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Karl Eccleston and Fiona Pepper star in "Skwerl."

If you are a native English speaker, it is probably hard to imagine what people who don’t speak the language hear when you are talking. “Skwerl,” a short film by Karl Eccleston and Brian Fairbairn, attempts to demonstrate what English sounds like to people who don’t speak the language.

The film was created in 2011 for Kino Sydney, “a monthly open-mic night for filmmakers” based in Sydney, Australia. Since being posted to YouTube 12 years ago, it has received over 52 million views.


The short film stars Eccleston and Australian actress Fiona Pepper as a couple whose special evening is disrupted when underlying relationship tensions creep up.

Warning: Strong language

Here's a sample of the script:

THE MAN

So I ran to yourk around the wash today.

THE WOMAN

Oh?

THE MAN

Yeah. That doll's areen blunderface. Can berave that mory alpen john. Joo flan by the long blatt call?

THE WOMAN

Yeah. I coon by the mex areen. Oh you bleed that pribadium by the ronfort line today?

The video received some thoughtful reactions in the comments section. The SkyWolfie6655 summed it up perfectly: “As an English speaker, it feels like I SHOULD be understanding this and I'm just not, like I've heard them wrong or something, this is really well done.”

The film also connected with people who learned English as a second language. “Man, that's exactly what I used to hear when I was younger, before learning English properly. This is actually quite nostalgic,” another wrote.

The video also is an excellent example of what people with a disability may hear even if they speak the language. “This is kind of what it feels like to have auditory processing disorder,” HorseFace1044 wrote. “It's super frustrating because you can almost get what the person is saying, but not quite enough to understand what in the world they are talking about.”


This article originally appeared on 8.19.23

Huda Fahmy had a story inside her that desperately needed to get out.

And yeah, it was a good one.

A Detroit native now living in Texas, Fahmy is a devout Muslim. She thought about writing a book about her life, but after several rejection letters, her sister advised her to go in another direction — web comics.


"I’ve loved comics since I was eight years old, so it felt like such a natural segue, from writing my stories to illustrating them, that I couldn’t believe I hadn’t thought to do it earlier," she explains via email.

[rebelmouse-image 19533430 dam="1" original_size="750x736" caption="All images by Huda Fahmy for "Yes I'm Hot In This."" expand=1]All images by Huda Fahmy for "Yes I'm Hot In This."

Her comic, "Yes I'm Hot In This," captures the funny and frustrating experience of being a Muslim woman who wears a hijab.

While many of her comics come straight from her life, she also writes her main character into situations friends have shared with her and draws inspiration from current events. Through telling these stories, particularly in this format, Fahmy hopes to start a conversation and help people connect across different backgrounds.

"My comics are not without controversy, even among the Muslim community, but it was very important, from the beginning, that I create a safe space to share thoughts, find common ground, and even express opposing points of view in a respectful and light-hearted manner," she says. "If anything, the more I grow, the more I see that we really are just trying to relate to one another. It gives me a lot of hope."

Her comics and interactions with readers offer a bit of hope, something Fahmy herself has needed since the 2016 election.

The rise in anti-Muslim rhetoric and attacks since the election of Trump make Fahmy fearful and anxious, but she does her best not to let it stop her or her family from living their lives.

"'Is today the day someone tries to snatch my hijab?' 'Is today the day I get told to go back to where I came from?' 'For God’s sake, when I walk into a store, I always make sure to know where the exits are, and I find myself subconsciously looking at things as potential weapons I could use to defend myself in case I’m attacked. This is my reality."

But with that fear comes anger and frustration, particularly at the president and anyone else who second guesses the patriotism of Muslim Americans.

"The fact that he can stand in front of MY flag and spew his disgusting, filthy hate makes me ill. So, this year more than any other year past, I am determined to get my stories out," says. "Whether my stories are written or drawn, I am going to share what makes ME an American."

So far, the response to Fahmy's comic has been overwhelmingly positive.

In May, she celebrated her thousandth Instagram follower. Today, just seven months later, she has more than 85,000.

They're people of different backgrounds, coming together to laugh, learn, and connect with each other. It gives Fahmy hope that things won't always be so scary.

"The overwhelming response has been incredibly positive and uplifting," she says. "The DMs I receive the most are ones from followers thanking me for dispelling harmful beliefs they once held."

Breaking down barriers, making connections, and sharing a good laugh? That's one amazing story.

Muna Hussaini walked into her polling station near Austin, Texas, with her daughter on Election Day. Her excitement was weighed down by fear.

Now a mother of two, Hussaini was born and raised in the United States to immigrant parents from India. But as a Muslim woman who wears hijab, she's seen firsthand the angry and xenophobic rhetoric that still plagues this country. Sometimes, she still feels unsafe in her rightful home.

"This election has wreaked havoc on our family as Muslims, who have continued to look on in horror as women, Latinos, Blacks, gays ... so many have been denigrated," she confessed in a private post to tens of thousands of strangers in Pantsuit Nation, a secret Facebook group. (Her post is shared here with permission.)


"These people and their views will still be here after the election. And who will now be walking around with a target on their back?"

Photo by Muna Hussaini, used with permission.

Hussaini watched her 8-year-old daughter press the buttons in the voting booth. She cried.

"Is it true, Mom, do Obama and Hillary think it's OK for two men to marry each other?" her daughter asked. "That's what one kid said at school today and why I should vote for Trump."

Hussaini replied: "Baby, what if tomorrow someone said we can't eat meat because it's against their religious beliefs?"

Her daughter paused to process the thought before agreeing that it wouldn't be fair.

"That's right, sweet love," Hussaini said. "That's the beauty of democracy in the USA. No one's religion gets to be more important than other people's beliefs. That's called separation of church and state. And you can't pick and choose, otherwise tomorrow, someone will get to tell Mommy to take her scarf off. If two dads want to marry, we have to fight for their right to do so. We have to show up and vote."

Photo by Sean Gallup/Getty Images.

Tuesday morning was full of hope and inspiration for the Hussaini family. But the next day, they woke up to an opposite feeling.

Like many parents, Hussaini tries not to push too many worldviews on her daughter. But on Wednesday morning after Election Day, that was simply unavoidable.

Her daughter was terrified of being kicked out of the country she was born in, with an impenetrable wall between her and her friends. She asked, in detail, questions about passports, contingencies, and travel plans and whether it was even safe for her to go school.

Hussaini did her best to explain how the government works — that there's a Constitution and three separate branches with a system of checks and balances built in to make sure no one has too much power.

She told her daughter, "We want to be positive, because as Americans, we believe in our laws and [that] people are generally good" — even though, she noted, she wasn't even sure if she believed those words herself.

But sometimes, she said, you need to believe in something, even if it's just to hearing yourself say it. Sometimes that's what it takes to get by.

Photo by Andrew Biraj/AFP/Getty Images.

"What would be helpful [now] is knowing I'm not alone," Hussaini told me. "That if hate comes out in full force that I can keep my family safe."

"I'm an American citizen, born and raised, and I don't feel safe or comfortable. I don't know when my rights are going to be infringed upon and if they will, what I am supposed to do.

I want to know that my freedom of religion is covered.

I want to know that my freedom of speech is still safe.





I want to know that America is still for me."

In the Illinois senatorial debate Oct. 27, 2016, incumbent Sen. Mark Kirk responded to a challenge about foreign policy with a shocking joke that mocked opponent Tammy Duckworth's mixed-race heritage.

Photo by Gabriella Demczuk/Getty Images.

Duckworth, who was born in Thailand and lost both legs while serving in Iraq, was touting her qualifications in evaluating the need for future military action, citing her family's long history of service:


"My family has served this nation in uniform going back to the Revolution. I'm a daughter of the American Revolution. I've bled for this nation. But I still want to be there in the Senate when the drums of war sound because people are quick to sound the drums of war. And I want to be there to say, 'This is what it costs, this is what you're asking us to do, and if that's the case, I'll go.' Families like mine are the ones that bleed first. But let's make sure the American people understand what we are engaging in, and let's hold our allies accountable because we can't do it all."

To which Kirk responded:

"I had forgotten that your parents came all the way from Thailand to serve George Washington."

After the debate, Duckworth responded on Twitter with a family photo:

The rest of Twitter was ... not so gentle to Kirk.

The comments elicited strong reactions from voters, many of whom were outraged and upset.

Others noted the irony of Kirk having previously been caught of inflating his own military record, including making a false claim that he served in the Gulf War.

Some vowed to take their outrage with them the ballot box.

"Looking white" isn't a prerequisite for having a long, distinguished family history of military service.

Neither is being born in the United States. (Lots of foreigners — Frenchmen, Germans, and Poles in particular — served in the Revolutionary War, FWIW.)

Asian-American soldiers have fought in every major American war since the Civil War, and their representation in uniform is increasing.

Disagreeing over the proper role of the military shouldn't mean disagreeing on who looks like they have the right to join the conversation.

Kirk issued a statement shortly after the debate, affirming his respect for Duckworth's family's service but refusing to walk back his comments.

He tweeted an apology the next day:

The debate about how America should deploy its men and women in uniform is complex and critically important. That debate is not just for white people and hasn't been for decades. One's share of whiteness doesn't track with the amount one is allowed to contribute.

Roughly 7% of Americans — like Duckworth — are multiracial.

Duckworth with another multiracial American you might have heard of. Photo by Jim Watson/Getty Images.

That's about 22 million Americans.

And just like many of them serve their country in times of war, they also serve their country by voting.