Meeting Alice

I'm often torn between love and hate for our technological world. On the one hand, I cherish email. I am enamored by Instant Messaging. Being able to call my husband while I am riding on the bus to find out if he is picking up our kids from daycare is invaluable. But at other times I can't stand the attention my little laptop receives from me. My children can be pulling on my sleeve crying out, "Mama, mama, look at what I just made" and my response is a distracted, "Oh, right, yes, mmm hmmm, just a second, let me finish this email". My husband says, "Just shut the darn thing off!"

What it all comes down to is balance. I need to simply outline my priorities and set time for each. Spending time with my family is my top priority (why else have I made the effort to only work three days a week) but I also need time at home for things that are not family related, like the Bilingual/Bicultural Family Network and Multilingual Living Magazine!

Many months ago, I came across a few blogs from bilingual/bicultural families like mine and soon was in email contact with a the writers. They were eager to be in contact, as was I, and soon we had formed friendships. Most I only know via their written words: I have never heard Lilian's voice and I don't even know what Clo looks like. It doesn't really matter to me that I am unable to meet with these new friends in person. There is something so meaningful about knowing what is REALLY on their minds; topics that wouldn't necessarily come up via in-person chats over coffee or tea. When I meet others in person, I rarely discuss the intimate details of making a bicultural relationship work or how torn I feel not being able to live in more than one country at the same time.

Maybe it is me. Maybe I am the one who keeps verbal conversations simple and superficial. Maybe when I hear the words come from my mouth I simply don't know how to say what I really want to say and so I don’t say much of anything important. Do I need more time, more contemplation to come up with the right words for the thoughts rolling around in my head? I am a people-pleaser at heart so when I meet in person I often feel nervous, limited, hesitant, worried, anxious. I want everyone to feel comfortable, I don’t want to create any confrontation or offend anyone. Yes, when I write about my thoughts via email or a blog, I feel a kind of expanse of space and time, a limitless freedom to be who I am. There is no one to offend since I am not writing to anyone in particular other than myself.

Then there is Alice. When Alice sent me her first column, it brought me to tears. It all started when I contacted her about her wonderful blog and if I could include it in our blog list. Then came a few email discussions about the dream of a newsletter or magazine for bilingual/bicultural families and whether she wanted to contribute.

It was the middle of the night of February 2006 and I had been sitting in front of my computer for over an hour, just staring. I felt hopeless. I felt that I had nothing to say. I felt that my dream of a magazine was over, that none of us had anything to say, especially me, and that I would have to simply let it drop. My husband couldn't console me, even though he tried.

Then Alice's email arrived. She had sent me a column for our new newsletter. I opened it and as I read through it my skin started to tingle and I started crying. It was beautiful and it was brilliant! Her words were exactly what I was looking for and I was so thankful and honored that she was out there sharing her feelings, thoughts and humor with me. She gave words to the world of a bilingual family, she was painting a picture, together with humor, of the struggles that so many of us face!

At the end of August of this year, I met Alice and her beautiful, wonderful family for the first time. We had decided that while in Germany visiting my husband’s family, we would rent a car and drive down to Austria to visit Alice. Somewhere in southern Germany, near the Czech border, I called her to let her know what time we would arrive that night. That was the first time I had ever spoken with her! After 6 months of almost daily email contact and that is the first time we ever heard each other's voices! I was nervous and a little worried that hearing each other's voices would dispel the image and myth we had created of the other. I can't speak for Alice but for me it was a delight and only further defined this wonderful person with whom I had formed a close friendship.

We arrived late that night in our rented black Mercedes (was the same price as a standard car that could fit three car seats). It was raining and our borrowed GPS navigation system had wanted to take us on small back roads through the Austrian countryside before we had figured out how to reprogram it. But we had now arrived and were about to meet for the first time. Alice met us part way to her home and helped scuffle our bunch of 5 into her dry home.

First meetings are always a little awkward and we had a lot of experiences that we were bringing with us. We were meeting each other for the first time “backwards”: We met for the first time already knowing each other's difficulties, struggles, foibles and pet peeves rather than first putting up our best personas until our true selves slowly seeped through. But meeting that way means having already gotten to know each other and not needing to start from the beginning. We met already having gained the trust of the other. I knew that Alice wouldn’t put me down for my insecurities and she knew that I would do the same for her. We knew that we were working together, not against one another, and had nothing to prove. In fact, we spent more time explaining to our husbands what we were talking about since they lacked our history.

The most fascinating for me was seeing where Alice lives, her town, her home, her laptop, her children's rooms. This was Alice's world. Her long shelves full of English literature books, a testament to her studies in the US. The things she delights in discussing when given the space and time. Of course, with our 5 kids under the age of 5 running around, we were often distracted and lacked the peace of mind to engage in drawn-out discussions.

We also met Alice's brothers and mother and in-laws. We were given a glimpse into her world of extended family, and it was a delight! English and German and Spanish mixing together fluidly and somewhere in the middle were conversations about life and love, past and future. Children running around in socks in the back yard... voices yelling out, sometimes in English, sometimes in German.

Writing this makes it seem so other-worldly, so unique. But it didn't feel that way at the time. It all felt so natural, so normal while at the same time so special, rewarding, a true honor It was a weaving of lives and families as if we had all known each other for ages while at the same time we were relating the basics of our lives - how we met, where we live, what our life is like in Seattle, what life is like in Europe vs. the US. Nothing to prove, nothing to defend, just a mixing of people and information.

Meeting Alice also meant meeting Austria. When we headed back to Germany, we had a better understanding of what it meant to be Austrian and a deeper understanding of Austria. During a trip to Linz, we were inspired to purchase a map of Austria and books of Austrian fables for our children (and, well, maybe for us parents too). Our children talk about their visit to Austria. They remember the street cars and underground train in Vienna. They remember playing with Alice's daughter and picking flowers outside the monastery in Alice's hometown. Visiting Alice has meant making her and her family a part of OUR life, not just mine. Seeing her in person with my family has meant all of us sharing in the experience. To me, that is priceless.

We will visit Alice again (if she will have us). We aren't done getting to know Alice and her family. We aren't done getting to know Austria. We haven't completed our tour of Vienna and my children really want another lollipop from the Turkish bakery around the corner from where we stayed. And the next time we visit, we are going to simply continue where we left off (if not further ahead) and this time we are going to have studied up on Austrian history BEFORE we cross the border. And if we are lucky, we'll get our black Mercedes rental again and drive 220 kilometers an hour on the long, flat stretches but this time I'm going to have my video camera in hand to document it all. *grin*

The Sweetness of Language

Language has its way of capturing the minds and hearts of young and old - the melodies, the intonations, the rhythms, the meanings. Although I am confident in our choice to raise our children bilingually, I have my moments of weakness and insecurity. Before heading to Germany I was anxious as to what the reactions of family and friends would be to my speaking German with my children. As a non-native speaker, I make many mistakes which my children pick up. I am trying to improve my German but it is sometimes hard to keep up. I was worried that family might feel that my choice to speak German with my kids was only teaching them incorrect German.

It is possible that some do think this. However, our first evening in Germany dispelled many of my worries. It wasn't that anyone said anything to me about bilingualism or my language abilities. In fact, I was in the other room when it happened: I had phoned my mother in California to let her know that we had arrived safely in Germany and then passed the phone to my oldest son so that he could talk with "Grammy". In the livingroom, where he was speaking, stood quite a few German family members. When my son's telephone conversation began, the rest of the room suddenly went quiet and everyone listened as he spoke. He switched comfortably between English with my mother and German with his siblings and others in the room - transitions without hesitation, without contemplation. I listened from the other room as family members discussed their awe and amazement that a child of only 4 years old could converse so comfortably in two languages. They were not only delighted with what they were witnessing, they were praising my husband and me for making the effort to speak German with our children and their delight with how well they could speak both languages. My heart filled with warmth and joy and my earlier concerns melted away. I felt that at that moment, our efforts were truly coming to fruition. At that moment, it was clear that what we were doing was not only wonderful but completely necessary.

What delighted me the most was that family and friends didn't ever treat our children differently. They never assumed that they had to speak English to our children. They spoke to them using the same sentences, using the same words as they did other German children. This may have seemed perfectly normal to everyone but I know better. I know that this meant that our children really, truly have the chance to feel comfortable in more than one culture. This means that family and friends actually think of our children just as German as any other German children, just as family and friends in the US think of our children just as American as other American children.

I have no idea what the future holds but I have returned home with a renewed sense of confidence and commitment. I am looking forward to improving my German - if not for the sake of myself, then at least for my children. I can't help but think that some of the over 300 lbs of books that we brought back with us from Germany will help (the majority of which are for the kids).

Since we are planning on homeschooling our children, we have returned as fully prepared as we can be. My husband's sister-in-law spoke with the principal at the local school who was delighted to give us books that the school has used to help teach children to learn to read in German. We purchased two year's worth of activity books, early reader books, story books and much, much more. In fact, it was hard not to pick up a few children's books each time we had the chance to borrow a car and go shopping.

What I was reminded of during this visit with family and friends in Germany is that life is full of unexpected joys, kindness and honesty if we keep our minds and hearts open to them. The world actually does want us to succeed in our goal to raise our children bilingually and biculturally despite the fears and anxieties upon which we and others tend to focus. As our children grow older and the reality of our choices become more visible and obvious, I am sure there will be new challenges and concerns and I'm sure I will be riddled with new anxieties and fears. In the meantime I feel ready for whatever challenges our bilingual family might face. Of course, I say this as the holidays are approaching - the time of year when being a bicultural family can be rather tough and a husband living abroad feels the distance between himself and his homeland. But that is another blog...

Stay tuned for my next blog where I meet Alice face-to-face for the first time!

Language Skills

The time has come... tomorrow we head to Germany for an extended visit. During this visit, all family members (except my mother-in-law who was with us when she was born) will meet our daughter for the first time! They will hear our middle son speak actual words and sentences. It is amazing to realize how much changes in just two years.

I have to admit that I am a little nervous. Not necessarily about the flight, despite the recent high alert issues at airports, since that is pretty much out of my control. In fact, I am very excited about the flight since it will be a direct flight (usually we have to transfer to a different plane) to Copenhagen followed by a car ride into Germany. Strange to think that we will leave one country, arrive in another and then drive into a third - all in less than 24 hours.

The aspect that is worrying me a bit is my language. It is easy to get away with speaking German to my children in the US since (1) German speakers are delighted to see that I am making the effort (2) German speakers don't have any personal attachment to me or my kids so they aren't worried that my kids might not be learning correct German language skills (3) non-German speakers are usually interested and excited that we are raising our children bilingually.

But what will family in Germany think? Now that my two oldest children are speaking in complete sentences, asking questions that demand detailed answers, and are sometimes unwittingly challenging the limit of my language abilities in German, I am worried that family in Germany will start to feel concerned. Will they feel that I am holding my children back linguistically when they hear how imperfect my language skills are? Or will they be delighted that I am making the effort? I assume it will be the latter but when it comes to these kinds of issues, it is always hard to know how family, who are emotionally involved, will react.

In the end, I get along very well with my in-laws so I'm fairly certain they would feel free to discuss their concerns with me - if they have any. The catch is that they are all Northern Germans, which means it sometimes takes them a while to get around to saying something. But when they do say something, it means they already will have taken the time to consider their thoughts first.

What it really reveals is that no matter how confident I sound, no matter how much encouragement I get from others, no matter how many times people share their delight in the effort I am making, deep down I still feel insecurities and question myself. Life is not lived in a vaccuum and the impressions and comments of others have an impact. On the other hand, maybe this is the way it should be? Maybe it is my insecurities that keep me open to new ideas and allow me to adjust and come up with new plans as needed. But it also means that if I get out of balance and lose too much confidence, then comments from others might have more impact than they should. Balance is the key.

So, we will see what happens and what kind of conversations we have about raising children bilingually. It will probably not even be much of an issue since the pattern is to speak German with one another anyway. Most probably won't even think about it. They probably will be delighted that their grandchildren, neice and nephews, and cousins can communicate with them without any problem. Beyond that, our conversations will most likely be about changes in life since we were last there, politics and the meaning of life.

Stay tuned and I'll let everyone know how it went when we get back in September.

Taking the First Step

On the weekend we purchased our first homeschooling curriculum for our children: a Pre-K program in English. If it looks good, then we will try out the Kindergarten program as well. It feels like something real has taken place; a movement of sorts, from just thinking, dreaming, envisioning, to actually taking a step. What is it about actually paying for something intended for a specific purpose that makes it feel so real to me? Our next step will be finding items that can work as a complementary curriculum in German while we are on vacation in Germany. As many of you probably know, homeschooling in Germany is illegal.

Although the curricula we are purchasing and putting together are for my children, they could care less whether they have a curriculum or not. They don't care whether the items we have are new or used, are loaned from the library for a few weeks or are actually owned by us. They are in their own world of immediacy and items like books are simply to be read, toys to be played with, regardless of where they came from. So, the question is: for whom is the curriculum? Is it for my children or is it for me? Does it take purchasing a curriculum to make me feel like a "real" homeschooling mom? Aren't the hours spent sitting on the sofa reading books, building structures, adding and subtracting items for the fun of it, practicing writing while creating a birthday card all considered homeschooling as well? Ultimately, what is the difference between homeschooling and doing interesting things at home? I am really not sure but I have some kind of faith that makes me believe we will figure it all out as we go along. At this point we still have room to make mistakes, try out different methods and curricula and to find our way toward what it really means to homeschool.

When we decided to raise our children bilingually, there was a period of time when we went through the steps of making a conscious decision; going from just raising our children bilingually in some kind of natural, haphazard way to coming up with a kind of plan, thinking about a process with desired outcomes and possible pitfalls and then taking that first, small, tentative step followed by a steady, comfortable gait. Once we took that first step, we became a new family in many ways. We didn't necessarily DO things differently but we felt different about what we were doing and we felt that we were starting along a path that although would demand continual deciphering skills, would nevertheless contain mileposts, roadmarkers and a general flow of direction (albeit, a direction, mileposts and roadmarkers of our own making to a great degree). We went from saying we were intending on raising our children bilingually to saying, "Yes, we are raising our children bilingually in English and German." Before we took that first conscious step we just weren't sure what kind of answer to give.

Will we regret the decision to homeschool our children bilingually? I have absolutely no idea since we haven't really even started but all I can say right now is that it just feels right to all of us and we are waiting in anticipation for that package to appear on the porch any day now. In the meantime, our oldest child continues to request that he "do homeschooling" which means working in a math workbook that we purchased recently at our local math and science store. I go over the pages in his math workbook with him in English and my husband goes over them in German. Which, as all new choices do, brings up a new set of questions: will I be confusing my children if I homeschool them in English even though we all speak German at home? Will it all work out if we do the work in English and then when we are just sitting back chatting it is all in German? There is something inside my head that is telling me, "Yes, it will be just fine," but of course there is another part that says, "Hmmm, how can you be so sure?"

My Week of English

I just spent a week speaking English with my children. Although we are a German-speaking household, when my mother visits, I speak English with my children when she is around. Many say that this will confuse my children, at the very least, and could cause problems in other areas (identity, code-switching, etc.). Despite such warnings, this is the decision we have made as a family. In the end, we know that for us there is a lot more to raising multilingual children than just language.

For us, raising multilingual children is also about raising multicultural children. Indeed, multilingualism is actually only one facet of this dual approach of language and culture. When it comes down to it, family is the most important focus for us. What is the point of it all if family members are disenfranchised and bitterness arises? What would our children think if a kind of "family feud" were to erupt because of our issues with language?

This doesn't mean I completely give into the wishes of others (since in the end I don't think anyone really wants that). Instead, we all meet half way; a sort of compromise, if you will. This means that my mother accepts, and perhaps even encourages, us speaking German at home with our children but when she visits, I make the transition of speaking English with them and her so that she can be a part of it all.

It took quite a few years to come to this decision and it was the Bilingual/Bicultural Family Network that helped us find the answer for our family. In the beginning, I was extremely resistant and my mother felt very left out and perhaps even a little lonely during our visits together. Despite our arguments, I know that deep down we were less angry with one another than feeling hurt and a little betrayed.

It took many visits, inquiries into ourselves as to what language and culture meant to each of us and what, exactly, were the issues that were on our minds the most. My mother needed to hear why speaking German was so important to me. Sure, it seems obvious but it was important for her to hear it, to know exactly what it all meant to me. And I needed to know which aspects were bothering her the most and why. I had created all kinds of assumptions as to why she was upset but many of them were completely inaccurate.

One solution could have been for me to speak German with the children when she was around and then translating everything. This was simply not an option for me. This is my mother. She is my flesh and blood. She raised me, cared for me my whole life and now I was going to translate to her what I just said to her grandchild in a foreign language! No, not an option for me. It is strange enough that I speak a foreign language to my children. However, I was also not going to pretend that when she wasn't around I continued speaking English with the children. I'm not sure that she would have even wished that I not speak German with the chidlren, but even if she had, it wasn't an option for me either.

There is always the question of what would we do if my mother (or any family member or friend who didn't speak German) lived with us for an extended period of time? I'm not sure what the answer would be but I know that we'd all come together to discuss it and that we'd ultimately find a good solution. We'd find out how each felt about different choices and we'd find something that felt right for us all. No one winning and no one losing. Just a few humans finding their way along a less traveled path of language, culture, identity and diversity. No one said it would be easy but it is certainly interesting!

American Independence and the World Cup

Uh oh. That day has arrived again. The 4th of July has arrived and my husband is smiling and gritting his teeth. We are running around with flags and red, white and blue everywhere (food, flags, decorations). What my husband can’t stand is the flag-waving and arrogance by certain people that takes place in the US on this day. It frustrates him, it makes him nervous. He is slowly becoming numb to many ignorant statements: “America, the greatest country”, “The US is number 1”. The hubris in such statements simply makes him shake his head in wonder. As an American, I just ignore such statements since I hear them as fluff, nothing real or important. And I can't help but associate the 4th of July with my childhood: barbeque, fireworks, the warm envelopment of summer and sprinklers. For me, the 4th of July is a glorious day of laughter and fun. And did I say how much I remember the fireworks?

Ironically, my husband, who is German, will be participating in something oh so non-American on the American Day of Independence: he will be watching Germany play in the World Cup together with his other German friends! I find the irony simply delicious! Should we all wave German flags as the games begin and then trade them for American flags after the game is over and we set off our fireworks and eat our potato salad and apple pie? Should we begin the day with Wurstchen and then move on to Hot Dogs? Start with football/soccer cheers in German followed by picnics in English?

I’m sure that in the end it will somehow all fit together and somehow it will all make sense. But right now I feel a little nervous. I want to have a plan, to know what is coming, to know who will do what when and speak what when. Perhaps I am worried about whether cultures will clash or whether everything will transition smoothly between language, culture, identity and loyalties. I tend to stand between worlds, as a kind of mediator, the referee watching the game of my bicultural family and making sure we all play by the rules. No one can be completely at fault. Sometimes a yellow card is issued but never a red card. No one can or will be thrown out of the game and there can be no exchanges of players. Whether wounded or not, we must continue.

I’m still not sure how or why certain things have the meaning that they do. Why does a piece of fabric with stars and stripes waved by my children at a 4th of July march drive my husband to frustration? My husband explains to me what it was like growing up a German and the relationship with flag waving: it happens only in special situations. Perhaps that is why watching the World Cup right now is so emotional for him. The crowds of spectators there in my husband’s country of origin, millions of them have arrived, setting foot on German soil. My husband is here. And then he witnesses all of those fans in the stands waving their flags. They are just pieces of material yet they seem to represent something my husband misses so much: his homeland, his family, nuances that are only his own.

Tomorrow we will do many things: we will eat American food, we will cheer on a German team, we will share our lives with American family and friends and we will share our lives with Germans. We will witness flags from different countries being waved and will allow ourselves to feel whatever we might feel. And then in the dark, my brother will bring out the fireworks and we’ll stand in the middle of our little neighborhood street with our oh-so-very-American neighbors and share in a tradition that we can all agree upon.