All the Violence It May Carry on its Back: A Conversation about Diversity and Literary Translation has what makes a point about writing as much as it does translation:

Words have the power to distort and misrepresent, to blind us to the unarticulated, to the wilfully or accidentally obscured. Sometimes, our stories are left untold for fear that they would crack, splinter, and break under the pressure of the moulds available for the telling. Or because the words we have at our disposal would leave large swathes of our experiences in the dark. But words also have the power to reimagine and reshape. At the very least, they can illuminate some of the hidden corners of our lived experience. Audre Lorde writes: “The quality of light by which we scrutinize our lives has direct bearing upon the product which we live, and upon the changes which we hope to bring about through those lives.” Let the stories come as they are then, cracks and all. Perhaps that’s how the right quality of light gets in.

And this sounds strikingly of other problems:

Translators who work with “heritage” languages are rarely part of mainstream literary translation conversations. And those who are invited in can be seen to be doing the service of bringing in “outsider” voices. If a white translator works from a minoritized language, their work is seen to be especially generous, selfless, or adventurous. The same praise does not apply if the translator is a heritage user of the language they translate from. Then they are seen as not having had much of a choice. They are seen as examples of raw talent over delicate craft.

Worth reading for those who have only one language, who will never be translators.