Everyone Said Being Bilingual Would Pay Off. But It’s Not for Latina Workers

From the moment I started working, bilingualism was a core part of every job I’ve had. At 14, I worked at a day care helping Spanish-speaking kids learn numbers and letters in English, while communicating with coworkers who only spoke Spanish. Later, in teenage lifeguarding jobs, I translated for community members because it was expected in the largely Spanish-speaking neighborhood I grew up in. At the time, I thought of it as coming with the territory. Not something I should be paid for, just a skill I was lucky to use to help others.

School, however, framed language differently. Teachers often preached, “learn more languages, and you’ll make more money.” Spanish, Italian, French, Mandarin, whatever came next. Bilingualism was sold as a direct ticket to opportunity. But while my Spanish-speaking skills have consistently benefited my workplaces, it has never translated into higher pay for me.

The fact of the matter is, speaking more than one language is a blessing that opens up new worlds. And some companies do understand that. According to Preply, nearly half of the companies in the U.S. Fortune 100 advertised jobs that require bilingual or multilingual skills in 2025. Even more, a study from FluentCap from 2019 found that about 90 % of U.S. companies rely on employees who speak another language besides English. And some people are getting paid for this language proficiency. Some estimates suggest bilingual workers can earn anywhere from 5% to 20% more than their monolingual peers. But when it comes to fairly compensating Latinas — many of whom speak Spanish, Portuguese, or Haitian Creole as a first language — for those same door-opening abilities, the promise often falls short.

Sarah*, 29, who works in nonprofit legal aid-adjacent work in New York, describes it bluntly: “I think there is ultimately a difference. My dominant language is Spanish. I’ve been the default person before because there was an awareness that I was a bit more comfortable and flexible with translation work. And now, if I ever leave this role, it’ll just be expected of the next person to be bilingual, with no bonus or special recognition.”

When asked if she was ever compensated for it, she says, “Technically yes, but it’s one thing to be compensated differently, and another to actually be compensated properly for the amount of work that is added on when you’re bilingual.” For Sarah, being bilingual added hundreds of hours of client-facing work, ad hoc translation, and emotional labor, but the salary bump amounted to only about $1,000 more than a non-Spanish-speaking colleague. 

The numbers back up her experience. Based on the U.S. Census, Latinas earn roughly 58 cents for every dollar paid to white, non-Hispanic men, even before considering bilingual labor. Even among college-educated workers, Latinas can still earn 31% less than white men with the same education, and over a lifetime, these pay gaps translate to losses of more than $1 million in earnings. Being bilingual, it seems, does little to close the Latina pay gap if the added labor is expected of your identity but not formally recognized.

While bilingual workers are often told their skills come with financial benefits, those gains aren’t distributed evenly. Language premiums are more likely to appear in higher-paying, white-dominated industries or when the language itself is considered “specialized.” Meanwhile, Latinas are overrepresented in lower-paying fields like nonprofit and public sector work. Even more, Spanish is often treated as a baseline expectation for Latine workers rather than a professional skill. While white workers are often rewarded for acquiring a second language, Latinas are expected to already have it. The result is a gap where bilingualism adds value to organizations, but not to the Latina workers themselves. 

Camila, 27, a public health worker in county government, tells a similar story. Her job requires translating documents, running community health events, and providing education, often in Spanish. “I am the default translator for my team,” she explains. “They equate it to Google Translate. I have to step away from my own work to translate for others. It benefits the organization more than it benefits me. I’m one of the people who gets paid the least on my team, even though I fill in gaps for higher-paid positions.” Like Sarah, she was hired because of Spanish fluency, except there was no extra pay. “When I was hired, it was discussed as something they were looking for, not something that was going to be compensated higher.”

The pattern holds across industries. Camila, 36, a product designer in tech who grew up in Colombia, speaks Spanish, English, Hebrew, and French. She’s used her multilingual skills to open markets in Latin America and navigate multicultural workplaces, including at the United Nations. “I’ve never been compensated differently because I speak languages,” she says. “People are impressed, but it’s never meant any monetary addition.” 

It’s hard to imagine that the devaluing of Latina bilingualism isn’t directly connected to racism or xenophobia. Accents, cultural fluency, and language from Latin America are still treated as lesser, while the same skills in white or U.S.-born speakers are rewarded. In practice, that means the same skill can be rewarded, ignored, or expected depending on who is speaking and where they’re speaking it. Sarah notes, “Whenever it’s someone who isn’t Latino, it’s considered a professional skill. But if you come from a culture where that language is spoken, it’s just assumed you should’ve been there in the first place.” 

While Latinas — who often occupy the roles that require bilingual skills the most, from client-facing work to translating documents to bridging cultural gaps — rarely see that labor reflected in their salary or promotions, the benefits flow overwhelmingly to organizations: broader client bases, stronger community trust, expanded markets, and increased funding opportunities. Meanwhile, the workers themselves absorb the emotional impacts, added responsibilities, and time.

What would fair compensation look like? Camila, 27, suggests a clear path: “Putting in a differential for bilingual pay would make it equal for everyone who has a second language. It would set a standard so that everyone coming into a company with that skill can be compensated properly.” Sarah adds that formal recognition, even tagging bilingual skills onto job titles, would prevent the expectation that bilingual work is just part of the baseline.

Being bilingual has opened doors for many Latinas, but it has also opened a conversation about what is truly valued in the workplace. It’s not enough to teach students in school that speaking multiple languages will make them more marketable. Without structural change, workplace recognition, and equitable pay, bilingual Latinas continue to face a system that profits from their labor and skillset far more than they do. And until that changes, speaking more than one language remains a skill that society expects for free. 

If bilingualism is truly valuable, then it needs to be valued consistently, not just when it benefits employers, but when it comes time to pay the workers who make that access possible. Because right now, bilingualism pays, just not for us.

Only first names are used in this story to protect the identities of sources.

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