As a video-game translator and gamer, I feel called in question.
I'm often asked, almost with amazement: Do you translate video games? Or: Do you really know how to use a PS4?
I do not intend to raise controversy, but I am deeply annoyed that, in 2020, it is still so strange to accept the fact that a woman plays video games daily or translates them. We often talk about great taboos linked to what women "can" or "cannot" do.
Still, it's not uncommon for someone to turn their nose up when they learn that you, a girl (or a woman), in your spare time, devote yourself to a hobby that should be the prerogative of your brother/husband/boyfriend.
Thank goodness that doesn't always happen. But those rare times when I happen to be asked such questions, my irritation skyrockets. For the next two hours I can't help but think about the arrogance with which I'm asked, in a somewhat patronizing tone: Wow, you play too?
And now to my question: When are we going to stop being surprised that a woman makes a living playing video games? Hopefully soon.
I'm sure among my LinkedIn connections, many other women will feel the same way. I hope that, in a few years, even friends and acquaintances will understand that to translate video games you need to know the subject and be able to adapt it to the target audience. These are the requirements.
Where is the line between these two mindsets? I often wonder about that.
We, freelancers, spend most of our time in front of a PC and, as much as social networks help us get in touch with colleagues, we often stay alone with our thoughts.
We are told, not only in the world of translation but in many areas, that to be successful in life we need to believe in ourselves. We must think positively, stand up for ourselves, carry on what we believe in.
But then the question arises: to what extent do I believe in myself, and when does presumption take over?
It seems a simple question, but I have not yet found the answer.
We study, we inquire, we document. We talk to colleagues and confront them. Before sending a translation, we read it a thousand times, to make sure we have sent an impeccable work. But even when our efforts are rewarded, something always leaves us unsatisfied. Have I done enough? Could I do more? We always have to confront ourselves and learn to live with the many aspects of our personalities.
What do you think?