The phenomenon of code-switching has emerged as a critical topic of discussion. Marisol Gomez, one of our Customer Success managers, explores this practice, detailing how individuals navigate the complexities of language and cultural expectations in professional settings. Through her personal experiences and observations, Marisol sheds light on the emotional toll that workplace code-switching can take on employees, particularly those from diverse linguistic backgrounds. Discover the profound impact of code-switching on identity, communication, and workplace dynamics.
What Is Code-Switching?
Code-switch·ing: the practice of alternating between two or more languages or varieties of language in conversation.
Code-switching in the workplace: refers to the practice of adjusting one’s style of speech, appearance, behavior, and expression to fit into the dominant culture, different cultural norms, or expectations within a professional setting.
Key Differences
- Setting: Code-switching can occur in any social setting, while workplace code-switching is confined to professional environments.
- Motivation: The motivation behind code-switching in general can be social or cultural, whereas in the workplace, it often relates to professional identity, corporate culture, and communication effectiveness.
- Implications: Workplace code-switching can have implications for employee well-being, as it may lead to feelings of inauthenticity or fatigue, especially if employees feel pressured to conform to a dominant culture.
Let me set a scene: You’ve lost your voice and can’t speak due to a concert or maybe a cold, and you attempt to communicate in writing. But your colleagues have lost the ability to read. Picture trying to work productively in a team setting without the ability to communicate. Sounds frustrating? Imagine that being your reality for 40+ hours a week.
This is the daily struggle for many non-English speakers in the workplace today. I know this all too well. Growing up as a first-generation American, I translated for my parents at a young age, and later, I found myself doing the same in the workplace.
I have watched numerous colleagues lose motivation and grow frustrated because they can’t advocate for themselves. They become dependent on you; it’s hard to assimilate when you’re constantly reminded of your differences. I’ve seen my own sister, as well as fellow first-generation, bilingual, and monolingual colleagues, feel this same obligation to conform to a dominant culture that often overlooks their unique perspectives and contributions. We can’t just stand by and watch people struggle.
I’ve had colleagues who have since gone back home or have embarked on new adventures. Every birthday, holiday, or accomplishment, we celebrate each other without fail, even from afar. This camaraderie we’ve built is invaluable, but it came at a high price. I quickly felt stuck and passed up great opportunities because I felt like I couldn’t leave them without a voice. I became burnt out, angry, and resentful—not towards my colleagues, but towards my employers who overlooked the value of their silenced employees and ignored their basic needs. Balancing my daily work while supporting my colleagues, I needed to tackle these challenges proactively to avoid future misunderstandings in order to keep the peace.
The knowledge and skills they shared with me are immeasurable, and I will forever be grateful; it helped shape who I am today. However, as I reflected on my journey, I noticed how many opportunities and skills can be overlooked due to language barriers. This realization motivated me to support those who have difficulty expressing themselves, advocating for change while navigating the challenges that come with it.
At my very first job in a busy Lincoln Center restaurant in New York City, Don Jesus, who was introduced to me as “el mudo” (the mute), took me under his wing and showed me the ropes of prep cooking. He didn’t have to, and no one had asked him to either. This wouldn’t have been possible if I wasn’t bilingual. Within a couple of months, I got promoted to garde-manger cook, thanks to him. Our sous chef at the time shared with me that in the seven years he had worked with Don Jesus, he had never seen him open up and “talk so much”—hence the nickname. To this day, that still breaks my heart.
At the time, we would have lunch before our shifts all scattered throughout the dining room. I started sitting next to Don Jesus because he had a plethora of knowledge, and I was a sponge, eager to learn. Slowly, more people joined us, drawn by the camaraderie and warmth that Don Jesus exuded. By the time I moved on, we all sat together to eat lunch, creating a small community within the bustling restaurant. I wasn’t scared or worried about leaving Don Jesus alone anymore; I didn’t feel like he was isolated. Instead, I watched him thrive in the company of others, sharing stories and laughter, and it filled me with joy to see him embrace his voice in a way I hadn’t seen before. The transformation was remarkable, and it taught me the importance of connection and support in the workplace, proving that when we come together, we can uplift one another and break down the barriers that silence us.
Then there was Musa, originally from Togo, who was a very angry, short-tempered dishwasher at the time. I learned he spoke French, and one day, out of curiosity, I asked him if he’d teach me some French. I had asked him in very bad French through Google Translate, which, back in the 2000s wasn’t very reliable. The joy I saw on that man’s face forever lives with me. We made a deal: He would teach me French, and I would teach him Spanish. Such a small effort like this can make a huge difference. He quickly picked up some Spanish and became unstoppable, no longer angry and short tempered because he could now express himself to the cooks. Not only did he teach me some French (and some very silly French sayings that I no longer remember), but he also unknowingly taught me to demand my space, and to have the courage to speak up when something wasn’t fair, regardless of my fears and insecurities. His fearlessness is a quality I continue to aspire to, even now.
And I can’t forget Diego & Dagoberto, two bussers originally from Guatemala & Mexico, I met years later on my first day as Director of Operations. They were introduced to me as very “sassy”, “disrespectful”, and “temperamental” workers who could resign any day. I was warned not to ask them for help because they wouldn’t do it. After observing them for a couple of days, I realized the servers weren’t communicating their needs correctly. They spoke to Diego and Dagoberto in short, condescending phrases, as if they were children, saying awful things, thinking they didn’t understand. Oh, they understood—hence why they became so “combative”, “sassy”, and “temperamental”. I quickly stepped in to translate, and we helped the servers learn key phrases in Spanish, and the servers taught them key phrases in English. In less than a month, that restaurant transformed from a hostile, inefficient workplace to a smooth, productive, exciting place to work. I have had the pleasure of meeting Diego and Dagobeto’s families and have been welcomed in their homes; they are colleagues I still hold very dear because they were the first people I advocated for. Their experiences highlighted the flaws in our workplace, which I would come to recognize as impossible to ignore after I moved on throughout my career.
I’ll never say no to translating because I’ve seen and felt firsthand how defeating it is for an adult to struggle with communication. It’s not just about words; it’s about identity, dignity, and the ability to express oneself. When you’re navigating a world where your voice feels silenced, the emotional weight can be overwhelming, especially in a foreign place. I became self-destructive in my efforts to help others, often neglecting my own needs and well-being, but I didn’t realize this until years later. I pushed myself to the brink, thinking that if I could just help one more person find their voice, it would somehow make my own struggles feel less heavy. But in doing so, I lost sight of my own identity and the importance of speaking up for myself. One person can’t do it alone.
I ended up dreaded going to work, but my need to help outweighed my disdain for the job. I turned to unhealthy coping mechanisms to quiet the heartache, caused by the constant translating and the emotional toll of mediating arguments that arose from miscommunication. The stress of being heavily relied upon to translate, combined with the lack of breaks when I returned home, took a serious toll on my mental health. I often found myself snapping at minor inconveniences, making mistakes at work, neglecting my family, and missing important milestones because I was too mentally drained and overstimulated. Despite the challenges, I don’t regret my choices; they were part of my journey. I share this because it took me a long time to understand what I was experiencing. Thankfully, my family has been supportive throughout this process, helping me to recognize the importance of balance and self-care in the midst of my responsibilities.
We need employers and fellow colleagues to show empathy and patience, and to acknowledge the challenges that come with navigating multiple languages and cultures. By understanding the emotional landscape of their employees, companies can create a supportive atmosphere that not only enhances productivity but also promotes mental well-being.
This is just a glimpse into an issue that isn’t spoken about enough. With over 14 years of experience in hospitality and client success management, I’ve witnessed the resilience, missed potential, and incredible growth of many incredible individuals. I’ve advocated and fought for them, and now, thanks to Babbel, I continue to shine a light in a healthy way on what lies behind the curtain—in this case code-switching fatigue, which at work can be influenced by generational differences, gender dynamics, and, of course, language. Regardless of how many languages you know, navigating these shifts can be challenging and emotionally taxing. This isn’t exclusive to me; it affects many more people than you might think.
I have countless stories like these, but they all share a common thread: the struggle for voice and recognition in a world that often overlooks the challenges of navigating multiple languages and cultures. We are fortunate to live in such a diverse nation. Let’s work together to create an environment where every voice is heard and language serves as a bridge rather than a barrier. Each word is significant, and every voice deserves to be amplified. By fostering a culture that embraces linguistic diversity, we can ensure that all employees feel valued and understood. Let’s grow together and celebrate our differences in a positive light, recognizing that our unique backgrounds enrich our communities.
About Marisol
Passionate about creating meaningful connections and fostering inclusivity, Marisol has spent more than six years as a customer success manager and has a rich background in hospitality, with more than 13 years of experience. As a heritage Spanish speaker, she brings a unique perspective to her work and has become a trailblazer for advocacy and diversity. As a first-generation professional, she deeply resonates with Babbel’s mission of empowering individuals and providing autonomy at work, reminiscent of her parents’ experiences.
At Babbel, Marisol plays a pivotal role in ensuring equal growth opportunities for all her clients, aligning with her belief in driving positive change within organizations. Outside of work, she finds joy in traveling, spending time with her adventurous outdoor leash-trained cat Lola, building intricate Lego sets, and sharing her love for adventure with her nieces and nephew, much to the chagrin of her older sister.
