When my father was involved in a car accident that wasn’t his fault, we did something that might have raised a few eyebrows. We accepted the offer of a translator for his deposition, even though he didn’t really need one.
My father speaks English well enough to understand complex questions and give clear, thoughtful answers. He has lived and worked in this country for decades. He holds an engineering degree from a respected university. He doesn’t struggle with the language.
But I insisted on the translator anyway. And here’s why.
The Deposition Was Never Going to Be Fair
The other party had crashed into my father’s car. He was fully covered for the loss of his vehicle and property damage. The facts were clear. The evidence was on his side.
And yet, they tried to sue him. They tried to reverse the claim. They tried to make the victim into the perpetrator.
Why? Because they saw a foreign name. They heard a foreign accent. And they assumed he would be an easy target. They assumed he would be easier to confuse, easier to intimidate, easier to discredit. They assumed that because he was not a native English speaker, he would not be able to defend himself effectively.
That assumption is racism. And it is a strategy that lawyers use all the time.
The Pattern of Discrediting Foreign Credentials
This was not the first time my father had been targeted because of his background. Years earlier, in a completely different legal matter, the opposing lawyer tried to discredit his engineering credentials. They questioned his qualifications. They suggested that his expertise might not be legitimate. They treated his education as if it were somehow suspect.
The evidence of his credentials was submitted in his affidavit. His diploma was in the exhibit. His work ID was in the exhibit. He had done everything required to prove his qualifications.
And still, they cross-examined him. Still, they questioned his expertise. Still, they treated him as if he had to prove himself all over again.
If my father were a white man, that cross-examination question would not have happened. The credentials would have been accepted without question. The expertise would have been assumed. The voice would have been trusted. But because my father is Chinese, he had to defend himself against an assumption of fraud that never should have existed.
The Emotional Exploitation
This is where the translator became essential. My father is a proud man. He has worked hard his entire life. He has earned everything he has. When someone questions his integrity or his expertise, his natural reaction is to defend himself. And in a deposition, that defense can come across as anger, frustration, or defiance.
A skilled opposing lawyer can exploit that emotion. They can provoke a reaction. They can push until the witness says something that can be twisted or used against them. They can turn a victim’s legitimate indignation into evidence of unreliability.
With a translator, that emotional response gets filtered. The translator does not translate the anger. They translate the words. They provide a neutral, professional version of what my father said, stripped of the emotional charge that a lawyer might otherwise use against him.
The translator was not there because my father could not speak English. The translator was there to ensure that his words could not be twisted. The translator was there to ensure that his emotions could not be exploited. The translator was there to level a playing field that had been tilted against him from the start.
The Strategic Reality
The legal system is supposed to be impartial. But it is operated by people who carry their own assumptions and biases. When a foreign name appears on a case file, there is often an unspoken assumption that this person will be easier to handle. Easier to bully. Easier to confuse. Easier to discredit.
Requesting a translator is a strategic countermeasure. It signals to the opposing party that you are aware of their tactics and you are prepared for them. It creates a neutral record of the proceedings that cannot easily be disputed. It ensures that any attempt to twist words or misrepresent answers will be immediately apparent.
My father’s English is perfectly adequate. He did not need a translator to understand the questions or communicate his answers. But he needed the translator as a shield against a system that would have otherwise used his foreignness against him. He needed the translator to protect him from the assumption that he could be manipulated or dismissed.
What This Teaches Us About the System
This pattern extends far beyond the courtroom. Foreign people are constantly forced to prove that they are real, that they earned their place, that they deserve to be heard. And even when they bring the evidence, it is not always enough.
In my previous posts, I’ve written about the challenges of self-representation—missing hearings, fighting unwinnable motions, navigating a system designed for people who know the rules. But there’s another layer to this struggle that I haven’t talked about as directly: the way race and accent and foreignness can be weaponized against you.
We like to think the justice system is fair. We like to believe that lawyers will act ethically. But the reality is, the opposing party’s lawyer will use every tool at their disposal to win. And if they see an opportunity to exploit a foreign accent or a cultural difference, they will take it.
That’s not a failure of ethics. It’s a failure of the system. And it’s a reality that non-native litigants have to be prepared for.
In Canada, the documented reality is that even racialized lawyers—people trained in the law, licensed to practice, and familiar with the system—have reported facing discrimination, harassment, and a pervasive sense of fear about speaking up. Reports have found that racialized lawyers face “a multitude of barriers” in their careers, with some expressing that they encounter situations that are “blatantly racist”. If professionals within the system are subject to these biases, how do you think they will treat a witness who is not a lawyer—someone who is already vulnerable, unfamiliar with the rules, and perhaps struggling with language? The answer, based on the evidence, is that they will be at even greater risk. The same racial bias that can make a lawyer’s credentials suspect can be weaponized against a witness’s credibility, their composure, and their right to be heard.
Moving Forward
The translator was not for translation. It was for protection. It was a recognition that the system would not treat my father fairly, and a decision to build a safeguard around him.
If you are a non-native speaker facing a legal battle, I would urge you to consider the same strategy. Even if you speak English perfectly. Even if you’ve lived here for decades. Even if you have the credentials and the evidence on your side.
The system is not going to treat you fairly. The assumptions are already stacked against you. You need to be strategic. You need to protect yourself. You need to use every tool available to level the playing field.
And if you are required to write an affidavit, I would suggest having a native speaker refine it for you. Not because your English isn’t good enough, but because the system will judge your language as much as your facts. A poorly phrased sentence can be twisted. An awkward construction can be used to suggest you don’t understand what you’re swearing to. A minor grammatical error can become evidence of carelessness or unreliability. The opposing lawyer will seize on anything they can. Having a native speaker review your affidavit doesn’t mean your voice is lost—it means your meaning is protected. It ensures that your words cannot be misread, misquoted, or used against you simply because of how they were written.
Why I Wrote Condozilla
This is another reason I wrote Condozilla. Clara and her mother navigate not only the legal system, but the subtle and not-so-subtle ways that foreignness can be used against you. It’s a story about fighting for your home, yes. But it’s also a story about fighting for your dignity, your credibility, and your right to be heard.
Because when you’re not a native speaker, the system doesn’t just test your legal knowledge. It tests your patience, your composure, and your ability to stay calm when everything is being used against you.
My father’s story is proof that the translator can be more than a translator. Sometimes, it’s a shield.
Leave a Reply