‘Bilinguals,’ says a book you have out of the library on the subject*, ‘are like hurdlers.’
This is not reassuring.
Partly, of course, because as the mother of a proto-teenage boy you are ever alert to potentially dangerous situations and the first thing that comes to mind is not ‘Oh, good god, how will we afford the insurance fees for the gold medal?’ but this.
Although you suppose it is better than hanging out on the swings doing drugs.
Mostly, however, it is because this phrase neatly encapsulates all your fears about bilingualism.
For the book goes on to explain that a bilingual may not be able to jump as high as a high jumper or sprint as fast as a sprinter, but is none the less a true athlete for all that.
Which is all very well, but to you, admittedly a rampantly unrepentant monolingual, only being able to operate at 90% in either language sounds like a terrible fate.
You do appreciate that any bilingual is going to have areas where he is better in one language than another. When the Star is based in Moscow working as a lawyer in a top Russian law firm**, he will naturally have a better developed range of Russian legal jargon than English, more extensive expensive Russian billing terminology than English and a more fluent grasp of some of the subtler Russian conventions for lying than English.
When he goes home to his doting English wife, he will doubtless be better able to chat idly about Strictly Come Dancing in English, make more impassioned complaints about his chops in English, and mutter better rebellious English curses under his breath *** when he his told off for leaving his socks in the middle of the living room floor again.
But there’s a difference between that and not, fundamentally, being able to cut it fully in either language. In any language. In language at all. You spend a lot of time with non-native speakers of English and while they refuse to say sorry, do horrible things to the word ‘squirrel’, drop their articles, butcher the present perfect, insist on asking ‘who plays in this film?’ and are incapable of producing polite intonation unless you grip them firmly by the balls, you never get the impression that they lack the innate ability to really make words sit up, beg and occasionally dance the hornpipe the way you have sometimes done while dealing with certain bilinguals of your acquaintance. You would be happier not shooting for balanced bilingualism if that’s the fate that awaits the Star.
And then how will he win the Nobel Prize for Literature**?
Oddly enough, if the Star were to have a dominant language, you would prefer it to be Russian. After all, you have based you career **** on the fact that the main usefulness in knowing English is because it’s the lingua franca of the world, and for that no one needs to have a Saaf Landan accent.
It is also easier, you think, to be a non-native speaker of English and find a place in the English speaking community than it is to be a non-native speaker of Russian in a Russian speaking community.
B is particularly passionate about this. If the Star doesn’t speak Russian like a Russian, he won’t be Russian is his position.
Which is a shame, as you strongly suspect that it would be easier to achieve that if you weren’t all living in the UK, the default language used at home didn’t tend to be English and that you, of course, the main caregiver, weren’t the resident native English speaker.
And unfortunately the situation is no longer academic. The Star is over a year old and can reasonably be expected to start uttering his first words around now.
You and B have been waiting with bated breath.
The Star seems to have got ‘Mama’ down pat. Unfortunately, he tends to say it to B.
You, he calls ‘Baba’.
You think he means ‘Papa’.
Either way, your figure the honours are about even on that one, although if you really want to annoy B, you point out that he is really more fond of ‘Dada’ than anything else. Russian babies don’t call their fathers (or mothers) that.
Imagine your consternation, then, when, after a weekend at (English) Granny and Grandad’s house the Star came back saying, quite distinctly, ‘Wo di?’ when anything new caught his eye.
Luckily, after intense coaching, he seems to be happy alternating that with ‘Sya?’ which you are assuring B means ‘што ето?’ too.
But on balance it is probably a good thing that the Star’s non-English speaking but very garrulous Babushka arrived last weekend for an extended stay.
*After it has spent a whole chapter failing miserably to decide what a bilingual person actually is. Someone with native-like competence in two languages is, you gather, a definition to be thoroughly sneered at, but since the alternative – labeling everyone who can say ‘konnichiwa’ incipiently bilingual in Japanese – is something that makes you want to fling something hard at the academic who came up with it, that’s the one you will be going with here, thanks very much.
**Which is clearly more likely than him winning at the Olympics.
***Not his nose, as he would in Russian.
****Ha. Haha. Ahahaha. Career.
i’m also raising a bilingual child (tho’ mine is now 8) and think it presents interesting challenges.
love the picture of kazan in your header. when were you there?
Born and raised in Sweden by Finnish parents, I’ve been talking both Swedish and Finnish since I could speak.
Don’t know about other bilinguals, but I’ve always favoured one of the languages before the other, which probably means that my conduct of the languages isn’t 90/90, but more like 100/75.
100 would be Swedish, probably because I was had Swedish friends, Swedish teachers, Swedish childrens’ TV, Swedish books and comics etc.
The only time I ever spoke Finnish was when I talked with my parents. And I never studied Finnish until at the Swedish equivalence of college, but gave up because I found the grammar way too complicated. Thus, 75. I speak it fairly well, but suck at writing or reading complicated texts.
I talked to a colleague of mine whose family moved from Sweden to Australia when she was five years old, and then moved back to Sweden when she was 10.
Her experience is that she is 100/100 in both Swedish and English, but that expressions come more easily to mind in English.
I mentioned the theory that we ought only to be at 90% in either of our two languages, but we both think it sounds like utter rubbish.
Still, that’s only our personal experience and opinion – maybe there are bilinguals out there who will never reach 100%.
Getting the kids onside, julochka, sounds like an excellent plan.
Actually, it’s the Trinity St Sergius monestary at Sergeyev Possard just outside Moscow. We used to go there sometimes when we lived in Russia. This photo is from our last trip. Which was a while ago now, so I should probably find something new, but I like the picture.
I must admit I refuse to belive they could mean all bilinguals are incapable of being 100% in both languages too, Ti, actually.
They did definitely state that bilingualism is not the same as putting two monolinguals together though and I did think it was an interesting proposition.
Incidently, do you count yourself as trilingual now? Surely your English is better than your Finnish at least, if you are only 75%. Or is there a qualitative difference between your ‘native’ languages and English?
Eh…. yes. My English is way better than my Finnish, but that makes me feel a bit embarrassed and that I try not to think about. Much.
I haven’t thought of myself as trilingual because I feel that English is a ‘foreign’ language while Finnish is one of my two native ones. Maybe because I don’t get to speak it out loud on a daily basis – somehow typing in English doesn’t seem to trigger the same area in my brain as speaking does.
Not that I get to speak Finnish on a daily basis any more – not after moving out from my parents’.
No, wait – I have this crazy German colleague (a real fruit basket in a very funny and amusing way) who’s a big fan of Finns and Finland and everything Finnish, and if I bump into him I get to speak a little bit Finnish because he insists on greeting me in Finnish. Hehe.
Anyway – I think that no matter what you speak at home the Star will inevitably pick up a lot of English as long as you’re living in England, because he’ll be surrounded by it, hearing it and, later on, reading it.
Are there any Russian schools in your area?
There are Russian schools. Full time and Saturday. There’s a cost issue for the full time ones though, but it might be doable. It’s mainly a matter of finding reasons for him to speak Russian outside the home though, as your experience shows. So far, I reckon our choices are move back to Russia or join the Russian Orthodox church. Well, join in the Orthodox church. B claims to be Orthodox already.
Still, at the moment the Star seems to be taking to Russian like a duck to water. Can I get him to point to things if they are named in English? Can I buggery. But MiL has him sprinting up and down the living room stabbing his little finger at all sorts of whatsits when she tells him to in Russian.
Cobblers’ children and all that.
I am embarrassed to admit my child does not speak any russian. she knows occasional word or two and can understand some plain sentences. but other than that…It is surprisingly hard, even with me, i.e. the mother, being a native Russian speaker…to force her to speak any.
It would be good for them to speak both languages though. I know many families who manage just fine. so it is my fault, really.
That doesn’t surprise me at all, really. It’s hard to provide a reason for them to speak it when, really there is none.
That move back to Russia is lookign more and more likely, I reckon.
Are you planning to do something aout it or are you not bothered really? You strike me as more aclimatised to the country than B or me for that matter. i think that’s part of it. I feel sure B wakes up at night in a cold sweat at the thought of having a proper Bristish Child.
What is a proper British child, you think? If it is one of those horrid youth types who vandalize cars on our road and wear skirts that can barely be called a skirt…then no. But, do you really think that the youth in mother Russia are a lot better?
There are some really lovely kids in both countries though, and that mine would hang out with them and not the others.
As for the language…I think she should learn some of it at least. I want her to be able to understand me when I speak my native language, since I am her mother. It will also make her more…I don’t know. aware, perhaps? and give her more opportunities in life. who knows how powerful Russia will be when they grow up. having that extra language will be good for them.
Are you currently in the UK then?
Well, I think it’s more that a British child is a proto British adult. B is deep into the anti phase of culture shock at the mo, and the way I dealt with the shock of living in Russia is to be largely incapable of critisising it, ever. One day I figure we’ll move to a neutral third country and actually get a perspective, or at least be in sync.
The youth of Moscow are slightly less scary than the youth in London, mind you. I know a lack of money in Russia is a problem, but it’s easier to be poorish there and not feel as though you are alienated from society. Not, in fact, be as alienated from the rest of society. If you are from a certain backgroujnd in London, you are stuffed. And mostly feral. Some of the violence from kids I’ve seen here I never encountered in Moscow, and I have much the same lifestyle, so it’s not a matter of being out late and such.
I do think there’s an imminent crisis brewing as people in rural Russia sink down the quality of life/ access to ways out scale. Some of the people there give me the same vibe as some of the youngsters here.
Anyway, yes in the UK.