Author: Andrea Ness

The following is the result of my speaking into the Speechnotes application for 5 minutes, unscripted:

Oh I thought a lot about what I was going to talk about today and what could possibly be interesting for five homeless and it turns out that the only thing I could really think of was to talk about how I got here how I got from being a 23 year veteran employee of statistics Canada to him at 46 almost 27 years of age going back to school to do my masters in education technology so my first my only undergrad degree is from Carleton University in Ottawa and I took political science with a concentration in international relations I had thought at the time that I would work in development or economic development as a diplomat and someone along the way told me that if I ever wanted to have a family that that would not be the right career choice because a good luck finding a man who would want to put their own crew on hold to follow me around the world and die so I gave it up basically which is telling of the time that I started my career and finish university I would hope that other women in my position wouldn’t feel that way anymore or that men wouldn’t feel that way when it came to pursuing a relationship or career remotely with someone they love but anyways I want to graduated from current university I which is in Ottawa I’m from Ottawa I applied for a job at statistics Canada which was right down the street from where I grew up Luckily for people like me who grew up in Ottawa there are an abundance of well-paying I applied for this job my sister already worked there so I am like any industry assume it helps that you know someone she informed me of a competition that was going on and so I applied to that and got hired permanently so basically at 23 years of age I was given a job that I was pretty safe to say I was going to last until I retired with a full pension at 55 know that I am eight years away from it I realize just how fortunate I was in those days I completely took it for granted at the time I showed up every day to the job that I didn’t find particularly interesting I was a client service relations person I’m helping people who want to custom tabulations done custom data files created I would place the order or give them a quote and basically send out that order to be filled by someone else so I didn’t really do the analysis I was more in the customer service department and then I applied to become an economics economist sociologist in the ECE recruitment program and I got into that after about three years where I went from being a client services to a data analyst and I learned a lot about data analysis over the years I did that for another five years or so and then I got into serving management which was basically project management but for survey projects that we’re done on Acosta Cabeza so most of statistics Kinda surveys or all the data that is published are published a new programs that are yearly your quarterly but if there was someone who wanted a custom survey created then you could pay in an hour 🙂 for someone like me to manage the project and I did that for about another 10 years into the past five years I’ve been getting into creating training products so that’s a weird jump of course I basically what happened was because I was never really a data person I didn’t go to school for statistics I didn’t do a lot of deer analysis but I really enjoyed communicating and networking and I did well at my client relations role and in my serving management role I was asked to help work in a knowledge translation role where subject matter expert for example people are experts on machine learning AI and a statistical methodology would send me a bunch of content and I would translate that content from the extremely technical to bite-size digestible and mini presentations that were interesting and as engaging as possible and then Cove it allowed me that the pandemic and the time that we were sent at home for over a year allowed me to so I guess transition from creating still PowerPoint presentations to making videos because I wasn’t going to be in class presenting to anyone anymore and I quickly realize that what we used to do in a classroom or in our workshop environment where we were making presentations didn’t translate well online you could you can’t just take open presentations throw them in Microsoft teams or zoom and expect an audience to engage so I started getting super interested in how to make his presentations are these videos really engaging and learning the pedagogy behind how to teach people how to teach adults how to transition from then doing videos into coursework and along the way I hired someone Am I was valuable asset but I’ve ever met professionally her name is Olga and she graduated from them that program in 2021 and I hired her immediately after she graduated to help teach me how to create engaging interactive e-learning and that we could offer to other public service or anyone in the world really who wanted to come on our website and learn more about the literacy and after working with her for a few years I realize that I was envious of the skills that she had and I realize that there’s no reason why I couldn’t just go in apply to learn those myself I was just what I did and that’s how I ended up Are you today

Here is my analysis of that transcript:

The transcript I produced from my unscripted oral story deviates in significant ways from the conventions of written English. The most noticeable difference is the length and structure of the sentences. What in speech sounded like natural pauses and shifts in thought has been rendered by the software as long run-on sentences with very little punctuation. This makes the text difficult to follow when read, even though the flow would have felt much clearer in the moment of speaking. The transcript is also full of filler words such as “basically,” “anyways,” and “so,” which are useful when speaking but feel redundant or distracting when encountered in writing. In addition, there are several transcription errors, like “five homeless” instead of “five minutes” and “Acosta Cabeza” instead of “a cost-recovery basis,” which highlight the limitations of the technology in capturing speech exactly.

Despite these deviations, there are aspects of the transcript that came through correctly. The overall story is coherent. It follows a logical arc from my undergraduate education to my career at Statistics Canada, and then through to the pandemic, where I became more engaged in educational technology, and finally to my decision to pursue graduate studies. The transcript also reflects the conversational tone and personality that I brought to the oral telling of the story. Even with its imperfections, the text demonstrates the strengths of oral storytelling in conveying voice and presence.

The most common mistakes in the transcript are the run-on structures and the software’s misinterpretations of certain words or phrases. I consider these mistakes because they interfere with comprehension and are inconsistent with the conventions of written English. They reveal how oral language often relies on tone, intonation, and context, which the software cannot capture.

If I had scripted the story, the text would have looked very different. The sentences would have been shorter, carefully punctuated, and more precise. Repetition and filler words would have been eliminated, and transcription errors would not have appeared. A scripted version would likely have been easier to read and more polished overall, but it also would have lacked the spontaneity and authenticity that came through in my unscripted telling.

This comparison underscores some of the key differences between oral and written storytelling. Oral storytelling allows for digression, repetition, and conversational markers that help to maintain the listener’s attention in real time. It can rely on pauses, tone of voice, and emphasis to shape meaning. Written storytelling, by contrast, requires careful structuring into sentences and paragraphs, because the reader does not have access to the speaker’s vocal cues. Writing demands clarity and precision in order to stand on its own. In my case, the transcript illustrates how oral storytelling can feel engaging and coherent while spoken, but appear messy and imprecise when captured directly in text without editing.

 

1. On 7,000 languages in the world

“There are about 7,000 languages spoken around the world…” (1:49)

For most of my life, I didn’t think much about languages beyond English and French. It wasn’t until I started traveling that I realized why: in so many places, when two people don’t share a language, they default to English. I’d always heard it called the “universal language,” but in Lisbon I see it in action almost daily. Dutch people meeting Germans, Estonians chatting with Spaniards, and the common ground is always English. Meanwhile, I’ve been working on learning Portuguese, and that effort has made me appreciate translation tools and bilingual friends even more. They open doors into worlds of meaning I wouldn’t otherwise have access to.

2. On Russian speakers distinguishing between light and dark blue as two separate colours for which we cannot use the same word to describe

“Russian speakers think of these two colours as being more different”. (19:25)

This reminded me of paint shopping at Home Depot, staring at swatches called “sky mist,” “ocean surf,” and “navy dawn.” When I see these colours, I know they aren’t the same, but I only notice the differences if I slow down and really try to absorb them. It made me realize that without specific words for each shade, I’m slower to see them as different. Meaning, language doesn’t just label what I notice, it sharpens how I perceive it.

3. On grammatical gender influencing art

“About 78% of the time you can predict the gender in the personification (of the  concept) from the gender in the artists’s native language”. (25:35)

Even though English doesn’t gender nouns, this made me think about how English does subtly push images. For example, I always imagined “death” as a grim reaper with a masculine energy, probably because cartoons and Halloween costumes trained me that way. Once I heard someone casually say “Mother Nature versus Father Time,” and it clicked that English does assign gender metaphorically. It reminded me that even in a supposedly “neutral” language, we still absorb gendered ideas without realizing it.

4. Counting without number words

“Deaf signers who have never learned a set of number words in their sign aren’t able to do these very simple number matching tasks.” (38:40)

Boroditsky explains that in some languages, speakers lack exact number words, which makes even basic counting difficult. It shows that something I take for granted, like counting, is really a learned linguistic skill. Her comparison to improvising music felt exactly right: what seems effortless to one person can feel impossible to another without the right framework. It blew my mind to realize that for those of us who grow up with number words, counting feels obvious, while for others it simply doesn’t exist. Both examples show how fluency depends on the structures we practice, whether in numbers, music, or language.

5. The importance of what a thing is called

“The word prune lives in a bad linguistic neighbourhood”. (41:50)

Boroditsky points out that the word prune carries a negative image for many people, but when marketers began selling the same food as dried plums, sales went up. This shows how much power a single word has in shaping perception. I’ve noticed this in my own life, I’m much more likely to try a dish if it’s described with appetizing words like artisan or fresh, even if it’s something ordinary. It made me think about how often English repackages familiar things with new labels, and how easily I’m influenced by the framing. It connects back to Boroditsky’s main point: language doesn’t just describe reality, it changes the way we see it.

6. Can language really change thinking?

“You can disrupt people’s ability to naturally use language by giving them a set of words to repeat over and over again”. (43:30)

I wish Boroditsky had expanded on this point. It made me realize how little I know about what happens in the brain when language is overloaded or disrupted. What other cognitive processes are disrupted that seemingly had no linguistic connection? I would like to learn more about the research behind this finding. How taking language away by repeating a certain set of words.

The bag I photographed is one I picked up from a favourite café in Montreal, but it’s now serving me daily in Lisbon, Portugal. Lisbon is a city of steep hills, narrow streets, and endless stairs, and since I don’t have a car here, everything I bring home must be carried by hand. My tote bag has become essential for this reason, and I usually tuck an extra rolled-up bag inside in case I stumble across something unexpected at the market or on my walks.

Inside, the objects I carry reflect both my immediate environment and longer threads of who I am. A hand fan, tissues, sunscreen, and lip gloss speak to the warm climate and the reality that many spaces (including my apartment) don’t have air conditioning. Headphones and grippy socks accompany me on long walks and to pilates classes, a habit that grounds me wherever I am. A small gym towel rounds out this ritual of movement, health, and routine.

Some items tell deeper stories. My Nespresso travel cup is over twelve years old and has been with me across a dozen countries. Its endurance feels symbolic of how I value quality and sustainability. It has traveled the world with me. Similarly, I carry a glass water bottle, not only for practical hydration but also as a small everyday act of avoiding plastic waste. My keys are marked by a ceramic charm that reads “Sept 20,” a quiet commemoration of the anniversary of my first date with my husband, which we celebrate next week after 18 years together. Finally, a Canada flag pin sits among my things, a marker of home and identity that I carry even while far away.

Looking at these objects through the lens of “text technologies,” I notice how many of them act as ways of reading and writing my own life: my phone (not pictured, but represented by its case) mediates almost all of my communication; headphones connect me to podcasts and music, friends and family; the cup, the water bottle, and the tote all carry stories of sustainability; and even the charm and the flag are symbolic “texts,” communicating relationships, memory, and belonging.

The narrative of this collection is perhaps quieter and more personal than the one I project outwardly in public. Outwardly, I may be a visitor in Lisbon, a student, or just another person climbing the hills with a bag of groceries. But privately, these objects show someone who values routines, relationships, and sustainability, and who sees her bag as a small archive of both the immediate and the enduring.

If I imagine this same bag 15 or 25 years ago, it would likely have held fewer digital tools (no smartphone or wireless headphones), but still a water bottle, keys, and a few essentials, suggesting that even as technologies shift, certain needs remain constant. An archaeologist looking at this bag centuries from now might puzzle over the fan and the charm, but they would likely see evidence of a mobile, health-conscious, environmentally aware individual whose belongings reflect both personal ties and global mobility.