06/06/2026
Today was just a tough day.
Not because of anything major.
Not because of finances, paperwork, or trying to navigate life in a new country.
Just because of my accent.
Today I received training on handling incoming calls at work. Normally I don't do that, but it was a slow day at the clinic and we were helping out the call center.
I deal with curious people every day because of my accent. Most interactions are positive. People ask where I'm from, tell me they like my accent and I get asked about animals ALOT.
To be honest, most Americans just assume I'm Australian.
But today was different.
I had three calls where people became impatient because they struggled to understand me. The last person was honestly just mean about it.
I won't lie — it felt demoralizing.
English is my second language. I attended an English high school in South Africa and have spoken English daily for most of my life. I'm fluent, but I still have an Afrikaans accent and sometimes use words or phrases that Americans aren't familiar with.
When I'm speaking to someone face-to-face and they struggle to understand me, it's usually not a problem. A colleague can quickly step in and help if needed. Over the phone, though, it's different. There are no facial expressions, no gestures, and sometimes all people hear is an accent they're not used to.
After the third rude call, I spoke to my supervisor and told her how discouraging it felt because I wasn't actually doing anything wrong.
What happened next surprised me.
She simply told me it was fine to log off the phones and work on something else for the rest of the day.
That moment really highlighted a difference I've noticed in workplace culture here.
Back in South Africa, I probably would have stayed quiet and carried on because I'd be worried about losing my job or being seen as difficult. Here, my supervisor recognized that I was struggling and didn't force me to stay in a situation that was making me miserable.
And then, just to make the day even more confusing, after work I met another American whose reaction was:
"Wow, your English is really good."
I had to laugh.
The reality is that I will always be Afrikaans.
We still speak Afrikaans at home. We still speak Afrikaans with other Afrikaner families we've met here. We've picked up some American slang along the way and even catch ourselves saying things like "you're good" now.
But we'll always have an accent.
We fled South Africa.
We didn't flee our culture.
Earlier this week someone asked me if I miss South Africa.
Without even thinking, my answer was immediate:
"No."
Not because I hate South Africa or because there weren't good memories there.
But because we left for reasons that mattered to us.
What I do miss is my people.
I miss family dinners. I miss old friends. I miss hearing Afrikaans everywhere without people asking where I'm from. I miss being surrounded by people who understand every little cultural reference without needing an explanation.
Most people we meet don't know we're refugees, and honestly, we don't have to justify why we're here.
When people ask, I usually give the short version:
"We moved to give our kids a better future."
And that's the truth.
I wanted to share this because if you're part of this program, or if you're thinking about immigrating, know that sometimes the things that affect you most are the things you never expected.
Sometimes something as simple as your accent can completely ruin your day.
Not because you're ashamed of it.
But because it's a piece of who you are, and suddenly it's the thing standing between you and being understood.
Today was tough.
But next week I'll answer the phones again.
