Some conferences leave you with notes. Others leave you thinking differently about the work.
The 2026 Lurie Children’s and Americans Against Language Barriers Conference did both. I am deeply grateful to Lurie Children’s and AALB for creating such a thoughtful gathering and for bringing together interpreters, healthcare leaders, researchers, advocates, government representatives, and policymakers who share a commitment to meaningful language access.
Lurie Children’s put tremendous care into the conference, and it showed. The conversations were candid, practical, and hopeful. Again and again, they reminded me that progress in language access has always depended on collaboration. Interpreters and language access leaders are central to this work, but they cannot do it alone. Our allies extend across healthcare organizations, communities, research institutions, government agencies, civil rights organizations, and policymaking bodies.
Three lessons especially stayed with me.
Language access is often treated as a service that can be summoned when needed. The conference offered a more ambitious view: It should be built into care from the beginning.
That requires people across an organization to work together. Clinicians need to understand when and how to engage language services. Administrators need to make access part of standard operations. Interpreters need a voice in the design of the systems they navigate. Researchers can help identify which practices work. Community members can show healthcare organizations where those systems fail outside the exam room.
Dr. Yuri Takabatake offered one of the conference’s most memorable examples of what this collaboration can accomplish. An interprofessional committee that began with just three people grew to include 43 members representing 11 different roles and specialties. That kind of growth does more than broaden participation. It makes language access a shared responsibility rather than the concern of a single department.
This matters because language access cannot look identical everywhere. A hospital should respond to the community it serves, not to an abstract idea of the “average” patient.
For one organization, that may mean developing a strong qualified bilingual staff program. Another may need greater access to video interpretation or translated patient education. Most will need several approaches working together.
A standardized solution may be easier to administer. But ease is not the same as equity.
The strongest programs anticipate communication needs and place the appropriate resources within the normal path of care. They are created collaboratively, informed by evidence, and designed around the people who will actually use them.
In healthcare, a workaround can look like success.
The appointment continues. The clinician gets an answer. The patient goes home. But the communication failure that caused the problem remains, waiting for the next patient.
Healthcare professionals are skilled at improvising. They have to be. When a communication process breaks down, someone finds a way to keep the visit moving. That instinct can help in the moment, but it can also allow a faulty system to remain in place.
If an interpreter is difficult to reach, a staff member may find another way to communicate. If translated instructions are unavailable, someone may explain them verbally. The immediate need appears to have been addressed, so the underlying failure may never be documented.
One of the conference’s clearest messages was that we cannot quietly absorb these recurring problems. We need to identify them, share them, and bring the right people together to address them. Otherwise, access continues to depend on whether a determined person happens to be present.
A workaround asks, “How do we get through this encounter?” Advocacy asks, “Why was the patient placed in this position, and how do we prevent it from happening again?”
Research and evidence are essential to answering that second question. Data can help language access professionals secure resources, improve workflows, influence policy, support interpreters, and demonstrate the value of meaningful access. Evidence gives us a way to move beyond individual stories, important as those stories are, and show where systems are succeeding or falling short.
It also helps us speak to potential allies in terms they can act upon. Healthcare leaders, government agencies, civil rights advocates, and policymakers each have a role in turning evidence into lasting change.
Interpreters occupy an unusual position in healthcare. They are central to the encounter but can still be treated as peripheral to it. They are expected to remain unobtrusive while listening closely, processing complex information, and making demanding judgments in real time.
The conference made a compelling case that interpreter ethics and wellbeing are not side issues. They are part of quality.
Jane Crandall Kontrimas of the National Council on Interpreting in Health Care walked attendees through revisions to the national Code of Ethics for Interpreters in Health Care. Rather than treating ethics as a fixed list of rules, participants considered what different decisions might mean for everyone involved in an encounter.
Daniel Gutiérrez Mena of Rush University Medical Center approached quality from another direction. He presented neuroscience research on meditation and grounding practices that may help interpreters enter difficult encounters with greater clarity and remain present under pressure.
These conversations reinforced the importance of supporting interpreters with more than expectations. They need thoughtful policies, useful research, responsive leadership, and systems that recognize the demands of their work.
Interpreter wellbeing and ethics are inseparable from quality. An interpreter’s ability to remain focused affects the clarity, safety, and success of the communication taking place and, ultimately, the care a patient receives.
The conference challenged us to think beyond a familiar definition of language access. Having an interpreter available is essential, but it is not the end of the work.
The real test is whether patients can move through the healthcare system without language becoming a barrier. Meeting that standard requires collaboration before the encounter, sound judgment during it, and accountability afterward. It requires research to show us what works, advocates to keep inequities visible, leaders willing to commit resources, and policymakers prepared to turn good practices into durable protections.
Most of all, it requires us to recognize how many people have a place in this effort.
Language access should not depend on someone finding a clever workaround or carrying the responsibility alone. It should be part of how care works, built and strengthened by all of us together.