Community stories of women’s empowerment and gender equality

To celebrate International Women’s Day 2023, we spoke to some of our talented community members around the world. We invited them to share their own stories on women’s empowerment and gender equality. We hope you enjoy these powerful stories of strong women who are also fellow community members.

They come from different corners of the globe and have their own unique experiences to share, but they share a goal. They want people to know their stories so they can raise awareness about the issues women like them face. Our collective experience as linguists and humanitarians shows us that women are all too often disproportionately affected by societal factors which make them vulnerable to difficult situations. In many situations, women face barriers to education. They face language barriers and a lack of access to information in a language and format they understand. Because of this some women struggle to access the healthcare they need, know their rights, or stay safe. 

• The stories below include name changes and edits in line with CLEAR Global’s confidentiality and editorial practices. 
• Trigger warning: this post contains references to discrimination, domestic violence, and rape, which some individuals may find distressing or emotionally challenging. 

Read more on women’s rights and equity this International Women’s Day

• Read Mariana’s blog, Stop labeling women as vulnerable.
• Check out Maria’s blog on defying inequality in the translation industry.

Chandler’s story: how lack of support in her native language meant lack of justice.

Lost in translation means loss of justice: recounting domestic violence in a foreign language

One aspect of the growing trend to move abroad that often goes entirely unconceived is how easily recounting domestic violence to local authorities in a foreign country suffers the inevitable consequences of being “lost in translation.”

I took the Girona city bus from the small village I was coerced into living in. I was fleeing domestic violence with my three-month-old son – no car, no friends or family nearby, and still a struggling command of the local language, Catalan. There was no room for error, and yet, from the moment I left until the present day, the errors I made haunt my drowning need for justice.

I entered Girona city’s police station, frantically looking over my shoulder. I quietly mumbled in Catalan, asking if they had any agents that could speak in English. They must have guessed why and had me wait for Agent Elena. She was a local city police agent that specialized in domestic violence. I asked her if she spoke English, my mother tongue. She smiled and replied “no, but you speak Catalan quite well. Please, tell me what you want to report.” I reported the abuse, and I had no idea how awful it sounded as I was saying it. She reassured me that I had enough language ability in Catalan that I could express the pertinent details to a judge – little did she know that was not the case. However, because the crime was committed in the neighboring village, I needed to retell my story to the appropriate jurisdictional police: Mossos d’Esquadra.

That was when the real “loss in translation” happened. Agent Maria, the local Mossos d’Esquadra agent, overheard my struggles with the language, and even witnessed me using Google Translate to express some of the more horrific details, and yet she didn’t make any effort to double-check she could report the facts accurately, or ask follow-up questions to really understand them. A number of details were tragically lost in translation and this later became part of the fancy footwork the opposing party’s lawyer used to tear my testimony to shreds.

While there are many published stories and research about the subject, there is not enough support for women seeking and obtaining justice and therefore protection measures in a foreign country.

Chandler’s story is just one example of how accessing support and information in someone’s native language can change the course of their life. 

Breaking stereotypes and ensuring fair access to information is what motivates Faria, the protagonist of our next story.

Faria’s story: breaking stereotypes and embracing equity

Coming from a South Asian culture, deep-seated gender norms often confine women to their homes. For many immigrant girls, cultural expectations encourage us to find a husband instead of continuing our education or building our careers. When I shared my aspirations to pursue a career in the medical field, my peers teased me that I would never be able to achieve those dreams as a girl. My parents wanted me to follow in the footsteps of my older sister and marry, rather than build a career. Because I question the norms, I am seen as the shameful black sheep in my family. In an ironic turn of events that greatly shaped my outlook, my family insisted that I attend an all-girls high school to “preserve my modesty,” but that has only further opened my eyes to my capabilities and empowered me to embrace a career in a STEM field. Throughout high school, I participated in women’s rights events such as our annual women’s march, and attended a lecture with Supreme Court Justice Sonia Sotomayor. All these events made me realize that I could create my own path despite cultural restrictions. Being an immigrant and a minority, I had a hard time voicing my concerns because I struggled with the English language. However, seeing many students and staff who were like me at my high school encouraged me to pursue higher education and build a career.

My traditional Bangladeshi parents expect me to spend my time in the kitchen, so I experiment in between preparing meals with my mother. 

I plunged myself into school, working hard to get A’s while taking rigorous science classes. Additionally, I started to participate in extracurricular activities and community service. I wanted my family to see that I could live an impactful life through my studies and caring for our community, but I also feared that my future would still end as a housewife. At some point, I realized that while I love and respect my parents, I believe in myself and have decided that I want to pursue my own dreams by continuing my education and becoming a physician.

I aspire to create a program to get minority girls interested in STEM careers by connecting them with mentors from the STEM field. Leveraging other successful women from similar backgrounds and languages to speak with South Asian young girls would be a tool to help combat these harmful cultural expectations. I believe mentorship programs can help empower young girls and change outdated gender roles. The most difficult part of this project would be engaging with girls who struggle with the local language. Without language, it will be hard to help them see the benefits of getting girls involved in STEM careers; deeply held cultural beliefs are hard to change with language barriers. Fortunately, I had a mentor to speak my native language to help me progress in my studies and career. I would love to give this same chance to girls who are struggling with the local language.

Peace’s story centers on protecting young girls and overcoming cultural barriers.

“The fear of who is next lingers in the mind of every parent.”

Just like it was yesterday, I remember the day my neighbor’s child was raped. I was a teenager then and I was sitting outside chatting with my friend. Then, suddenly we saw my neighbor’s child, Monifa, cross the road from the barber’s shop to the place where we sat. She walked in an uneasy and awkward manner holding a bag of biscuits with a gloomy face.

“Monifa, are you okay?” I inquired. She looked at me and didn’t say a word. Later that day I saw my neighbor shouting and seeking help as her little daughter was bleeding. The little girl confirmed that the barber had raped her – a six-year-old child. The police arrested and detained him for some days, but he was quickly released. However, the shame and humiliation he suffered from people sent him away from our area. Monifa is now a grown woman, but her first sexual experience is a pain that she lives with all her life. 

The fact that the mother acted, that the case was reported, and that the culprit was arrested is a positive indicator of the direction our society needs to take if we are to curb violence against women. On the other hand, the fact that he was released a few days later, without further charge and conviction, is a testament to the systemic and cultural obstacles on the path of seeking justice for rape survivors and ensuring that culprits are punished for their crimes.

Amnesty International reports that following the lockdown imposed to tackle the spread of COVID-19 in 2020 in Nigeria, there was an upsurge in cases of rape: “As reports of rape escalated across Nigeria, state governors declared a “state of emergency” on rape and gender-based violence. They also promised to set up a sex offenders register. But over a year since their declaration, nothing has changed.”

TWB, now part of CLEAR Global, has been advocating for over a decade to prevent sexual exploitation and abuse, especially in the aid sector. Sexual exploitation and abuse continue to occur in humanitarian contexts worldwide. We believe that prioritizing language and two-way communication can help prevent it. We worked with the Inter-Agency Standing Committee (IASC) on Protection from Sexual Exploitation and Abuse (PSEA) to make the humanitarian rules on sexual conduct clear and available in languages people can understand, so everyone knows what is acceptable.

We first developed a plain-language version of the principles. Then, we removed legal jargon and complex sentence structures to make the rules explicit and clear. Finally, we translated them into over 100 languages spoken on five continents – from Amharic to Vietnamese.

We want to thank our community members and writers, Chandler, Faria, and Peace, for sharing their stories of life’s inequity as women. It takes courage and compassion to speak up and share your own traumatic experiences for the sake of helping others. We are honored they have chosen TWB to tell their stories.

We would love to hear your story too, and share your experience or inspiration with us on social media.

And join the TWB community today for the chance to work on projects that help embrace equity.

Contributions by 
Chandler Stump, Spanish to English translator and TWB Community member
Peace Agbo, Igbo to English translator and TWB Community member
Faria Islam, English to Bengali translator and TWB Community member

A TWB Community blog post by Maria Scheibengraf

Several authors have studied the dynamics of language and gender, highlighting how society has long perceived translation as a “feminine” activity. This idea is rooted in centuries-old stereotypes: Society has long seen translation as a secondary and derivative activity – unlike the “creative” arts such as literature and poetry. So women undertaking such “lesser” tasks in the shadows was nothing more than a common expectation.

In other words, “Originality, creativity and authority, depicted ’masculine,’ had patriarchal authority empowering them to relegate whatever was female to secondary roles.” (Abdelgawad, 2016). The advice “Good translators are like ninjas – if you notice them, they’re no good” is no accident. I think the underlying message that nobody dares to say out loud is that women should not steal the spotlight from the men authors, deemed to be the real creative geniuses.

In this article, I want to talk about how my experience with leading a translation services company has allowed me to defy traditional gender roles and expectations. My business, which is woman-led and staffed by women, offers translation services for traditionally men-dominated fields such as software, marketing, and SEO (search engine optimization). I’ll start with some personal views about translation, inequality, and the need for empowered women in our industry. Learn more at crisoltranslations.com

Structural inequality is at the root of our industry’s gender divide

The unconscious perception of translation as something “inferior” isn’t the only factor standing in the way of a more equitable gender distribution in the industry.

There are also structural and economic aspects to consider, such as translation work being more suitable for independent contractors than other activities – it’s easier for women to juggle their family life and professional commitments by working as translators.

Because, let’s face it: Women often take the lead in family-related matters, while their men counterparts usually focus on their careers. In Argentina, for example, the distribution of unpaid work in a heterosexual couple is still largely unequal, with women spending up to 6.5 hours a day on housework and caregiving vs men’s 3 hours.

Women choosing translation because of its flexible work hours isn’t an intrinsically bad thing – with freelancing and entrepreneurship comes the potential for higher earnings, which means it’s easier to shatter the glass ceiling. The problem lies in the deeper inequalities that prevent women from finding the time, energy, and resources to make their businesses succeed. How can one possibly balance parenting, running a household, and the pursuit of an entrepreneurial venture without falling into an even deeper pit of exhaustion?

The result is that the vast majority of women translators end up stuck in a cycle of low-paying (don’t get me started on bottom-feeding translation agencies), sporadic gigs, and unable to move forward in their careers. And those few men that do choose the translation industry? They are the ones who can access better-paid and more secure positions. You’ll find them in privileged positions such as managerial roles, executive-level collaborations, speaking engagements, and other high-status opportunities.

Something doesn’t add up

I’ve always thought: if translation is indeed a women-dominated field, then why do so many high-prestige opportunities – translating best-selling books, interpreting at televised events, etc. – seem to skew heavily toward men, featuring a disproportionately low number of women translators? Either there’s a genetic prerogative (which is obviously impossible), or there’s a significant amount of discrimination against women.

My theory is that, when it comes to prestige and visibility, the best opportunities are usually reserved for those who already have the most privileges – men, white people, etc. Put differently: Even if there are no (direct) barriers to accessing translation work, the best opportunities are likely to go to those who already enjoy a certain degree of material and social privilege. Once again, I’m talking about structural inequalities.

All-permeating discrimination, gender and otherwise

One would think that the 21st century would be the age of equality. But, sadly, this is far from being true in many parts of the world – and in our industry too.

About six months ago, I was shocked to find that a renowned industry magazine had launched a nomination for a so-called “Sexiest in localization” award. Granted, they took the precaution to speak of “people” and not “women”, but I found it outrageous that 2022 could still be the year of making people’s looks a factor for recognition. In an industry where the majority of them are women. And despite the magazine saying that by “sexy” they meant “skill, confidence, and intellect” (what?!).

I’m focusing on gender in this article because it’s Women’s History Month. But if we’re to talk about gender inequalities in the translation industry, we must recognize that other forms of discrimination – such as racism and xenophobia – are also rampant.

See Sarah’s post below for another example – how did no one realize that an Asian SEO conference with no Asian experts (international SEO and SEO translation are fields within the translation industry) was just wrong?

My experience as the co-founder of a women-led translation company

Back in 2011, when I started freelancing as a translator, I was already aware of the gender disparities in the field. But then again, I’ve always been overly conscious of any kind of inequality.

I’m autistic, you see (apparently we come with superpowers, one of which is sensitivity to injustice). I guess that also places me at the intersection of two discriminated groups, neurodivergent people and women. I could add that I grew up in an underdeveloped economy where translators receive peanuts for their work.

The stubborn feminist I am, and fuelled by my desire to make the translation industry a better place for all of us, I dreamt of founding a business that would thrive while giving ethics and fair pay the priority they deserve. A sort of “if you can’t find the example, be the example” manifesto, if you will.

That’s how I became the co-founder of a women-led translation company in 2016, together with my three best friends from uni. We proudly run a business that’s built on three pillars: fairness, inclusivity, and camaraderie.

I won’t lie and say it was all easy. It wasn’t. I’ve lost count of the times I’ve had to battle mansplaining, unwanted comments about my looks, a skeptical attitude towards women in business, xenophobic remarks, or the occasional negative comment about my autism.

The fact that we provide marketing translation and SEO translation services for a typically men-dominated field – software – didn’t exactly help pave the way for us either (SEO also features a higher proportion of men than women). Yet here we are, four women entrepreneurs, fighting the fight and striving to make our mark in a world where we often feel like we don’t belong.

The rewards of being part of a revolution

It may have been tough sometimes, but my business has achieved great things too: we operate ethically, we organize regular training sessions and events to promote career development opportunities for freelance translators, and we annoy at least three bigots a week on social media. Add a few public call-outs to exploitative agencies, and I think we can safely say that we’ve made an impact.

The best part, if you ask me, is the community of women entrepreneurs that we’ve been able to build – a wonderful group who support each other, celebrate each other’s successes, and act as a safe haven in an often hostile industry. A great example is that I asked one of them (María Leticia Cazeneuve, from Humane Language Services) to give this article a look and suggest ideas on how to make it better. On a Saturday. And she immediately said yes.

It can be done: we can create an open and inclusive translation industry for everyone. We just need to work together and keep fighting the good fight. This Women’s History Month, and every month, may all of us be inspired to push for change and make a difference.

About TWB and CLEAR Global

Translators without Borders (TWB) is a global community of over 100,000 language volunteer translators and language specialists offering language services to humanitarian and development organizations worldwide.

TWB is part of CLEAR Global, a US-based nonprofit that also comprises CLEAR Tech and CLEAR Insights. CLEAR Global helps people get vital information and be heard, whatever language they speak. We do this through research and scalable language technology solutions that improve two-way communication with communities that speak marginalized languages. Learn more about this important work at clearglobal.org 

Follow us on social media:

Read more on women’s rights and equity this International Women’s Day

• Read our TWB Community stories of women’s empowerment and gender equality.
• Read Mariana’s blog, Stop labeling women as vulnerable.

Guest post written by Maria Scheibengraf, English to Spanish translator and TWB Community member. 

A TWB Community blog post by Mariana Estrada Ávila

About Mariana

Mariana Estrada Ávila is a specialist in communications and human rights. She has been working with international organizations for more than ten years. In 2018 she collaborated with the UN Food and Agriculture Organization in the launch of the #IndigenousWomen global campaign.

It’s time to change the narrative on vulnerability, embrace equity and make women visible

If you work in a humanitarian or development organization, it is likely you’ll  have read or even written or translated many reports, projects, or press releases that mention supporting a common but ambiguous group: “the most vulnerable people.’ And if we look deeper into this vague concept, we find that the first in line are women, followed by children, Indigenous Peoples, migrants, and people with disabilities, among others.

However, in many interviews, rural women, indigenous women, black women, migrant women, and women with disabilities, have agreed that women are not vulnerable people per se. Needless to say, the same goes for Indigenous Peoples, children, migrants, and people with disabilities. As medical doctor and indigenous woman Mariam Wallet Aboubakrine explains, they are people who have been placed in situations of vulnerability by different factors, such as a lack of respect for their rights, marginalization, discrimination, and violence, among others.

Why is the term “vulnerable” problematic?

First and foremost, because it invisibilizes. The problem with the use of such a vague and generalized term as “the most vulnerable people” is that it makes invisible the population that we are trying to prioritize and it ignores the causes of their vulnerable situation. Who knows who you are really addressing when you address such a heterogeneous group? How can you make programs that really help to solve their challenges if the diverse and complex issues and roots are ignored?

Second, the term “vulnerable” carries a negative connotation. It implies that the problem lies with them, or that certain people have some intrinsic characteristics or traits that make them vulnerable. This point has already repeatedly been underlined in the public health sector. The article ‘Vagueness, power, and public health: use of ‘vulnerable‘ in public health literature’ (2019) highlights that the term the most vulnerable people tends to put the burden on the people who are affected, implying that even if programs, policies, and processes change, their vulnerability will remain.

Women are not born vulnerable

Half of the world’s population is not born with fewer capabilities or inherent vulnerability. The systematic lack of respect for women’s human rights, and its intersection with other factors, such as violence, discrimination, or marginalization place women in complex situations of vulnerability. 

For example, see this report published in 2021 on Complaint and feedback mechanisms: Effective communication is essential for true accountability in Nigeria. TWB noted that a lack of access to information in a crisis context could reinforce a situation of vulnerability, whereby women in particular, who often have less access to education and less opportunity to learn other languages, could be disproportionately affected by the lack of information in their own language.

Women around the world have advocated for programs and initiatives that address the root causes that can limit the development of their full potential, rather than an approach that builds on, and reinforces an assumption that they will always need assistance, and can’t lead change. As Pratima Gurung from Nepal underlines, it is important to recognize and make visible the potential of women to contribute to the development of communities and society. 

Using the power of language to change the narrative on vulnerability

What can we do? No one knows the power of words better than those who use language as their main tool of work. First, it is important to promote a general reflection within our organizations. Through our use of language, are we reinforcing society’s tendency to position women as “vulnerable”?  After all, language is one of the most essential components of social dynamics.

Secondly, instead of using “the most vulnerable people” as a catch-all, let us try to identify and name the groups we are really referring to. Let us think about the causes that have put them in this situation. As an example, instead of saying “this COVID-19 pandemic response program will help the most vulnerable people” we can try “this program will help women who were disproportionately affected by the COVID-19 pandemic“. This allows us to clearly visualize our target population and the causes that have put them in a vulnerable situation. 

As writers, translators, and communicators we have the power to change the narrative around vulnerability and thus contribute to reinforcing and making visible that there is something behind this condition – that vulnerability is not inherent to women or other people. 

It is important not to forget that a human rights approach to language means focusing on the people and their dignity, rather than labeling them.

About TWB and CLEAR Global

Translators without Borders (TWB) is a global community of over 100,000 language volunteer translators and language specialists offering language services to humanitarian and development organizations worldwide.

TWB is part of CLEAR Global, a US-based nonprofit that also comprises CLEAR Tech and CLEAR Insights. CLEAR Global helps people get vital information and be heard, whatever language they speak. We do this through research and scalable language technology solutions that improve two-way communication with communities that speak marginalized languages. 

We believe in increasing equity for all people, especially those that are disproportionately affected by language barriers. We endeavor, in our communications, to amplify voices that are marginalized due to a lack of resources in their language. We want to create systematic change in the way the world communicates. This means putting people at the center of our programs and prioritizing humanity and dignity. As a nonprofit, we’re guided by the humanitarian principles of humanitarian aid which means delivering lifesaving assistance to people in need, without discrimination (UNOCHA). Learn more about this important work at clearglobal.org. 

Follow TWB on Facebook and LinkedIn. Follow CLEAR Global on LinkedIn and Twitter.

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Read more on women’s rights and equity this International Women’s Day

• Read our TWB Community stories of women’s empowerment and gender equality.
• Check out Maria’s blog on defying inequality in the translation industry.

Guest post written by Mariana Estrada, English, and French to Spanish translator and TWB community member