Speaking your mother tounge

A while ago I asked Zoe, because I was really curious about it, what language she was thinking in. She laughed and said silly mom, silly question. "When I'm with you I think in Danish, and when I'm with daddy I think in English, of course". Yes, silly me, I forgot that when you are bilingual the whole thinking process is as transitional as the speaking process. But there was a reason I asked. Because I have always been aware that one of the reasons my English is so fluent, despite me not starting to learn until I was 10 or 11, is that I think almost exclusively in English. When moving to Florida right after high school to go to college, I simply switched my main cognitive language from Danish to English. I quickly got compliments for my accent (American) and just make a a lot of effort when I speak, which means I can easily pass as American (however, occasionally with an exotic British twang). Zoe, on the other hand has a Danish/Scottish/Irish* accent in English and a cute English accent (lack of the very distinct Danish 'stød') in Danish. I'm sure she will eventually settle on something, hopefully a Copenhagen accent like me and a Scottish accent in English.

These days I find myself having to dig up a lot of Danish from the back of my mind, in order to teach Zoe. I'm actually still very good in spelling and phrasing myself in written Danish, despite often claiming I have forgotten. But for Zoe's sake, I need to keep it up and teach her so she can become fluent. I will have failed if she is asked "where are you from" in Denmark when she becomes a teenager. She is from Denmark because her mom is. And she is proud of it.

Meanwhile, I'm on my way to Copenhagen to spend two weeks there on holiday. While Zoe is in daycare in Stockholm, spending August with her dad.

*Her best friend in daycare is Irish and I noticed recently that they have exactly the same mixed accent, probably because they spend a lot of time together. Sadly, she is 6 months older than Zoe and started school this year, where Zoe is not due to start kindergarten before next year according to the Swedish system.

Bilingual Christmas

Zoe expressed her joy regularly ever since I explained that we would spend Christmas and New Year in Copenhagen. She had been asking continuously since December 1st when it was winter and when it was Christmas, only to diss my affirmative answer because it obviously could be neither since there was no snow yet. She has never experienced a Christmas with snow in her life, yet the heavy snow falls during her two winters in Stockholm have left such impression that winter is snowy and Christmas is during winter. Slippery concepts and hard to explain. Especially since it is almost never white Christmas in Denmark and rarely in Stockholm.

Taking the train to Copenhagen on the 21st, I prepared her that it would be cold but no snow, but it would be Christmas. We arrived just in time for a pre-Christmas eve with some of my parents' friends and three children around Zoe's age. The oldest boy started singing a Danish Christmas song which didn't impress Zoe much but when I suggested 'Rudolph the red-nosed reindeer', she chimed in quickly and sang loud and clear the whole song, to each of the adults' bedazzlement. Because she sang it in clear and perfect English. The boy stared at Zoe in disbelief and said "but I know it in Danish" and after him singing a few words, all the adults joined and helped finish it. When I looked down at Zoe she was tearful and quiet. She didn't know it in Danish like everyone else. I tried cheering her up and said she was great at so many other songs. But the look in her eyes, the sense of her being an outsider was etched into her expression and I had to work hard the rest of the evening to make her feel better. For the next few days I kept singing all the Danish Christmas carols I knew, over and over again, so she could hear them. On Christmas day she was able to join on a few choruses.

Being bilingual is one thing, being bi-cultural is even more difficult, especially when not exposed to one of the cultures on an everyday basis. I try to teach her everything about Denmark that I can, read books, tell stories and feed her Danish food. But she will always miss out on things which will then be tough on her to see others master fluently. She considers herself Danish (although she mostly gets confused when people ask her where she is from because what does that mean to a triple citizen anyway?) and loves to speak Danish. But by not living here she is missing out on many things too.

Well, at least her wish came true, which was a complete surprise to me: On Christmas day we woke up to quite a big snowfall and we went out to the park and played and had a snowball fight. She enjoyed every minute of it but I had to prepare her the snow would be gone next morning. "It's okay mom, I don't have my sleigh here anyway". 

Home is where you speak the language

I often get the question: so is Zoe trilingual? when explaining our situation. I laugh and say no, she is bilingual, her first language is English, second is Danish. She is in an English speaking group at her trilingual daycare (the third language is French) so she is not around much Swedish. But fact is that she is learning. A couple of her good friends there are Swedish speaking and she understands a lot and uses a great tactic: She holds her breath for a second and thinks, then she says the thing in Danish with Swedish intonation and Swedish words if she knows them. It's adorable. Except I hate it. I hate that she is learning Swedish because of my own rejection of it and my own aversion against living here.

It was a close friend of mine who pointed out the problem last night during a long phone call where I had expressed my grief about yet another matter (because if my life wasn't complicated enough, my love life sucks as well*). Fact is that Zoe likes Sweden because it is her home. She needs to learn Swedish if she is here so she can integrate other than just in daycare. I have seen her joy when we are in Denmark or the US and she can speak to people in public. She doesn't shut up, she tells everyone in a shop that it's her birthday and that she got a present, or that she is going to the playground. Here in Sweden she uses her best listening skills before turning to me asking "Mom, what does the lady say?" and I have to translate.

Zoe likes Sweden and if I express any dissonance in relation to her home, she will only get confused and sad. I tell her things like "we don't speak Swedish at home" if she ever utters a single Swedish word but it only reflects my own grief, it does not help Zoe in her understanding of her home and identity as Danish/Scottish/American/Swedish. My friend also told me to stop complaining, because I can't change the things I don't like about Sweden, and instead make a decision to stay or go. So that's what I'm trying to do. Trying to make that decision.

*As in being in love with someone who doesn't want you, having an affair with someone who also then doesn't want you and really just wanting to be back with someone who definitely doesn't want you. 

Scandinavian, is that a language?

I was running late for a meeting with other senior colleagues from different universities and art schools because the administrator had simply emailed an address for the meeting place and I, in my naivety and foreignness, had just entered the seemingly central address (based on the post code) into my phone 45 minutes before the meeting started. It turned out that the place was on one of those little islands that Stockholm consist of, which was connected through a 20 min walk or a bus leaving every half hour. Obviously everyone knew where this was but not me and I arrived after almost falling on the uncleared paths 10 min after the supposed start. Now Sweden consist of painfully punctual people, punctual to the degree that makes anyone else nauseous because we realize only too late that they all make sure to be in the meeting room 15 minutes before just to have time to take off coats and take out laptops. I therefore entered a circle of people waiting for me (since I was one of the senior people) to start the meeting. My two close colleagues immediately switched to English as I made my way to the remaining chair. "But isn't Louise Danish?" one blond middle aged woman said in Swedish, in a hostile tone and I knew I had lost. My colleague tried to save me by explaining the weird situation but the blond just turned to me and said loudly in Danish "I also speak Danish!". We ended up arguing, me consistently continuing in English, her insisting on speaking Swedish. "I don't speak Danish anymore", I said, trying to make them understand my attitude. "I don't have an academic vocabulary in Danish". I finally gave in and said that of course they could conduct the meeting in Swedish and I would ask if there was something I didn't understand, but I would contribute in English. As it often is with academic settings, it turned out that there were two other non-native Swedish speakers which would complicate the "Scandinavian" meeting; non-natives do not understand other Scandinavian languages than the one they have learned. The languages are simply too far from one another.

The meeting dragged on with no decisions made as all Swedish meetings, with me contributing about 50% of what I would have done in a meeting conducted in English. I hope the others made up for that lack by being comfortable in Swedish. We agreed on another meeting (as is most often the outcome of Swedish meetings) and went for lunch. When I finally left with my colleague and friend, whom I have no communication problems with whatsoever, I turned my eyes together with her in annoyance over what had happened. "I wish I could just lie", I said, "like I do when I'm out. Just saying I'm American".

I hate living in Stockholm. I hate having to explain myself all the time, having to either lie or giving my life story, which most people don't understand anyway. Because most people will always be more comfortable in their *native* language (whatever that actually means). Well, guess what. I'm not. I'm most comfortable in English and I think that since my research world is in English, it is not far-fetched that we speak English, unless every single person in the group has a solid native language in common that they feel more comfortable with. As much as I agree that we should all be able to speak Scandinavian to one another, it does not work in a meeting where you are trying to find common ground and are talking about issues that are *always* talked about in English (i.e. we write academic articles in English). And that whole Scandinavian thing is bullshit anyway, I tried so many times to speak Danish out in shops and Swedes get this look of desperation and switch quickly to English. If I speak accented Swedish, they are very short with me because I'm a nasty foreigner but if I speak English they treat my like if we are all actually in New York. Because all Swedes have traveled to New York and know how friendly Americans are so they want to pay that back. If you are American.

I left that very afternoon for Copenhagen to spend the weekend there. Already as I landed I felt included into society again. I was able to joke with ticket counter people and shop people. Not as well as in New York but at least not as awkward as in Stockholm. No, Scandinavian is not a language. 

Bilingual magic

As most parents must realize sometimes, I occasionally look at Zoe and cannot believe she is already 3 and a half. I cannot believe I have such a sweet, funny, clever daughter who is as easygoing as she is. And I cannot believe that she can talk so much when it was just yesterday when all she could say was 'ma ma' (which meant both milk and mom). But what I also find myself astonished of is her bilingualism and improvement of language every single day, something that might be less common. The most impressive thing to me is that I hardly ever hear her speak English, so when I do it's like if your kid started tightrope walking without you ever having seen her practice. Or riding a bicycle for the first time without any help. I'm in awe how good she is and how clearly she speaks English until I remember that it is actually her first language. And I forget that although she really, really tries, her Danish is still muddled and she is missing a few key sounds that means mainly family and people who know her, can understand what she says. There are no hard r's and no sk's or kl's. In fact her pronunciation makes "sitting" and "saying" (in Danish) sound the same so we have a few funny conversations that are only funny until Zoe get so frustrated that she starts crying and screaming: Mommy you don't understand me! And I feel so bad that I go down on my knees and comfort her by promising to listen better and to understand better. But I still didn't know if she wanted to sit down or say something.

She mixes in a lot of English when she speaks Danish but to adults it quickly becomes part of her charm. She finally started being articulate about the languages herself and says with a laugh when we are out in Copenhagen: Mommy, they speak like us! On the way to a friend's house for a Christmas party, she asked what language they spoke to make sure she would be okay. They speak Danish, I reassured her and she was happy. She knows what she understands and what she doesn't understand. Yet, I really hope she will be able to play with more Danish kids to improve her bilingualism: So far her dolls all speak English and her stories that she read to them are in English. Tomorrow she is seeing her cousin who is only one year older than her. Let's hope she can teach the dolls some Danish.

Dancing in Swedish

Zoe has always loved dancing. Her first steps were moves to music and I remember her laugh as I did a few pirouettes in the kitchen when she was still a baby. She soon tried to imitate them. We dance together in the living room and it is no surprise that she loves it, because so did I. I told my mom I wanted to be a ballet dancer when I was 4. I took classes throughout my childhood, classic ballet, jazz, modern and then back to a few seasons' of classic as an adult. In fact, last time I took a course was when I was pregnant, proudly still jumping in week 27. I couldn't wait until she was two so I could take her to dance class. Last year we went every Sunday to a studio in Gamla Stan where a nice Romanian girl would make sure we all (because parents were dancing with the kids) were having a fun time with hola hoops, drums and most importantly moving our bodies to music. I followed Zoe's lead and quietly told her what the teacher said she should do. She picked most of it up herself through watching.

But the teacher left and I felt it was time to try another studio. I was looking around too late and several studios were already full. But one, which was on the same subway line, had a kids-dance class, one where the kids danced by themselves, with the parents on the side if needed. The season started last Sunday and Zoe and I went excitedly with great expectations, this time Zoe wearing her actual ballet dress and slippers that we had bought in New York.

Zoe trying her ballet outfit in the Capezzio
flagship store in New York

Zoe is a bit shy and I sat down with her at first, noticing that I was the only parent in the ring. The other parents were on the side, encouraging their little outgoing ones to stay and listen to the teacher. Who started talking. Fast and a lot. She was asking the kids questions. Explaining that they had to hold up their hand when their name was called. Asking what they thought their horse was called. Asking if it was a shark, a crocodile or a fish that was swimming in the water. In between there was some running around and jumping, but not much dancing. And a lot of questions that Zoe and even I had a hard time understanding. Zoe clung on to me and kept asking me to come dance, which I eventually did for most of the hour but not without being slightly annoyed that she couldn't do it on her own, as the only kid in the room. But I also know that she was extremely intimidated by the new situation and she kept asking me "mom, what is she saying, what is she saying?" I honestly didn't realize that Zoe knew so little Swedish but on the other hand I wasn't surprised. Her whole world is in English apart from my house and when we go to Denmark. She juggles two languages pretty well and is just now starting to understand the concept of different languages (although she often names them wrong). But Swedish is not one of them.

In the end I asked the teacher if we could switch to the earlier class where the kids dance with the adults. I probably offended her in the same breath by letting her know that, well there was a lot of talk in the class. Unfortunately it is the same teacher in the earlier class and I have to see how Zoe is dealing with it, or if we have to think of something completely different. Because while Swedish might be an option, dancing is not.

Quadrilingual

Zoe started her new daycare yesterday. It is a private daycare where I had to charm my way in but it is 5 minutes away from where I live (and where Zoe's dad lives) which will turn our previous hellish commutes into a leisurely stroll. The concept of the daycare is that it is trilingual, English, Swedish and French. Zoe is in the English group of small children under two and a half which makes her one of the oldest. Her obsession with babies (any little person that is younger than her or uses a pacifier) makes this a good situation right now. The daycare's strategy is that each teacher uses one language with the children so even though the common activities are in English, there are teachers who speaks in Swedish and French with the children during more individual activities. More structured language practicing takes place once or twice per week where the children have specific activities in Swedish and French. So now Zoe is being introduced to a fourth language. Why not?

Here in Sweden so-called "in-schooling" can take up to two weeks where the parents spend the first two days with the child in the daycare and the child is picked up early all the way until the last day. I have no idea how working parents do this here, perhaps they have family around who can help, but I was not thinking this was a good idea for Zoe. She is already familiar with the idea of daycare, she likes it, and would be confused if I stayed there with her for long hours. After talking to the head teacher I was then allowed to do a speedy in-schooling. This was the right choice. Zoe impressed the teachers and even me the first day by being completely comfortable there, eating a good lunch, using the potty and playing calmly with all the new toys. When I came to pick her up yesterday after lunch, just before her midday nap she lay down on a mattress: "No mummy, Zoe sleep here! No sleep klapvogn [stroller]". I promised that she could nap back at home in my bed and she reluctantly followed me. This morning she went directly to the table with the play-dough and after a brief chat to her teacher (a really sweet woman who teaches english and art) I told her I was leaving and she kissed me goodbye. I am so proud of her and think she will be just fine with a fourth language. Oh and the new daycare.

A polite baby

With Zoe having three language around her, she is a bit behind in actually talking. I was aware that was often the case with bi/trilingual children but then I had also read that this is a myth: Children differ widely when it comes to language development and the presence of more than one language is not always affecting it. However, when I'm around children close to Zoe in age, I am realizing that she is indeed quite behind. Other children already talks in sentences and use a wide vocabulary where Zoe mainly says one word at a time and adds her own babbling. Her pronunciation is quite bad, she says 'tom' instead of 'come' although when I ask her what it is called, she will correct herself. One upside is that she is extremely good in understanding what is being said to her, not only does she listen attentively but she has continuously surprised me with how she understands complex issues. For example she remembers if I promise her something after a specific activity and she has a large (understanding) vocabulary of things and directions (i.e. "Zoe can you get the purple pillow that is under the desk in your room?" means that she will run in and get the purple pillow that I had ended up storing alongside a blanket under the desk in her room).

Most recently though the one thing I have noticed is how modeling works. I have never told Zoe to say thank you, please or anything of that kind. Yet, she has picked up the most hilarious politeness in many daily situations. The first one I noticed was one she must have learned in daycare. At first I was puzzled by her saying "happy-peas" repeatedly. She seemed to say it if she couldn't open a door or open a box by herself. Then I listened and realized that she says "help me please", skipping the l's. The second politeness is simply saying thanks when ever she is handed something. It was not until I realized that  we tend to do that when she hands us something that I understood how she picked it up. But it is very nice to hear her say it, particularly when she is given something by others. And I have never even asked her to say thank you in these cases. Finally, a politeness she has picked up the last few days is to say "no thanks" when she refuses something. It is often hilarious to listen to and it is impossible to argue with a kid who says, in the most mild tone, "no thanks" when you offer her a healthy snack.

Interestingly though, and this is where the three languages and the polite baby are not always smoothly interacting, she will mix the languages even within one sentence. For example since she can't say 'thanks' yet, she uses the Danish and Swedish 'tak'. "No tak" and "mor, happy peas!" are common expressions. She is picking up the fact that there are different languages that is used with different people though and consistency is paying off. If I repeat what she said (in English) to me in Danish, she switches smoothly. Mark tells me the same thing happens when he is in charge but since he doesn't speak Danish, he has to guess more often than not what she actually means. This results in extreme miscommunication such as her telling him she wants to go out with the stroller and him thinking she wants to eat lunch. Perhaps that will be a motivation for her to start talking more clearly very soon.

Calming down

Things are calming down after the conference trip that I looked forward to and dreaded at the same time. Zoe of course did amazing at my mom's place for a week and we celebrated her (belated) birthday at a brunch party when I got to Copenhagen. The flight home was a breeze and Zoe is now such professional traveler that she takes off her coat when she sees the security line and waits patiently for me to be padded down and turning around before going through the metal detector. Did I say she is two? She continuously surprises me with how much she understands especially because her spoken language is still rather garbled and it is a hit or miss if I understand what she says. Today she had a rant at Mark who dared to ask her if she wanted to go for a walk with him, a rant that none of us understood any words of but one where the meaning was crystal clear (and hilariously funny). We both had to bite our tongues not to laugh at her "ba de hu bachi jubu NO da da", all said in a very loud, serious tone. She is a kid with stark opinions about things, that's for sure.

After coming home last Sunday I have tried to catch up having a normal life, taking Zoe to daycare and going to work. It is nice having a normal everyday life again but of course it is only for a short time, next week I am going to Berlin for 4 days for a review meeting. Zoe is staying home with Mark and this will be the first several nights she is alone with him. I am confident they will have fun but I will miss her terribly. So much for calming down. At least we should be used to it by now.

Learning to speak two languages

Zoe is so far just bilingual. I speak Danish to her and her dad speaks English to her; she seems to understand both equally well. She attends an English speaking daycare so she is only exposed to Swedish when she interacts with our occasional babysitter and the few Swedish friends we have here. Obviously we will have to make sure she learns Swedish at one point but so far this has worked out well. Since Mark speaks neither Danish, nor Swedish, English is also our home language so I reckon Zoe hears approximately 80 percent English and 20 percent Danish in her everyday life. She now has a speaking vocabulary of around 10-20 words depending on how you count.

One of the things I am most proud of is that her 6th word was "bog", Danish for book. She even says it more clear than any of her other words. Her previous ones were simply mama, dada, baba, aye and no. Not that these are easy to decipher, mama means both mom, mommy's milk and food. Baba means baby but also anything childlike such as dolls, strollers she sees on the street (okay, which probably have a baba in them) and herself. But more specifically, her first words were non-language specific (except for no, which is only English). Even the word for more, "mere" in Danish was some mix, sounding more like "mar". But as she is getting better and picking up more words, very likely in daycare, it is clear that her understanding of language is that we ourselves decide what to call something and that there is no problem in that. She knows that I call it "øre", "næse", "mund", but when I ask her to say it, she says ear, nose, mouth (well more like eaaa, nos and mau). She observes that we use words specific to us, and which she understands, so she simply selects the words she wants to use. It is the meaning that is important, not the actual word.

Like any toddler she says hilarious things, particularly if you ask her mother. My favorite is her utterly surprising exclamation "oh no!" whenever something goes slightly wrong. And things go wrong all the time in her world. She drops a piece of cucumber on the floor (oh no!), she finds a damaged tile on the staircase up to our apartment (oh no!) or she can't find her doll before bedtime ("Zoe, where is your doll?" Oh no!). In fact I have the suspicion that it also means "I don't know" in specific situations. Of all the peculiarities she says, this is the one I hope she keeps the longest because it has such cheer childish innocence to it.

Okay, and then finally, I'm not proud that her 7th word was "mør", smør, which is butter in Danish. She loves her bread with butter in the morning and when I look away she runs her finger through the butter and eats it straight up. If I ask her why there are holes in the butter she looks puzzled at me with her big blue eyes and throws out her arms: Oh no!