When Things Align (Or not)
I have been using the word “align” a lot recently. Partly because it is common academic jargon when you write a conclusion to a paper/thesis: this and that aligns with other research. Or if not, it is “in contrast”. This finding “is aligned with” work by [insert academic’s name and year of publication] etc. Naturally, or maybe unfortunately, this means I am overthinking what it means to “align” in every part of my life. I will spare you the details of my 5 a.m. anxiety-ridden wake-ups (thankfully no longer 3 a.m. so small victories!) and dive right into how this notion of alignment relates to language.
First, a story about alignment (sort of) while meeting a young mother this morning at a coffee shop. She sat next to me with her double stroller, the exact same one we had for our kids when they were a baby and toddler. I later learnt her two-and-a-half-year-old was at nursery, she was out with her baby in that small window before waking and the morning nap. I made a comment about how I used to push around that same huge double stroller as her not so long ago. And then, I blinked. (Yes, I am that woman now and no, I did not say that thing about blinking.) After a brief stroller/buggy conversation, I learned she had just moved to London from Canada two months earlier. She was Ukrainian-Canadian. It turned out we had a lot more in common than the Uppababy Vista. Before I knew she was Ukrainian, I asked if she was teaching her kids French assuming it was her first language as she initially said she was from Montreal. “I never thought about it at first when my son was born and it felt like too much to use Ukrainian with him,” she told me. “And now, my toddler can’t understand his grandparents.” I probably should have told her I was a sociolinguist at this point who could offer information and encouragement if she did want to start using Ukrainian with her children but I did not feel a sense of alignment about going that way in the moment. Sometimes, listening is enough.
After the workshop I gave back in January1 about raising multilingual children, couples came up to me asking me for guidance on strategies. One was an English father, German mother raising a baby in the UK. They asked if they should do OPOL (one parent, one language) but when I learned the father was also fluent in German I told him the best thing he could do is support his partner and use German with her and the child. English would be fine on its own if the child was growing up in the UK. This felt like alignment. Another couple wanted to raise their child with Arabic and English but the mother did not know Arabic and the father was second-generation and English was his dominant language. Then they told me they were very close with the paternal side of the family who were all fluent Arabic speakers and who could help with the language. This too felt like alignment.
But there were also many stories of misalignment: heritage languages being dismissed in the children’s schools by teachers; confusion about which country to raise their child in for one couple; the feeling of English as “intrusion” into the majority heritage language home when the child came home from nursery using English words. Nothing was good or bad necessarily, it was simply a question of what aligned for some families and what did not. I heard a lot of this from my research participants as well. It is impossible for everything to align because life would be very boring, as my mom (Cześć !) often tells me. As a good therapist would probably say (maybe?) misalignment is an opportunity for a shift. Or sometimes, just sharing the story and having someone listen is also enough.
Thanks for listening and Happy Easter to those who celebrate.
Due to popular demand, I will running another workshop this June at Boston Manor House in London. More details to come