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Tuesday, 7 May 2019

Can technology help you lose an accent?

The trick to losing a heavy accent and imitating native English speakers may lie in re-training the brain to hear new frequencies, writes Farah Khalique.

German tennis star Alexander Zverev's struggle to understand sports reporter Jonathan Pinfield’s Yorkshire accent at a press conference at last year’s French Open sent viewers into fits of giggles, and it went viral.
(Credit: Getty Images)
German tennis pro Alexander Zverev had trouble with a reporter's Yorkshire accent in a press conference last year - accents can impede workplace success (Credit: Getty Images)
Lingua franca
By 2020, two billion people will be speaking English, the British Council forecasts. English is already spoken by some 1.75 billion people worldwide. It has become the de facto global language of business; however, speaking with a cut-glass accent is less ubiquitous, given many are not native speakers.
And even native speakers feel judged over the way they speak: over a quarter of Brits feel they have encountered accent discrimination, according to research compiled by ITV and Comres, a British research consultancy.
British designer Paul Spencer can relate to this. Spencer moved further south from The Fens in eastern England and settled in London in 2003. He felt he had to ditch his natural way of speaking and adopt a more neutral accent to get ahead at work.
"It was a conscious effort because originally I didn't realise I had an accent or used local dialect, but people would look at me blankly,” he says. “I would say things like ‘that frit me, that did’ which means ‘that frightened me.’ I thought that was common language but, as it turns out, it's not."
A growing cohort of companies has had a similar idea. Audi, Airbus, Renault and Samsung are adopting English as their official language of business across countries. In practice, the way this plays out varies from company to company. English-only policies may, for instance, apply only to senior staff in high-level meetings, or to absolutely everyone in all countries for all levels of communication. Japan's largest e-commerce site, Rakuten, takes its English-only policy so seriously that it replaced its Japanese language cafeteria menus overnight. At Japanese car manufacturer Honda, senior executives will have to prove they are fluent in English by 2020.
This is all part of a bigger global trend as companies try to grow their international revenues, particularly those that export goods and services, according to Christine Naschberger, professor in human resource management at Audencia Business School in Nantes, France.
"For corporations like L'Oreal and LVMH that export the majority of their goods abroad, the business language is really English. But I would say even smaller companies that are growing their exports are adopting English as an official language. If your accent is strong, it can be a disadvantage in the long run."
A German company exporting goods to suppliers in, say, 20 different countries across continents may not have staff fluent in those suppliers' native tongue, nor would they expect them to all be fluent in German. But they can do business by using one common language: English.
This trend is despite the fact that after the UK leaves the European Union, English will no longer be the official nominated language of any the remaining 27 member states. It will, however, continue to be a working language in the EU. So English – and the ability to speak it understandably with no accent – will still be coveted.
(Credit: Getty Images)
English has become the predominant global language of business, but even those fluent in it may face obstacles because of various regional accents (Credit: Getty Images)
Say shibboleth
Speech has been used to segregate people for millennia. When the Tribe of Gilead defeated the Ephraimites in The Bible, they used accent as a means of identifying surviving Ephraimites trying to flee.
Anyone who claimed not to be a survivor was asked to say the Hebrew word "Shibboleth", which means stream. People from Gilead pronounced it with a "sh" sound, whereas Ephraimites could not say "sh", so anyone who said "Sibboleth" was killed on the spot: 42,000 people failed the test, according to the Old Testament.
Our accent still has profound implications for our social status, says Caroline Belot, pedagogical consultant and director of communications at Sound Sense, a language school in Paris. "If you pronounce a word very badly or don't have the right intonation, you can figuratively get killed in a meeting."
Belot cites the common mistake made by French people pronouncing the word "focus" as "fuc-us", which can instantly damage hurt a speaker's credibility and confidence. "As a French person, when you go abroad, you realise the way we speak can generally be perceived as cold, boring, ironic, sometimes rude, sarcastic, even depressed or generally showing lack of interest."
(Credit: Getty Images)
Every language oscillates at a different range of frequencies, with British English at 2,000 - 12,000 Hz and French between 15 - 250 Hz and 1,000 - 2,000 Hz (Credit: Getty Images)
Re-educating your brain
So, could the trick to true fluency lie in re-training your brain to neutralise your accent?
French ear, nose and throat doctor Alfred Tomatis discovered that each language has its own bandwidth; language schools like Sound Sense in Paris now use this method to help re-train busy French professionals to English frequencies using a device known as an electronic ear. This is a set of headphones that transmits sound through air and bone conduction by making small vibrations that pass through the skull into the inner ear, similar to a hearing aid.
Humans can hear from around 20Hz to 20,000 Hz, which explains why we can’t hear things like a dog whistle because it emits a much higher frequency; we simply don’t hear as well as dogs and other animals.
Every human language oscillates at a different range of frequencies, with British English fluctuating considerably between 2,000 to 12,000 Hz and French much less so between 15 to 250 Hz and 1,000 to 2,000 Hz. If French can be described as flat, English is very wavy. Russian fluctuates between an incredible 125 to 12,000 Hz. This means that some languages, like English and Russian, can go much higher and lower in pitch than say French.
The method trains the ear to the frequency of other languages. First, a trained practitioner performs a half-hour listening test to figure out how well a student can already hear different frequencies.
This is followed up by a two-hour tape recording of music, typically classical music like Mozart, which has been modified to filter out the frequencies that you can already hear well and plays those your ear cannot hear so well. These are switched on and off throughout the recording to wake up the tiny muscles in the middle ear and strengthen them – a form of exercise for the ears that can be done sitting at home.
Belot says, "We mix up music and specific programs in the language you want to learn. When working on a training method you want to educate the ears and mouth to be able to speak on the right wavelength."
Sound Sense combines the method with language classes, preferably face-to-face or on Skype.
Fabienne Billat works as a consultant in digital communications and strategy, which involves frequent travel from France to the United States for conferences. She’s found the method useful. “The focus of the training is really on understanding rhythm and accentuation,” she says. “The combination of classes and the training with the electronic ear is an engaging method. It's different."
Other companies that have used this method to help staff improve their language skills are IBM France, Renault and Cisco. A different technique called the Berard method also uses this form of auditory training to help with language development.
Some language schools claim that using this ear training method can reduce the time it takes to learn a language by up to 50%. The Polytechnic University of Valencia assessed the Tomatis method in a recent study, finding it an effective learning tool.
(Credit: Getty Images)
Language labs became a popular method of intensively training language students in well-funded schools (Credit: Getty Images)
The art of listening
So why can’t we more easily pinpoint accents and actively switch them off? It’s because our habits start when we’re young.
A newborn's brain can perceive the entire range of human speech sounds, but by around eight months it starts to narrow that range to its native language or languages. Some linguists say the critical period for picking up a language completely fluently is at around six years old, others believe the cut-off period is in the teens. By adulthood it is almost impossible to pick up a new language without some trace of an accent, says Jennifer Dorman, instructional designer in didactics at language learning app Babbel.
This means a native French speaker might struggle to speak English with an authentic English accent because their brain can no longer perceive the entire range of frequencies, or pitch, that make up the English language and their mouth can’t reproduce the right sound.
Dorman says, "Some people are naturally gifted at learning languages and very often those were people that were exposed to multiple languages as children. Their brains were open to many different ranges and didn’t start to filter and desensitise them to those different ranges, so it is easier for them to hear sounds.
"Pretty much the whole range of French pitch and bandwidth is outside the pitch and bandwidth of British English. It can take a bit more effort and exposure for French speakers to re-activate those ranges of pitches."
 What practical steps can you take?
Linguistic experts say the best way to speak English like a native, as with any language, is to listen and speak the language as much as possible. Brazilian entrepreneur Rafael Dos Santos says when he moved to the UK in 2002 he took formal English classes and even hired a voice coach, but found the best way to improve his accent was to practice reading with his then-boyfriend before going to bed.
"That's how I learned the most,” he says. “He was a native English speaker and really helped me to develop the language. I would read pages and he would correct my pronunciation."
But in the end, an accent is only a problem if people can't easily understand you, says Russian entrepreneur Polina Montano. She co-founded a company that  advertises entry-level positions in service industries like hospitality. Many of its applicants are not native English speakers.
Montano says, "I believe people in our society are opening up to embracing diversity. You have to believe in yourself.” And the next time your accent might affect your confidence, Montano says to just “tell yourself, ‘everyone has an accent – but mine is cute.’”

Saturday, 4 May 2019

The breast cancer surgeon who got breast cancer

"Like many women, I did not check my breasts. I thought, 'it's not going to happen to me - I'm a breast cancer surgeon'."
  • 20 April 2019
Liz O'RiordanImage copyrightALEX KILBEE

Image captionLiz O'Riordan was first diagnosed with breast cancer in 2015

Liz O'Riordan ended up having to give up the job she had trained 20 years for, after she herself was diagnosed with breast cancer.
In 2015, at the age of 40, she had a mastectomy and last May suffered a recurrence of the disease.
Dr O'Riordan thought she would practise as a breast cancer surgeon for at least 20 years, but as it turned out she only worked as one for two years.
Radiotherapy for the second bout of cancer left her with reduced movement in her shoulder, causing her to make the "emotionally very hard" decision to give up operating.

Liz O'RiordanImage copyrightJOHN GODWIN
Image captionLiz O'Riordan now volunteers for the social enterprise Working with Cancer

Before she was diagnosed, Dr O'Riordan had found lumps that turned out only to be cysts, while a mammogram six months earlier had showed a healthy breast.
But another lump developed and her mother urged her to get it scanned. The surgeon, who lives near Bury St Edmunds in Suffolk, knew what her prognosis was immediately.
"Most patients are drip-fed information. I saw that scan and I knew I'd need a mastectomy, knew I'd probably need chemo because I was young, and I had a good guess of what my chance of being alive in 10 years was, all in that split-second."
Dr O'Riordan, 43, said not many doctors develop the illnesses in which they specialise; certainly, no-one in her department at Ipswich Hospital had.

Dermot and Liz O'RiordanImage copyrightLIZ O'RIORDAN
Image captionLiz O'Riordan with her husband Dermot competing in RideLondon 100 on their tandem in 2017

At first she was "terrified", and several questions ran through her mind.
"How much can I share with my husband and my parents? How much can I stop being a cancer surgeon and just be a patient?"
Although she knew what was happening physically, she had no idea what it would be like to experience actually having the disease.
"I know what it's like to tell someone they have breast cancer.
"I didn't know what it was like to have to have a stiff upper lip, dry your tears, leave the clinic, go through the waiting room, through the hospital corridor to get to the car park and to start howling."

Armpit post-surgeryImage copyrightLIZ O'RIORDAN
Image captionScarring, fibrosis and tethering of the soft tissues on Dr O'Riordan's chest wall left her with reduced shoulder movement

After talking it through with her husband Dermot, she decided to announce her illness to her 1,500 Twitter followers, who mostly knew her through her love of baking, triathlons and her profession.
Social media, she said, ended up becoming her lifeline and she received an "outpouring of support".
"It was patients who told me how to cope.
"There is always someone awake at three o'clock in the morning to talk to you when you're on a steroid high."
Social media also put her in contact with other medical professionals with cancer, and she has since set up a WhatsApp group for medics with the disease.

Liz O'RiordanImage copyrightJOHN GODWIN
Image captionThe former consultant found she was "reliving" her own cancer when she returned to her department

After treatment for her first bout of cancer, Dr O'Riordan returned to work as a surgeon at Ipswich Hospital. But she said she didn't realise how "emotionally challenging" it would be.
She said having had cancer herself, she thought she could help people in a different way.
"But it was one of the hardest things I have ever done.
"When you're breaking bad news and telling a woman they've got cancer, it's really tough at the best of times, but I was reliving it, and I could see myself and my husband and what we would have looked like when we crumpled and heard the news.
"You're so desperate to connect with someone who has a shared experience, but I couldn't - they were my patients."
She added: "I was left with pain after my mastectomy and was suddenly operating - I was very much aware that I might give them the pain that I have, and I didn't want to do that, and it was really, really hard."

Liz O'RiordanImage copyrightLIZ O'RIORDAN
Image captionScrubbing up before surgery

She said she also struggled to sit in weekly meetings discussing patients' prognoses.
"In my first meeting back, my first patient basically had my cancer. She was the same age, she had my cancer give or take a millimetre - she was me on paper.
"I heard all my colleagues say 'that's really bad'."
In 2018, Dr O'Riordan's cancer returned to the same armpit. It was found while she was having a scan before the removal of her reconstructed breast, which had been causing her a lot of pain.
It led to a second dose of radiotherapy to the same area, "something rarely done".
She was warned that she might not be able to move her arm properly afterwards but, if she did not undergo surgery, the outlook was bleak.


The result was more scarring, fibrosis and tethering of the soft tissues, which indeed did reduce movement in her shoulder and meant she had less strength in her arm.

Dr Liz O'RiordanImage copyrightDERMOT O'RIORDAN
Image captionDr O'Riordan unveiled a statue of herself in Bury St Edmunds' Abbey Gardens last year
Presentational white space

She said her employers did their best to help her to resume her career for a second time.
"I had intensive physiotherapy, I saw an orthopaedic surgeon - because it's a huge thing to say, 'the thing I've spent 20 years of my life, and degrees, and PhDs, exams and courses to become an expert in the thing I love, I can't do again'.
"I can go about my daily life, but to be able to operate safely, that's never going to happen," she said.
By now Dr O'Riordan also felt the psychological need to have "cancer-free time", especially given that returning to work before the recurrence had been traumatic.
In addition, the risk of the cancer returning yet again was now higher than before, and there was a danger it could come back elsewhere.
After about four months she made the decision her career as a surgeon was over.
"It was bittersweet, and really, really hard saying goodbye."

Liz O'RiordanImage copyrightLIZ O'RIORDAN
Image captionDr O'Riordan took part in a half ironman in Staffordshire after her treatment in 2017
Presentational white space

Ironically, she now advises people on their rights to return to the workplace after cancer.
Dr O'Riordan, whose husband is a consultant surgeon, said she was "lucky" to be able to afford not to have to do paid work.
She recently began volunteering as an ambassador for the social enterprise, Working with Cancer, which had advised her on her employment rights after she decided to return to work in 2017, following treatment for her first bout of cancer.
A temporary director at the hospital had told her at this point that she was expected back on a phased return over four weeks.
"I was still suffering from fatigue and trying to get my brain to work again," Dr O'Riordan said.
"I didn't realise that if you've had cancer, you are classified as legally disabled under the Equality Act and your employers have to make reasonable adjustments to allow you get back to work.
"So many people are just desperate to get their lives back when they have cancer, but it can be incredibly hard to find your way and a lot of employers don't know how to help cancer patients - or whether they should."

Liz O'RiordanImage copyrightLIZ O'RIORDAN
Image captionDr O'Riordan, pictured here giving a talk in Stuttgart about patient care, is also a professional public speaker

Dr O'Riordan said most of the coaches at Working with Cancer have had the illness themselves and "they get it".
As well information about their rights, they prepare staff and employers for the emotional pitfalls.
As a result of her chemotherapy, Dr O'Riordan had short, curly hair.
Her coach asked her: "What will you do when people don't recognise you?"
She had dismissed the notion, until one day she realised a colleague she was talking to did not realise who she was.
The preparation she did with Working with Cancer mostly helped her to avoid any awkwardness.
Just before returning she emailed her line manager and explained she was happy to talk about her illness with colleagues, but not during work hours.
"You have a right to ask for things to be made easier for you. They can't sack you because that would be discrimination."
The former surgeon said her work as an ambassador had helped her reconnect with her sense of purpose.
"As a consultant surgeon I was helping 70, maybe 100 women a year with breast cancer.
"But through my book, the blogging, the talking and being an ambassador for Working with Cancer, I can help hundreds, thousands of women."

https://www.bbc.com/news/uk-england-suffolk-47767386