Such Ease

The kids are, for all intents and purposes, little Canucks. Canada is their home (and nature land as S still likes to sing), it is the place where most of their relatives live/are from, and they are fully immersed and integrated into all things Canadian – school, daycare, culture, traditions, language(s), foods, simply e-v-e-r-y-t-h-i-n-g. And this is as it should be.

But they are also immersed in all things German. Not to the same extent, for sure, but we’ve put in a good effort to help them pick up German since before they were even born. We’ve always had a ton of German books and CDs, and of course, I have always spoken German with them. Now that they are a little older, we’ve added other things – DVDs and stuff we find on the internet. But also cultural traditions such as Nikolaus and Laternenumzug. Foods treats like Stollen and Gummibaerchen. Play dates with other budding German-speakers and German Saturday School. Discussions about how their German cousins go to bed when we have lunch and football mania during the recent World Cup. Visits from Oma who brings wonderful and strange things, to the kids and Husband anyway, into our house that none of their Canadian friends have. A father who makes an effort to keep up and at the very least is very supportive of it all, including having to listen to and join in the gazillionth rendition of O Tannenbaum which, inexplicably to me, is a year-round favourite at our house, especially as far as young Punk 2 is concerned.

I marvel at the ease with which both sides of their family histories and backgrounds, traditions, cultures, foods and languages mix, live and grow inside of them. Nothing is weird or odd, everything is accepted as is. They embrace Halloween just as much as Nikolaus, and they love my friend’s grandmother’s Apfelkuchen recipe as much as their Uncle A’s apple pie. S feels sorry for her Canadian friends missing out on the special trip the German Easter Bunny makes each year, and accepts that some kids get gifts for Eid. Both enjoy going through the list of people they know speak German and both react if the radio in the background all of a sudden has a story that mentions ‘Germany’ or ‘German’.

I think of them as little German-Canadians, a label with which I, after all these years here, still have trouble. I don’t know how they will define themselves in the future, but they have not (yet?) picked one side over the other, and I hope they never will. Even if they will be more familiar with all things Canadian and, as a result, probably feel a little closer to that side.

What I don’t want is for them to struggle with any of it, or feel ashamed or embarrassed or somehow different. It is beautiful to see them just accept things the way they are now, able to communicate in both their languages, at home with friends and relatives from both backgrounds, participating in traditions from both cultures, eating the different foods, and having their own friends from both backgrounds.

I love it when S comes home and tells me that she’s taught one of her friends or someone at daycare a bunch of German words, or when she and her best friend determine that she must be German because of how her belly button looks. I love it when they are excited to show this awesome hiking trail we found recently to one of their German friends. I love it when O is trying to figure it all out by trying to categorize who speaks a lot of German, who speaks a little, and who speaks none. And finally, I love that they can both talk about these things, in both English and German (and one day French, if all goes well).

They both are utterly content with their bilingual and bicultural lives, and I hope that never changes.

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This post is part of the Raising Bilingual Children's carnival hosted over at Multilingual Living.