Corey, in white and red dress, at her fourth birthday party.
By Corey Heller
My mother once asked me how I could feel comfortable raising my children in a language other than my native language. Being unprepared for this inquiry, my response was defensive.
Instead of using my mother’s question as a spring-board for deeper discussion, I attacked her as being unable to understand the importance of creating a home where my children would consistently hear my husband’s native language spoken. I assumed that she was unable to comprehend the value and beauty of providing her grandchildren the richness of a second language.
Ironically, at the time of my mother’s inquiry, I only had a vague image of what, exactly, my husband and I were trying to provide for our children. It was driven by a deep sense inside of me that what I was doing was necessary, both for my children and for myself.
My mother’s question has stuck with me over the years and I have tried repeatedly to answer it for myself.
Speaking German
I am different when I speak German. I am not a different person. Instead, it is as if I put on different set of clothing: instead of my jeans, I slip on my slacks, and my loafers are replaced by pumps.
Neither is better or worse. They are just different.
This transformation which takes place in me doesn’t specifically come from the language itself. It comes from my associations embedded within and surrounding the language. It connects me to another, very important, part of who I have become.
The Early Days
I can still remember clearly my first days in Kiel, Germany. It was the Fall of 1993 and there was a thick, sweet smell in the air from damp leaves covering the ground.
I couldn’t speak more than a few words of my future husband’s language and I knew nothing of his culture. We had met in Ireland the year before – a sort of “common ground” where he and I were both visitors in a foreign land, swirling in the expanse of a foreign culture.
I figured that after having learned to live in Ireland for a year, living in Germany couldn’t possibly be so different. Right?
Wrong! Nothing prepared me for what was to come.
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“A battle that took no prisoners” – THIS. Good grief, this. And intensive language classes every day until grammar patterns and vocabulary burst out the top of your head.
I remember my mother asking shortly before my wedding, “Doesn’t it bother you that for the rest of your life, the first words that come to your mind will be English, and the first words that come to his mind will be Slovak?” I didn’t have a very succinct answer other than, “Um, no?” but I tried to express that I thought it wouldn’t always be as clear-cut as that, that eventually the language can be like a second skin and different languages might come more naturally with different people (I speak English with this friend, but Czech with that friend, and have trouble spitting out an English sentence when friend #2 is around). I didn’t have much evidence for this at that point, because I wasn’t far enough along, but several years later I would say it’s holding fairly true.
Thanks for this!
Melissa, thank you so much for your comment! It is so wonderful to know that others out there understand what it feels like to have others that we love question us on things like this which we feel so strongly about (yet which seems so illogical on some level). So wonderful to be able to share this journey with you – thank you for your blog and everything you share with us!!
“There were words and sentence structures, ways of being and socializing, and foods that had come to define me. I knew then that I would never, ever, ever be fully content with any one language and limited by only one culture. ” – Yes! I think this expresses perfectly the way I feel about being bilingual and why it’s so important to me, even though I grew up in a monolingual family and culture and have no (visible) ties to Latin America. I feel nostalgic for foods and cultures I’ve experienced abroad and really make an effort to include them in my life here in America. My husband accused me, “You really think you’re Hispanic, don’t you?” No, I know I’m not, but, as you said, I am not content or limited with one culture!
What a fabulous comment, Karolena! It is amazing how something can become a part of us even though we didn’t grow up with it. If we think about it… it is like our spouse or our children – we weren’t born with them in our lives yet our love for them is deeper than anything. I think it is fabulous that you continue with your love affair with Latin America! It makes life so much more magical and magic is what it is all about, isn’t it!? Plus, it is this magic which inspires our children to want to share in our love of language and culture!
I love this post. I was an exchange student in Portugal after graduating high school in the US, and now I’m back in the US with an American boyfriend and I’m still missing Portugal every day. I’m so proud of the command I now have for the Portuguese language. It’s not perfect, but it would be such a waste to not share it. I consider my host family to be family, and I want my son to be able to communicate with them as well.
I feel so alone sometimes speaking a minority language that isn’t even “my own” (to an outsider) so this post made me very happy. Thank you for sharing your story
Thank you for your comment, Chelsea! Yes, it does feel lonely sometimes, doesn’t it? Of course, I have my German husband so I have a good “excuse” to use German. But on the other hand, people wonder why I speak German when my husband is around to do it. They fail to understand what it feels like to have made the effort and fallen in love with another language. It is truly a love affair of its own texture and substance. It is a delight to be in contact with others who understand this and appreciate it. Thank you for sharing!
Corey, I adore this post and how well you captured the admittedly vague but undeniably strong IDENTITY-related reasons that some of us raised in just one culture and one language can have for wanting — even needing — to have multilingual, multicultural lives later on. I grew up in rural Arkansas, for crying out loud(!), but my experiences in Japan and China and my marriage to a Peruvian have most definitely changed my core identity, and I wouldn’t want it any other way!
Yes, it is so much about identity… something really deep down that we wouldn’t ever be able to truly untangle from who we are. That makes it so beautiful, yet also kind of frightening (at least I find). It makes me feel a little helpless – like it has a hold of me in a way that I can’t control. But as you said, I wouldn’t want it any other way. I can’t even imagine what it would be like without it. Thank you so much for your comment – I am so delighted to be connected to others who feel the same!
Wow! That was spooky. Reading this article, I felt like I was reading about myself. You encapsulated so completely my own feelings about my and my children’s language acquisition. My own identity is completely wrapped up in my ability to speak Japanese well and often, in a way that my monolingual family and friends really don’t appreciate. The part about raising our children bilingually being a precious gift also spoke volumes to me. That has always been the way I have seen it. Maybe my children don’t yet see it that way, but I am so hoping that they will when they are older.
I have only just found this website. We have been on this bilingualism journey for ten years now and I never before realised the wealth of knowledge and experience that is out there. I look forward to exploring the site in more detail.
I am so glad you found Multilingual Living, Clare! Mainly out of selfish reasons: one more person for ME to connect with!
This community of multilinguals is just so fantastic!
I know what you mean about our children not necessarily appreciating this precious gift that we can pass onto them. Of course, maybe the fact that they simply take it for granted is the indication that we ARE doing something right? I wonder if they will ever have the same appreciation for their multilingualism as we do for ours – they are growing up with it, they don’t have a need to fight for it as we do.
I just loved reading this post. It really made me stop and thing about WHY I am speaking German with my son. I’m not a native speaker either, but the language and culture have become a part of me, too. How could I not share that with my son? It would be like not sharing my love of music or books – unthinkable!
I have been fortunate enough to have complete support of my family, on both sides. It boggles my mind that anyone would think it a bad idea to speak more than one language with your child!
Now, if only I could make my husband understand how amazing it is to share a language with our son. He’s from the Netherlands but does not speak Dutch with our son. He actually feels more comfortable in English than his native language (I know that will never happen to me in German!). He claims that once our son begins to speak more, he’ll feel more comfortable conversing with him in Dutch. I hope he’s right!
Kate´s last [type] ..How can I feel comfortable raising my child in a language other than my own
“. I will speak German with my children and we will raise them as Germans as much as possible.” Great! I’m a Brazilian Dad talking French to my dear 1 year old daugther and, yes, when I say “je t’aime” it’s just like when I say “eu te amo” to my Mother.
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