Just a couple of wrapping up points and things I wanted to clarify about the last post and its resulting comments.
First, I would absolutely never judge anyone who chose NOT to teach their child another language for any reason they might have. I do think that it's a good thing to do, but just as I think that taking a lunch to work is a good thing to do. I don't look down at those who go out for lunch instead. How could I possibly know about others' siutations, motivations? We're all just trying our best in this our, trying to do our best by our children.
Second, even if one wants to teach another language at home, it is HARD. We are all sorts of gung ho about it in my house and even then, one or more of us will slip, will revert back to English. Will repeat a sentence in Urdu too many times and finally give in, translate it to English for the sake of time preservation. And we're not even dealing with a revolt from the kid yet, telling us he doesn't want to speak in Urdu. I can only imagine how difficult it is or will be then. Because I think that's a common experience. I've heard a lot of parents talk about it, at least, about when their children start refusing to speak in Urdu, answer questions in English only. I wonder if its a stage that all kids being raised bilingually go through? Having never been in that situation before or yet, my only thought is to try and persevere through it, hoping that it's a minor power struggle and that on the other side lies more language acquisition waiting.
Third, even if you're dedicated to speaking in Urdu and try your best to surround your kids with Urdu speakers, there's no guaranteeing that they will actually speak to your kid in Urdu. For some strange reason I can't figure out, in my experience lots of Pakistanis seem determined to speak to kids in English. Even Pakistanis that don't speak english will cart out the few words or phrases they do know when speaking to kids. Even Pakistanis that ALSO know that we are trying our best to drill Urdu into our kids, and those who feel the same way, will slip. Maybe they'll say something in Urdu but then immediately repeat it in English, as if the defauly language of children is English. And it's not just for my white American kid, either, I see this happening in Pakistan when we're there to Pakistani kids too (Though I know the motivation there is often that they want their kids to be as fluent in english as possible so that they will have a brighter future, so it's different.)
Lastly, is the flip side of the coin. I touched briefly on it above, the idea of an impending rebellion against Urdu. Maybe it will just be an elementary school age thing, or I've even seen it persist into adulthood, the hatred of a parental heritage language. The last post I wrote about was all about our enthusiasm and overemphasis of the Urdu language in our home, but it's not all Urdu all the time no matter what for the rest of our lives, either. I have two stories that I keep on the other, cautionary side of my brain also.
The first is my aunt's husband, whose parents emmigrated from China and spoke only Chinese at home. My grandmother tells me that they berated their children's Chinese - in an attempt to encourage them to progress and develop linguistically - saying "You speak third grade Chinese!" As a result, my uncle refuses to speak Chinese at all to anyone else, even though he still feels like he can only speak Chinese to his parents. When Chinese solicitors call his house - they have a very Chinese last name - he will say that no one speaks Chinese there. He didn't want to teach their kids Chinese either.
The other story was from a friend of mine in law school, whose parents were from the middle east (I don't remember exactly, but I think one was from Lebanon and the other was from a different, neighboring country.) Once, over dinner and talks about teaching children language, she told me that her parents also emphasized Arabic in their home growing up and while she was grateful for it, she also remembered being a teenager coming home from high school excited to relay some story and having her mother respond to her excited, quick ramblings in English that "Speak in Arabic! I won't listen to you unless you're speaking in Arabic!" and feeling like saying "Well fine, I don't want to tell you anything anymore!"
The point of these two stories is that while we try to encourage Urdu, I don't want to go so far as to poisoin my son's vision of the language, the culture. I don't know if that's even possible, though. Like many commenters said, it's all an experient, I guess. We just have to do the best with what we've got.
First, I would absolutely never judge anyone who chose NOT to teach their child another language for any reason they might have. I do think that it's a good thing to do, but just as I think that taking a lunch to work is a good thing to do. I don't look down at those who go out for lunch instead. How could I possibly know about others' siutations, motivations? We're all just trying our best in this our, trying to do our best by our children.
Second, even if one wants to teach another language at home, it is HARD. We are all sorts of gung ho about it in my house and even then, one or more of us will slip, will revert back to English. Will repeat a sentence in Urdu too many times and finally give in, translate it to English for the sake of time preservation. And we're not even dealing with a revolt from the kid yet, telling us he doesn't want to speak in Urdu. I can only imagine how difficult it is or will be then. Because I think that's a common experience. I've heard a lot of parents talk about it, at least, about when their children start refusing to speak in Urdu, answer questions in English only. I wonder if its a stage that all kids being raised bilingually go through? Having never been in that situation before or yet, my only thought is to try and persevere through it, hoping that it's a minor power struggle and that on the other side lies more language acquisition waiting.
Third, even if you're dedicated to speaking in Urdu and try your best to surround your kids with Urdu speakers, there's no guaranteeing that they will actually speak to your kid in Urdu. For some strange reason I can't figure out, in my experience lots of Pakistanis seem determined to speak to kids in English. Even Pakistanis that don't speak english will cart out the few words or phrases they do know when speaking to kids. Even Pakistanis that ALSO know that we are trying our best to drill Urdu into our kids, and those who feel the same way, will slip. Maybe they'll say something in Urdu but then immediately repeat it in English, as if the defauly language of children is English. And it's not just for my white American kid, either, I see this happening in Pakistan when we're there to Pakistani kids too (Though I know the motivation there is often that they want their kids to be as fluent in english as possible so that they will have a brighter future, so it's different.)
Lastly, is the flip side of the coin. I touched briefly on it above, the idea of an impending rebellion against Urdu. Maybe it will just be an elementary school age thing, or I've even seen it persist into adulthood, the hatred of a parental heritage language. The last post I wrote about was all about our enthusiasm and overemphasis of the Urdu language in our home, but it's not all Urdu all the time no matter what for the rest of our lives, either. I have two stories that I keep on the other, cautionary side of my brain also.
The first is my aunt's husband, whose parents emmigrated from China and spoke only Chinese at home. My grandmother tells me that they berated their children's Chinese - in an attempt to encourage them to progress and develop linguistically - saying "You speak third grade Chinese!" As a result, my uncle refuses to speak Chinese at all to anyone else, even though he still feels like he can only speak Chinese to his parents. When Chinese solicitors call his house - they have a very Chinese last name - he will say that no one speaks Chinese there. He didn't want to teach their kids Chinese either.
The other story was from a friend of mine in law school, whose parents were from the middle east (I don't remember exactly, but I think one was from Lebanon and the other was from a different, neighboring country.) Once, over dinner and talks about teaching children language, she told me that her parents also emphasized Arabic in their home growing up and while she was grateful for it, she also remembered being a teenager coming home from high school excited to relay some story and having her mother respond to her excited, quick ramblings in English that "Speak in Arabic! I won't listen to you unless you're speaking in Arabic!" and feeling like saying "Well fine, I don't want to tell you anything anymore!"
The point of these two stories is that while we try to encourage Urdu, I don't want to go so far as to poisoin my son's vision of the language, the culture. I don't know if that's even possible, though. Like many commenters said, it's all an experient, I guess. We just have to do the best with what we've got.
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