while mental health can be extremely challenging from a terminological point of view.
Finally, PSI can be demanding from a psychological point of view. One day you might be required to interpret for a pregnant patient who gets to see the first scan of her unborn baby, but the next day you might end up telling someone they have terminal liver cancer, or having to interpret for someone with Alzheimer’s. Due to stringent confidentiality rules, interpreters cannot divulge sensitive information, so at times we find ourselves carrying the burden of other people’s misfortunes, without ever being able to vent, or ever finding out what happened to the people we interpreted for. As one of my lecturers from the University of Leeds drilled into us during our courses, we have a responsibility to think of ourselves and our vital role in PSI, and seek professional guidance and therapy if we feel like we cannot cope with the sensitive cases we deal with on a day-to-day basis.
To sum it up, I truly believe that despite the obvious downfalls of PSI (rates, lack of prestige, lack of appreciation from the general public), it is an extremely gratifying, rewarding and challenging profession. We need to remember that even if someone needs our interpreting services for something as “superfluous” as a common flu, our role is indispensable, and we are truly making a difference in those people’s lives.
