Confessions of a Former UN Interpreter (Part One)

By Sheila Shermet

Some of you might be reading an article entitled “confessions” with one eyebrow slightly raised, holding your breath. Let me set your mind at ease. My training instilled in me the notion of interpreters being likened to the priests of old (or therapists these days); our clients’ confidentiality is a matter of survival for the profession, never mind ethics. Our clients must be able to speak freely in our presence. Having said that, I understand that writing about my experiences as a staff interpreter is walking a fine line- and I love fine lines. With that caveat “done and dusted” as the Brits say, let’s get on these confessions. 

Staff interpreters at international organizations like the United Nations have it “made in the shade”, right? Well, yes and no- like everything in life. I think most people compare staff and freelance interpreter’s careers in terms of finances, stability, compatibility with family life, pensions and benefits and no doubt assume that the work itself is the same. I would imagine, however, that few give much thought to the psychological and emotional aspects of life as a staff interpreter compared to the freelance model. I know I did not. 

Unlike freelancers who typically work a meeting for a given international organization, association, or business and then move on to the next with a different topic and different matters at stake, the staff interpreter works for the same people, deals with the same topics and issues day in and day out. And therein lies the rub. Most interpreters are curious creatures by nature and very adaptable, but by the same token we need change and are easily bored. For the staff interpreter, the repetitive and relentless nature of the work can sound the death knell for them. And then there are the emotions and feelings aroused by the content of what we interpret – typically denied by most of us educated in the West, as good students of Aristotle. Only the logical mind matters and for God’s sake, repress those emotions.  Interpretation is an intellectual exercise after all, and we are trained to set aside our own opinions and biases so we can serve as clean instruments to channel the information from our clients. 

Well, I am here to tell you that working for diplomats or in the political arena for instance, the difficulty of the job may not lie in terminology, understanding the ideas and conveying them, or even performance nerves. No doubt there are parallels here to the difficulties faced by interpreters working in court. The law may be about logic, but what humans can get up to is often upsetting. To start with, any tension in the room is picked up by everyone, including those hidden behind glass and not actually in the room, but still almost physically receiving the room’s energy through voices transmitting via microphone. I used to think it stopped there. But sometimes, the wars and conflicts that are the subjects of the speeches we interpret hit closer to home. 

The war in Ukraine was my first exposure to the emotional turmoil of a staff interpreter. I was conducting the annual “performance review” of a colleague, one of the most accurate and eloquent interpreters I know out of Russian. I fully expected the review to be a walk in the park. Imagine my surprise when the person suddenly burst into tears and sobbed that they could not face having to speak the words of the Russian delegation about the war in Ukraine any longer. After a series of meetings about the war in the Security Council those first months after the invasion, the colleague had reached a breaking point. After exploring various options, the person decided to resign and started over as a freelancer in another country. 

The war in Ukraine also took its toll on several other colleagues, especially the “heritage speakers” whose Russian families migrated to an English speaking country when they were kids. In some of those families, people were either not speaking to each other or avoided certain topics due to polarization about the war.  It goes without saying that the war impacted the Russian booth colleagues as well- some of whom I learned had family in Ukraine. 

Then there is the Israeli-Palestinian disaster, or “question” in diplomatic euphemism. Although, to my knowledge, nobody resigned over that one. The chief of the Arabic booth was Palestinian, so you can imagine her pain. But there were also a number of interpreters in the English booth with a Jewish background, given the fact that many grew up in the diaspora and picked up languages along the way. Of course, it was no picnic for them to be assigned to the Security Council and have to speak the words used by delegates describing the horrors of the humanitarian situation and war on Gaza or the cruel and inhumane treatment of the Israeli hostages. Naturally, most of the time we all avoided these topics in our interactions among ourselves. You never knew where someone stood or what kind of pain they might be experiencing.

Sheila Shermet is a writer and freelance interpreter. She now lives in Annapolis, MD after serving as staff at the United Nations for 23 years. Her website: www.sheilashermet.com