www.silverguide.site –

For three years, makeshift English and maths classes in an Indonesian refugee camp were the extent of Marziyah Razi’s education.

When Razi, who was born in Afghanistan and raised in Iran, arrived in Australia as a 17-year-old with a basic understanding of English, she was hungry to resume high school.

This year, Razi, now 28, was admitted as a lawyer.

“It was a dream that came true,” she says.

Last month, the One Nation leader, Pauline Hanson, used a nationally televised speech to take aim at what she claimed was a “growing language problem which is a function of immigration”, labelling it a risk to “social cohesion”. One Nation’s policies include tightening Australia’s migration requirements by mandating English-speaking for new arrivals.

Alongside her vision for a “monocultural” Australia, Hanson cited the 2021 census, saying that “one in four people, 23%, speak a language other than English at home, the most common being Mandarin and Arabic”.

“How can you generate social cohesion if people can’t speak the language? In that same census, 872,000 people self-reported as speaking English ‘not well’ or ‘not at all’,” Hanson said in her National Press Club address.

Those 872,000 people represent just 3.4% of Australia’s population, and include more than 100,000 babies and toddlers.

For Razi, who speaks Farsi, Dari and English, the rhetoric undermines the contributions of migrants, who “bring different skills, different values, whether they know English or not”.

“Not everyone has the opportunity to learn English in their countries. When they come here, they can learn English, just like myself, and they can contribute back to the community,” she said.

In 2015, Razi studied a six-month intensive English language course for recently arrived migrants in Melbourne before beginning high school classes.

“It helped me to get to know the Australian culture and how things work, and also to be more confident with my English,” she recalls.

“Learning English is not that difficult. It’s not like flying a jet or something.”

Without the opportunity to study at an intensive language school, Razi says her integration into Australian life would have been difficult.

“It was also helping me to navigate the system, you know, whether it’s the legal system, the education system, the culture,” she says.

“Those supports are really, really crucial and important for newcomers.”

Razi has worked for a gambling harm prevention program for multicultural communities, where she has used her language skills to help non-English speaking clients.

“A lot of people may not be able to receive the support just because of the language barrier,” she says.

Razi, who became an Australian citizen in 2020, hopes to use her law degree to be a “voice for the voiceless”.

“Seeing a lot of injustice in some other countries towards refugees and towards women, it just fuelled my passion to study law,” she says.

The number of people who spoke a language other than English at home on census night in 2021 was 5.6 million, or about 22% of the population, with 72% only speaking English at home.

Other than English, the most common languages spoken at home were Mandarin (2.7%), Arabic (1.4%), Vietnamese (1.3%), Cantonese (1.2%) and Punjabi (0.9%). Additionally, across Australia there are 167 actively spoken First Nations languages.

Prof Catherine Travis, a linguist at the Australian National University, says it’s “a total misconception to assume that allowing other languages to be spoken detracts from social cohesion”.

“I would say that it could enhance it, because people feel better received in Australia,” she says.

“We know that people whose language and culture is acknowledged feel more committed to the society.”

While many Australian visas require some level of English, those on humanitarian visas may arrive in Australia with limited or no English.

One Nation has pledged to halt government-funded translation services and tighten English language requirements for incoming migrants.

“The English language is the glue that binds our society together. If you do not speak English, under no circumstances should you be able to settle in Australia,” the policy outlined on the party’s website states.

“Translation services indulge the view that not speaking English is a perfectly legitimate decision, which it isn’t if you want to permanently settle here.”

Dr Zareh Ghazarian, a lecturer in politics and international relations at Monash University, says the party’s translation policy would limit civic engagement.

“Translation services can have a really important impact across the community. They can inform people of government decisions, they can inform people of their rights and responsibilities and empower them to be active and engaged citizens,” he says.

“They can provide important health information. This is a very important part of engaging with a wide community.”

Ramya Assaad, a Melbourne mother who migrated to Australia from Lebanon in 2007, used her Arabic language skills during Covid while working at a non-profit to help promote government support schemes.

“I was building a bridge … I don’t believe that this has affected me or affected the community in any negative way,” she says.

Climate advocate Ann Liao is one of Australia’s more than 680,000 Mandarin speakers.

Liao speaks Mandarin to her parents, who are participating in federally funded English classes, when she visits them on weekends.

Liao’s mother, who also speaks Russian, hopes to pass the citizenship test, which is only conducted in English, and vote in the next federal election.

“The big motivation for her [is] to be able to exercise her right as a person in a country that she now calls home,” Liao says.

While Liao’s mother is still learning English, she is already volunteering at a soup kitchen. “She just use[s] her limited English to ask ‘How can she help?’,” Liao says.

“Some people will go with limited language skills, just their physical capacity, mainly just to lend a helping hand.”