April 3, 2026. By Maribel Reyes.

As the daughter of two Mexican immigrants, I know what it feels like to grow up surrounded by barriers. Some of those barriers followed my family into the doctor’s office, where they mattered most. We did not speak English, and because of that, we could not ask questions or explain what hurt. Appointments felt rushed and confusing. My parents nodded along, hoping they understood enough. When words failed us, we relied on hand gestures and guesses. The helplessness in the room was heavy, even when no one said it out loud.

As I got older, I stepped into the role of translator. I filled out medical forms for my mother and explained how to take her medications. I did my best, but I was a child, not a trained interpreter. Still, I could see how much smoother things went when someone was there to bridge the gap.

What struck me most was the contradiction. We lived just down the road from the medical plaza in our small rural town. Care was physically close, yet it felt impossibly far away. The distance was not measured in miles, but in language.

My experience is far from unique. Millions of people in the United States have limited English proficiency, yet many healthcare systems still fail to consistently provide professional interpretation services. Too often, cost is cited as the reason – interpreter services are treated as an extra rather than a necessity. But consider the actual cost of that choice. When patients cannot fully understand their diagnosis or treatment plan, the consequences are serious. Language barriers are linked to higher rates of medical errors, poorer health outcomes, and lower trust in the healthcare system. Missed details lead to missed diagnoses. Confusion about medications results in preventable complications and avoidable hospital readmissions. These outcomes cost far more than interpretation ever could.

I saw the difference firsthand while volunteering in clinical settings. As a native Spanish speaker, I helped translate for Spanish-speaking patients. With someone there to interpret, they finally asked the questions they had been holding back. Fear softened. Confusion vanished. They no longer nodded out of uncertainty or struggled through paperwork the way my mother once did. They could participate in their own care.

Professional medical interpreters are not a courtesy. They are essential to safe and effective healthcare. Federal law already requires language services in many healthcare settings, yet access remains inconsistent in practice.

The path forward is straightforward. Healthcare systems should make interpreter services a standard part of care by investing in trained interpreters and expanding the use of in-person, phone, and video interpretation. Language support should be offered routinely rather than placing the burden on patients to ask. Medical schools and training programs must prepare future clinicians to work confidently with interpreters, so that language access becomes part of good medicine rather than an inconvenience. Policymakers have a role as well: interpreter services should be recognized as a patient safety measure and supported through sustainable funding and reimbursement. When communication improves, care improves – and costly errors decrease.

As a medical student and Schweitzer Fellow, I am training to serve communities like the one that raised me. I have learned that good medicine begins with listening, and listening requires understanding. We should not accept a system where patients are expected to navigate illness without a voice.

No one should feel lost, unheard, or invisible in a place meant to heal.

Maribel Reyes

2025-26 Jim Jones Schweitzer Fellow

ECU Brody School of Medicine, Class of 2028

The views expressed are those of the author and do not reflect the official stance of the

Fellowship or university.