\nYou\u2019ll all be familiar with the idea of the world becoming smaller as fast-paced communications connect even the remotest places on earth to the wider world. With the click of a button we can instantly be in touch with someone as far afield as Siberia in the far north and Antarctica in the far south. But does the amount of communicating we\u2019re doing necessarily mean that we\u2019re understanding each other?<\/p>\n
I don\u2019t have to dig too deep into my own experiences of travel outside New Zealand to know how difficult a language difference can make life. I even remember once falling into the dire trap of increasing my volume to try to get my message across. How was that ever going to work? Luckily for me (but not the poor person I was talking to), our topic of attempted conversation wasn\u2019t too important.<\/p>\n
So what must life be like for the many migrants who make their way to New Zealand each year and don\u2019t speak English fluently? To put things in perspective, a quarter of New Zealand\u2019s population was born overseas. And for many of these people, English is their second \u2014 or even third \u2014 language. Imagine what these statistics mean for an organisation like Immigration New Zealand (INZ), which needs to communicate ideas, many of them complex, through a variety of mediums every day.<\/p>\n
At the end of November last year, supporters of the annual Plain English Awards celebrated its 2017 winners at a ceremony in Wellington. INZ was one of the Awards\u2019 valuable sponsors, and representative Anne-Marie Masgoret gave a brief address during the ceremony. While no one in the audience needed any reminding of the importance and value of plain English, Anne-Marie\u2019s words served as terrific reinforcement.<\/p>\n