Opera is a multilingual art!

Foreward: This post was originally written in February 2010; circumstances are two years old while the learning has no expiration date.

I attended a conference at the Italian Cultural Institute in Paris, featuring Italian Maestro Evelino Pidò, one of the main contemprary orchestra conductors, and rising star French soprano Natalie Dessay (currently producing 'La Sonnanmbula' by Bellini at the Paris Opera House). They discussed the role that opera played in forging a cultural unity for Italy, before the official political one was proclaimed 151 years ago.

The discussion was fascinating, but one facet that emerged and that I would like to share is the intrinsic international (and multilingual) dimension of contemporary opera productions: artists, musicians, music directors and artistic directors for each representation come from a plethora of different countries, each with their cultural baggage and experience; they are all bilingual or trilingual professionals. Music, and their passion for it, indeed, provides the common language needed to achieve the necessary alchemy and reach a common goal and final product: the show. Yet ,operas are sang in a handful of languages: Italian, German, Russian, French being the dominant ones. Hence, the artists multilingual skills  (tenors, sopranos, and the like) are almost a necessity and certainly an advantage, to reproduce  perfectly the original sounds. It has often occurred to me to praise the perfect diction in Italian of Asian or Eastern European opera singers: it is certainly a result of hard work and extreme professionalism, but also that extra gear that multilingual individuals can count on!

National identity: sometimes all you need is good negotiations skills!

As you might recall from several earlier posts, one of the main questions I had at the begining of this multilingual journey was: who will my kids will cheer for at the Olympic games?! Which national identity will they choose? As a monolingual by birth, born and raised in one place, I had a hard time to project their vision of things, having their young lives already split between three countries. However, it did not take long to have a cristal clear vision of the situation: both Milo and Zeno have been spelling out that they feel French.
They cheer for France at international sports games, they always choose the French flag, when traveling they are proud to showcase their (supposed) nationality They have assimilated a total identification with their daily environment.  A few nights back we had again this conversation:

Milo: " Mum, I'm French, right?

Me: "You are not, my dear: you are half Italian and half Belgian!"

Milo: "Bullocks! I was born here!"

Me: "Yes, but from foreign parents. The law in France is different and you will be able to request the French nationality when you'll be 18, if you wish so.. for the moment it simply mean that you don't have a French passport."

Milo: "Yes I do!"

Me: "No, darling...you have exactly the same rights as any other French kid, but technically you are not French. You are...European!"
Milo: " Pffff...n'importe quoi!"
Zeno: " But....we ARE Parisians, right?!"

Zeno found a compromise and managed to snatch the Parisian badge for himself! That's so him!
He's also the one that, during a fantastic summer vacation on the Italian Alps, on a glorious, sunny afternoon, let himself fall backward on a heep of grass and whispered: "Aaah....I wish I was born here!"

Next on MTK: how the Belgianite and I are applying for an international school which has both the Italian and the Dutch sections and if accepted, we'll need to throw a coin!

2 years later...

Hello multilingual blogosphere...I can hardly believe two years have gone by since my last blog post...we are alla alive and well, still in Paris and more quadrilingual then ever. I missed this place: I missed keeping track of my life and of my kids' linguistic development. I kept on observing, but, I guess, life took over and missed the time and energy to record it. I want to come back, I will try my best! I have to tell you all about Milo and Zeno communicating mostly in French with one another, but handling perfectly well Italian and Dutch when we go see family back home; how they begun spontaneosuly uttering sentences in English during a summer holiday in Crete; how I still don't speak Dutch and kinda don't feel like ever learning it; how Milo learnt to read and write in French and I felt so bad for him because it is a damn hard language to learn in elementary school; how he seems to be mathematically giftend and really lazy with reading, while Zeno, who's still in kindergarden, just learnt how to read by himself, Italian and French; how they want me to tell them the good night story in Italian, and no other language is allowed before night time;  how we had a little cousin in the meantime and the boys are all gaga about him; how the Belgianite and I got engaged in the meantime (insert as many question marks as needed here); etc.etc.etc. I have my share of blog posts to work on in the next few weeks, as you can see. Stay tuned, I won't deceive you .

The amazing wonders of built-in meta-grammatical awareness

I try to read books daily to my kids, and in a perfect world,  I should read only in Italian to them. The reality is that, when I come home after a long day at work, tired and famished, and they ask me to read one of the many French books they love from their library, I just read it in French: my brain, on certain evenings, refuses any collaboration, and if I try to simultanously translate in Italian, I sound like a foreigner! The kids don't mind it, but while Zeno keeps interrupting me with 1000 questions about the story (that is, focusing on the content of the story), Milo cannott help correcting the occasional pronunciation mistake I make (a nasal vowel, a missed liaison...).
Tonight , though, he went a step further and he simply blew me away! I was trying to read the following sentence:
"Ils entrent dans la salle..." which means they enter the room; while the final 's' is normally not pronounced in French words, in this case it needs to be pronounced because it provides a liaison which helps the listener capting the plural nature of the verb.

So I stumbled a few times around the sentence: "Il rentr...ils rentr...il rentre?" and Milo shed the light for me:
"Si dice Ils rentr, mamma: se fosse stato uno solo avresti dovuto dire il rentr, ma siccome sono due..." (You read it ils rentr, mama; if it was just one person you would have read it il rentr, but since it's two persons here...).

The kid is still in kindergarden (he will turn 6 soon, and start primary school in September), and while they work a lot at school, grammar is definitely not on the program yet!
How could he come up with such a logical and grammatically oriented explanation for something he knows only by ear, in theory?
I'm stille in awe!

If you're in Paris , go DULALA!

I had posted previously about a brilliant association here in Paris organizing language playgroups for multilingual families: it was called the Association des Familles Multilingues. It recently changed name, website and enlarged its scope: it's now called D'Une Langue A L'Autre (DULALA), if you are based in Paris or simply French-spoken, take a look at their sleek website! I recently joined their Research Committee and it's great fun to interact with the founder, Anna Stevanato, a fellow Italian woman who's a linguist and specialised on bilingualism, as well as the other members.

It's exciting to see how much has changed here in Paris in the last 5 years, that is ever since I started wondering about multilingualism: not only parents have now access to a plethora of information on the web as well as associations such as the Cafe Bilingue and DULALA, but the general media is also finally recognizing the changing demographics of France's capital and are investigating on the matter. If you understand French, listen to this (very French indeed!) podcast from Europe1, one the top French news radios, entitled: "Je veux que mon enfant soit bilingue!"

An Easter kind of Carnival...

It's almost Easter, but before you dash out painting eggs with your kids and hiding chocolates for them in the garden, take the time to sit down and browse through a whole range of great blogs, and discover what's new in their multilingual venture! Welcome to the March/April 2010 issue of the Blogging Carnival on Bilingualism, initiated by Letizia, founder of Bilingual for Fun, and hosted every month by a different blog on multilingualism.

It's my first time hosting it and I truly enjoyed discovering new blogs I wasn't aware of, but especially realizing the variety of motivations and circumstances that committed all these families to a multilingual journey!

For instance, Sarah at Home Educate in Italy this month writes about the [inevitable] necessity to correct our children when they make mistakes in the minority language, and how this might hurt their sensitivity and  inhibit them to keep speaking the language. Find out how she overcame this by finding creating ways to get the message across without damaging her child' confidence: a great lesson in multilingual as well as emphatic parenting....

Smashedpea over at Intrepidly Bilingual tells us about a rather common phenomenon among young bilinguals:  her youngest child mixes a lot between English, the dominant environmental language, and German, her native language, currently being learnt also by her not-for-long monolingual husband.

Lauren at HoboMama is raising her child bilingual in English and German, while not being a native German speaker. This month she unveils her plan to be more consistent in her own learning of German, in order to summon up the courage to speak German with natives!

Jan at BabelKid considers how her daughter seems more comfortable counting in English (the environmental/school language) rather than his native German.

And German is once again the language of honor at Mummy Do That, where Steffi lists her favourite German children books.

Eve at Blogging on Bilingualism analizes the benefits and pitfalls of dual citizenship, for herself and for her children. In her case, the French/American citizenships opens up wider options for her kids' higher education.

And Sarah of Bringing Up Baby Bilingual profiles a fascinating Trinidanian English spoken family, where the mum has self taught French, and has chosen to raise their 2 year old child bilingual English/French.

Which leads to my post here below on what do we consider as a maternal language when we are raised bilingual, and how does that define our identity.

Here we have it once again: different families, in different countries, with different projects, all sharing the need or the desire to raise their kids in one or more languages. Each Carnival gives me more confidence that our children's generation will be, by sheer numbers, equipped with more tolerant leaders, more apt at dealing with the issues of the world!

Should you wish to receive updates or to host the future Carnivals, you can sign up here.
Happy Easter everyone! May the hunt begin!

Who you really are: a post about national, linguistic and cultural identity for multilinguals.

This post is meant as an entry for the Blogging Carnival on Bilingualism which I will be hosting on April 2nd.
Come back in a few days to check it out!



When our sons were born, we found ourselves having to deal with a complex linguistic situation, being both parents native speakers of different languages (Italian and Dutch), living in a third country (France) and communicating in a fourth language (English). After some research, we opted for the OPOL method, and, 6 years later, we can honestly say it has worked well for us. Although the Belgianite and I are both multilingual, it was natural for us to decide to use our respective native language with the kids.

However, what happens when the parents are bilingual from birth?

Consider Elena, a bilingual native Italian/French speaker: she is married to another bilingual native Spanish/English speaker. The couple resides in the UK. Their 6 months old daughter has all the chances of growing up quadri-lingual. Elena has opted for speaking Italian in the mornings and French in the afternoons, yet she wonders if it is going to really work.

I attended recently a conference of the Café Bilingue here in Paris, where Ranka Bijeljac-Babic, a CNRS researcher, specialized on bilingualism, shared some of the latest research projects on bilingual kids (I am writing a separate post on this conference). Several bilingual parents like Elena asked the same type of question: did they really have to choose one of their native languages? It is easy to relate and understand their resistance to this notion of having to choose. They grew up with 2 languages, each expresses a strong aspect of their personality and is linked to a cultural patrimony that these parents desire passing on. To choose between one or another is like asking them to get rid of one of their arms or legs!

However, specialists seem to be wary of one parent carelessly addressing the child in 2 (ore more) languages during the first 3 years, that is in the delicate phase when the language structure is building itself. The advantage of OPOL is that the child has a clear and well defined identification to a specific parent for each language. This schema provides the necessary linguistic boundaries so that each language can build itself consistently, progressively and separately.

But a careless OPTL (One Parent, Two Languages – note, I am making this up!) can be potentially harmful and lead to all sorts of problematic situations.
The fact that you are bilingual, Elena, is a richness, and you have all the due motivation (and right!) to pass on your cultural heritage, and to stay true to yourself. Moreover, since you probably speak French and Italian (and obviosuly English) on a daily basis, your child has already "heard" you while she was in uterus: research shows that 7 months into the pregnanacy the auditory system of the foetus is complete, hence your baby has grown accustomed to hear you speaking these different languages.

However, since your child is also confronted to 2 additional languages (Spanish from your husband and English from the environment), you have to consider the child and the potential difficulties she might have in dealing with such a complex linguistic arrangements. For bilingual/multilingual children, language acquisition is indeed more complex. The baby has to differentiate the languages (s)he hears, avoid interferences and learn that language is arbitrary.

Here in France pediatricians and speech therapists would strongly recommend you give up one of your 2 native languages. They have an expression I have heard several times, which I find irritating: "faire le deuil d'une de ses langues maternelles," that is, literally, mourning one of your mother tongues. I personally find this unnatural. I think your project is doable, but you need a well defined family language strategy, and loads of motivation, perseverance and patience. Think of the child: try to make things flow. You could, for instance, intensify the presence of other Italian and French speakers in your daughter’ routine. Ideally, you should find a care giver (a nanny, baby sitter) who would speak one of your 2 languages only, let’s say French, and you would only speak Italian. At least until the age of 3.

Alternatively, you can look into language play groups; on top of the different timings devoted to the 2 languages (Italian in the morning, French in the afternoon), you could also link each language to specific moments/activities/places: the bath, the playground, etc.

Finally, don’t be afraid to explain to your child from early on that you speak 2 languages, and why; to tell her your story, to show her on the map these 2 countries. Do not underestimate the meta-linguistic awareness of [multilingual] children!

I find Elena fascinating because she represents a preview of my children’s adulthood: when (if!) they will become parents themselves, they will be confronted with the same issue: will they want to speak Italian, Dutch or French to their kids? Unless their future partner will be a native speaker of any of these three, inevitably some of these languages (and a facet of their personality?) will be lost…

But even before getting to their future parenting issues, I have often wondered and written about their national, linguistic and cultural identity. And, alongside, dwelled on the notion of mother tongue: in Elena’s or my children’ case, we are obliged to use the term ‘mother tongues’:

"Mother tongue: the language a human being learns from birth.” [Language, by Leonard Bloomfield]

“Mother Tongue: the language that the speaker speaks best. In either case, a person's first language is a basis for sociolinguistic identity.” [The native speaker: myth and reality, by Alan Davie])

I have heard people claim: your mother tongue is the one you feel at ease counting in! Plausible: my mother tongue is Italian, I grew up monolingual and learnt languages as an adult. When it comes down to complex calculations (and mind, counting the rest from the baker for me qualifies as a complex calculation!), indeed, I have to resort to Italian. I still manage to do simple operations in English, but God forbid in French! On the other hand, I seem to have a hard time giving out my (French) phone number in English and Italian. But when I have to type in the pin code for my (French) credit card, it's definitely in Italian that I mentally recite the digits.

However, Milo (6) and Zeno (3 and ½) can both count easily in French, Italian and Dutch, so will the same ‘rule’ apply to them? Probably not. What language does Elena resort to for counting? I’d like to know!

“Your mother tongue language is the one you dream in!” I’ve also heard. Milo is a sleep talker and I have heard him on more than one occasion dreaming in French or Italian. Which makes sense!

Nav recently left in a previous post an intriguing related question: “Which language do you think on, when you are not conversing?” I started paying attention to my inner discussions, and I realized that the language varied with the environment or situation. At home it’s mostly Italian. On the way from school to work in the morning it’s French. But at work, or on the way home at night, it’s mostly in English. Basically, it depends upon the language I have been using actively moments earlier. Since I speak these three languages daily in both my personal and professional environment, I happen to think in all three as well.

There is another mother tongue indicator which is pretty infallible: anger! When I am truly upset, words pour out of me in Italian! Milo and Zeno as well, when they fight, it’s in Italian. Will it stay that way over time?

All in all, we, multilinguals and parents of multilingual children, "have to stop thinking that something more complex is necessarily less efficient," as a VP of a top French corporation recently oddly stated. With the rapidly changing demographics of our children' generation, so will change the way we define items like mother tongue and national identity.

If you can read this, you're just...normal!

"I cdnuolt blveiee  taht I cluod aulaclty uesdnatnrd waht I was rdanieg. The phaonmneal pweor of the hmuan mnid! Aoccdrnig to rscheearch at Cmabrigde Uinervtisy, it deosn't mttaer in waht oredr the
ltteers in a wrod are, the olny iprmoatnt tihng is taht the first and last ltteer be in the rghit pclae. The rset can be a  taotl mses and you can still raed it wouthit a porbelm. This is bcuseae the huamn mnid deos not raed ervey lteter by istlef, but the wrod as a wlohe. Amzanig, huh?!"

I wonder if it works in every language! Any volunteers to draft a paragraph like this in any other language?!Please email them at: multitonguekids@yahoo.com

My new Dutch tutor!

It was bath time ("bagnetto time") last weekend, and, out of the blue, Milo addressed me in Dutch:
"Brrr...mijn pijama is koud! Waarom heb je het niet op de radiator gelegd, mama?"
It was one of those shivering moments, when you realize something eventful is taking place but you are not quite sure what exactly,  nor why! I kept my cool, I looked behind my shoulder to check if, by any chance, he was addressing anyone else, but no: it was just me and him in the room! I had somewhat understood what he had said: the pajama was cold, why didn't I put it on the radiator, as I usually do in the winter months?
Bemused, I quickly tried to come up with an answer in Dutch, but simply did not have the words.
So I replied in Italian:
"Non lo so, tesoro, me ne sono dimenticata..." (I don't know, I forgot about it - I know, pretty damn dull!)
Milo insisted: "Volgende keer, vergeet het niet, alsjeblieft!" (next time don't forget, please!)
The little dude was obviosly in provocaton mode: the honey-combed voice confirmed my suspicions!
 I took a deep breath and tried my very best guttural sounds:
"Waarom spreche Nederlands met mama, kleine sloeber?!" (Why are you speaking Dutch to me, little rascal?)
"Ik weet het niet...dat is zo!" (I don't know..I feel like it)
"Si, ma se poi io non ti capisco?! Come la mettiamo?!" (What if I don't understand you?)
"Ik zal het je leren!" (Don't worry: I will teach you!)

And right there I felt my heart sqeezing with joy, pride, surprise, it was an unbelieveble milestone of (multilingual) parenting that I will never forget! I should have just hugged Milo right there and savor the moment, I should have known better that silence is gold, sometimes...

...instead, I had to add:
"Vuoi davvero che impari l'Olandese, eh?" (You really want me to learn Dutch, don't you?)
To which he replied , angel-like, still in Dutch:
"Papa heeft Italiaans geleerd!" (Papa has learnt Italian!)

That's when I made a mental note to never, ever forget to warm up his pajama again!

The Italian brothers...

Zeno: "Mamma, mi canti 'L'Italia Tedesca' ?"
Me: "Cosa? Che canzone è?"
Milo: " Vuole dire la canzone dei Fratelli dell'Italia..."
Me: "Ah, Fratelli d'Italia...l'Italia s'è DES-TA, non tedesca!"
Zeno: "L'Italia sedesca!"
Milo (singing): "Frateeeeelliiii d'IIIIItaaaaaliaaaaa..."
Me & Zeno: "...l'Itaaaaliaaaaa s'è deeeestaaaaa...."

The dialogue above concerns the Italian national anthem, which I have sang to my children since they were babys on and off, on various occasions.  I learnt the national anthem as an adult, as it is not sang in schools, but rather at football games in stadiums (which, by the way, I never attended!). But since I moved abroad , to the US first and to France next, I became sensistive to this artistic symbol of my country: I find it a beautyful song (despite an occasional recurring debate in Italy concerning the need to swap it with some aria by Verdi or Puccini), and its choppy-rythm version has served several times as a perfect diversion from a tantrum or a difficult situation with my 2 little princes! Moral of the story, they learnt it too, over time,  and they enjoy it just like any other song, although, due to it's aulic Italian (it was written in 1846 by Goffredo Mameli) they don't understand all the lyrics and I always get the odd question ("Chi è Scipio? Perchè Roma aveva una schiava? Chi era la Schiava? Perchè sono pronti a morire?"). I think on some level they think the song is about them, since it talks about Italian brothers! They feel concerned!
While the identification with the French culture and its symbolysm has inevitably begun (Milo's drawings of boats and airplains always showcase a French flag), my two boys also identify strongly with their Italian side. A few weeks ago Zeno was watching a DVD cartoon in French, and after a while he asked me to switch it to Italian, "...perché noi siamo Italiani!"
Also, last weekend in Milan upon landing at the airport, he marveled at the fact that everyone spoke Italian! ("Mamma, ma parlano tutti Italiano qui!").
They are very aware of their Belgian identity as well, we have both flags in their room, they can spot Italy and Belgium on the map,  and they know that they are italo-belgian, but the Belgianite being less fanatic of anthems and symbols, the most Belgian behaviour they have assimilated so far is the addiction to quality chocolate!
I wrote recently on the public debate on National Identity that has taken (dangerously as well as corageously) place in France in the last few months, and one of the measures that came out of this debate is to make mandatory the regular singing of the French national anthem ('La Marseillese') in public schools. So, I guess that's the next song they will learn.
I still have a hard time, though, projecting the way they will feel once grown up, in terms of national identity. Will the amount of time we will have spent in France be a key factor? Will this early identification with Italy  provide a strong root? Will they have the TCK syndrome, at ease everywhere and nowhere at the same time?
I guess, for the time being, the best I can do is teach them also the European anthem, the beautiful 'Ode to joy' (Beehtoven's 9th Synphony) . I'll choose the Latin lyrics, though!

It's Carnival time!

Check out the multilingual blogging carnival, a monthly get-together for all interested in bilingualism and in raising bilingual children and an opportunity to share experiences, info and best practices.

Organized by Bilingual for Fun, this month the carnival is hosted by Jan at Babelkid. Enjoy!

Zeno and his gift for synthesis...

Milo and the Belgianite were having this lenghty conversation in Dutch about a kite-surfer who lost his kite during a lesson; they kept going back and forth and, at some point, I lost track of it and could not understand anymore.
Zeno was playing alongside with his Lego.
I snuck up to him and whispered:
"Zeno, cosa ha detto Milo?" (Whad did Milo say?)
and he replied:
"Ha detto kite-surf!" (He said kite-surf)

Juggling four languages daily (how to stay zen when a pink flamingo becomes a pink Flemish!)

We spent a couple of days on the Cote d' Azur last week, to escape the first winter blues and to take a little deserved break. I purposely focused on our family exchanges and listened carefully to my kids, to what they were saying and how they were saying it. And for the first time I could grasp the depth of the puzzled looks we often generate when communicating in public places: I have indeed noticed in parks, on trains, at restaurants, bystanders after a few minutes stare at us or raise the one eye-brow, after having tried to decode our linguistic arrangements. Some give up and keep their puzzled look until we leave. Some brave ones manage to ask the question: "How many languages do your kids speak?"

This has been inevitable ever since our boys have been around. I, as an Italian native, could not speak anything other than Italian to them. But today, five years later, I sometimes address them or reply to them in French. The Belgianite, man of the North, stuck to his native Nederlands (Dutch). But since he learnt Italian in the meantime, he often does not realize being addressed by the kids in Italian (and replying in Italian as well). And the two of us having met in English, we have kept speaking in English to each other, despite having settled in Paris, France.

A random restaurant conversation can go something like this:

Me to Zeno (IT): "Zeno, vuoi mangiare lo steack haché con le patatine?"
Zeno to me (IT): "Siiiii, tante fritjes!"
Milo to me (IT): “A me solo fritjes, niente carne"
Belgianite to Milo (NL): "Nen, heeft u teveel frietjes gegeten!"
Milo to Belgianite (NL): "Maar ik houd slechts van gebraden gerechten"
Me to Milo (IT): “Non vuoi mangiare del jambon, allora?”
Zeno to me (IT): “Ioooo, iooo il jambon! Anzi, salame! Io voglio il salame!”
Milo to Zeno (IT) "Ohhh Zeno, ma mangi sempre il salame tu!"
Zeno to Milo (IT): “Se vuoi ti do due patatine!"
Zeno to me (IT): “Mamma…mamma….”
Me to Zeno (IT): “Sssshhh, non gridare!”
Me to Belgianite (ENG): “What are you gonna have?
Zeno to me (IT): “Mammaaaa…MAMMAAA!!! Mi hai interromputo!”
Belgianite to Zeno (NL): “Hoorde u wat de mamma's zeiden? Gil niet!”
Me to Zeno (IT): “Si dice interrotto, amore; cosa c’é?”
Belgianite to me (ENG): “I'm hesitating between the fish soup and the aioli"
Milo to Belgianite (IT): “Fish...hai detto fish papa'?”
Belgianite to Milo (NL): “Ja, fish betekent vis”
Milo to Belgianite (NL): “Ah, ja, de vis! Leker vis!”
Me to waiter (FR): “On peut avovir de l'eau petillante, s'il vous plait?”
Zeno to me (FR/IT): “Moi j'ame l'eau petillante! Con le bollicine!”

The waiter in the meantime has started to make drawings on his note-pad and is getting a headache! As much as our family multilingualism has become a natural status for us, I am realizing for the first time how, in the eyes of the observer, we are simply crazy. And no matter how much eventually the kids showcase a perfect French (or Italian or Dutch) diction and competence, we often receive the odd remark: "Aren't they confused with all these languages?"

I have asked myself the question several times in the last five years. And despite being reassured by the studies and literature on multilingualism, which are slowly becoming available to the general public, I cannot help wondering sometimes if we aren't overdoing it. A very nice lady recently commented on the positive effects that such a mental gymnastic must have on the brain, in the long term. I surely hope so, while on most evenings, by the time I go to bed, I am myself lost in all these languages and sometimes, under stressful conditions, I do not find my words in any of them.

The boys, however, seem to be doing fine: they have perfectly integrated all these languages, which was essential for us. We are also lucky that in our complex arrangement, our countries of birth are neighbouring France, our country of choice. Hence, frequent trips to our native Italy and Belgium have certainly contributed to the successful development of our respective languages for Milo and Zeno. Their schooling in French public schools guarantees a solid command of their French, which to this day is impeccable.
Of course their output in Italian and Dutch is not 100% perfect: in Italian they often create odd versions of the past participle tense of irregular verbs (interromputo instead of 'interrotto,' prenduto instead of 'preso,' etc.), and they sometimes make literal translations from the French (“Ho visto un fiammingo rosa,” instead of ‘fenicottero’(pink flamingo), translating literally from the French flamant rose – but actually translating flamand=Flemish!). But they have a good vocabulary and a solid grammar structure (they conjugate the subjunctive form correctly at 3 and 5, while it’s not the case with most Italian adults!), and once corrected, they immediately integrate the proper word. In Dutch their vocabulary is certainly limited and they do make up a lot of words from the French and the Italian, a phenomenon which, however, inevitably phases out with each trip to Belgium.

But no, they are not confused: they know perfectly well who speaks these languages and with whom they can use them; they are even intrigued in learning new ones.

Prunes scientifically proved to be helpful in English learning

A qualitative study conducted this month in our household has proved that the regular consumption of dried prunes is beneficial to English learning.

The study was conducted on a sample of two male specimen aged 3 and 5, regularly exposed to passive oral English and fed with dried prunes.

The following conversation was witnessed earlier this week:


Zeno (savouring a bowl of dried prunes): "Mmmmh. Delicious!"
Me (eyeing the Belgianite in disbelief!): "...!!!!!"
Milo: "Ti piacciono le prugne, Zeno?" (do you like prunes?)
Zeno: "Si! Tantissimo!" (Yes, very much)
Milo: " Mamma, come si dice prugne in Inglese?" (Mum, how do you say prunes in English?)
Me: "Si dice prunes"
Milo: "Zeno, devi dire prunes is delicious!"
Zeno: "Prunes is delicious!"
Me: "Braaaavi!"
Milo: "Good!"

For details on the miracolous prunes' specific brand, please email: multitonguekids@yahoo.com

English pops up...

We lit some candles on Halloween night, and we were peacefully observing their flickering lights in the dark after dinner, when Milo whispered sweetly:
"That's so cute!"
Literally. In English! This has been happening more and more frequently: from the "What's up, dude-mamma?" thrown in at the oddest times (thank you Carlo B. for teaching my kids!), to the occasional "Come on!", Milo  surprises us with a willingness to express himself which we found very moving (Zeno then repeats it out of emulation of his beloved big brother, but to his advantage since he's 2 years ahead of time!).
From time to time he misses the  shot (I asked the Belgianite if he could pass me a spoon and Milo asked me: "Is that a sponge?" since 'sponge' in Italian is 'spugna'!), but for the most part he gets what we are talking about and he's taking more and more action!

Therefore I updated  again our Family Language Diagram, which is getting more and more cluttered by the month:

The debate online

For those of you francophones interested in the subject, here's the official website of the
French Debate on National Identity.

National Identity debate

French Immigration minister Eric Besson has declared on Sunday that he will re-launch a nation-wide debate for the next couple of months on national identity. He wants to re-assess and re-define 'what does it mean today to be French, what are the values that unify the French people, what is the nature of the link which makes them French and that they should be proud of.' (Good luck!).
The theme of national identity was a pillar of  Nicolas Sarkozy' electoral campaign, and keeps on re-emerging throughout his mandate. Immigration has profoundly affected the French society in the last 40 years. In 2003, after having doubled in 8 years, France has seen 256 600 'regular entries' and 82 000 political asylum request. This is without taking into considerations children, illigal immigrants, second and third generation immigrants. The French national institute of statistics INSEE estimated that 4.9 million foreign-born immigrants live in France in 2006 (8% of the country's population). The number of French citizens with foreign origins is generally thought to be around 6.7 million, according to the 1999 Census conducted by INSEE, which ultimately represents one tenth of the country's population. (Ranked by the largest national groups, above 60,000 persons).


 

Mouvements of this amplitude unfortunately at some point translate into fragmentation and ghettisation of the population, of these new citizens, a substantial majority of which often arrive in desperate conditions from far and empoverished countries. That is why the government sees at risk its national unity and keeps re-launching the debate on national identity.

As an Italian native residing in France now for 8 years, I am often amused by the different approaches of these two countries to the issue of immigration. For instance, France embraces and professes laicism, while tolerating the observance of religions privatly. But you can be sure that you will never see any religious symbol in a French public school. A huge mediatic debate took place in 2008 when the European Court supported the French justice for having suspended in 1999 two muslim students from their public school, who had refused to remove their foulard at school. The very same Eric Besson is currently expressing strong views against the burqa in public, claiming its wearing is antithetic to the essence of French values.

Meanwhile, in Italy, the national birth rate is barely 0.8% and any population growthis entirely due to immigration (negative natural balance of -7 000 individuals in 2007), and in the classrooms we hardly have any Italian students, but a plethora of Roumanians, Albanians,  Marocans,  Chinese, Ukrainian, Filipino, Polish, Indian (source: Caritas/Migrantes, Immigrazione Dossier Statistico 2008); the gouvernment is currently having violent and animated discussions following a proposal (supported even by the Vatican) by the Vice Minister of Economic Development to introduce an hour of Islam teaching in the Italian public schools, where the teaching of "Religion," that is the history of the Catholic religion, has been the norm. The distance of these two particular examples doesn't stop to puzzle me. And yet, what ensures a proper integration? Where do we set the limits exactly to the right to observe one's faith or to live his/her own traditions democratically and the respect toward the local customs/values like laicism in France? To what extend do we need laws and to what extent do we need to reform our civic education?

One of the initiatives that the French ministry of immigration insists on, is the requirement of a certian level of fluency in French for immigrants upon entering the country, and the organization of free courses for new arrivals. I think that is is a fair requirement; language is an essential tool for integration and for human interaction and allowing the new-comers to better understand and better express themselves is definitely a step forward toward a successful integration. Yet, to get back to the original theme of this post, do immigrants need to adhere to the national identity definition as well? Is it necessary for them to feel French? Is it even possible? As long as I will live here, I will always feel Italian. Even though I pay my taxes in France, I abide by the French laws, I embrace the local lifestyle, customs and traditions (I looooove champagne! And oysters!), I respect and recognize the French authorithies, I cannot possibly feel French! I ask this question to every multi-lingual/expatriate/international profile I encounter: what do you feel, in terms of nationality? And more often the not, the answer reflects the place where we have spent a substantial part of our youth, regardless of the mother-tongue or the nationality of the parents.

As immigration evolves, as third culture kids increase, as the new generation of multilingual and multinationals spans borders and melts the pots, does it still make sense to talk about national identity? When foreign-borns in a country like France will reach 50%, will it still make sense? Will it still be needed?

And regardless of immigration, if we consider just the geographic vastity of a country like France and its richness in regional climates, cultures and customs, can we still talk about national identity? Because the way someone from Marseille might feel French is quite different form the definition you would get from a resident of Neuilly-Sur-Seine (the chic suburb of Paris) or a Breton, for instance. Let us not forget that regional dialects were suppressed (unfortunately) shortly after the French Revolution. Abbé Grégoire is  notorious for writing his "Report on the necessity and means to annihilate the patois and to universalise the use of the French language," which he presented on June 4, 1794 to the National Convention. According to his own findings, a vast majority of people in France spoke one of 33 dialects patois and he argued that French had to be imposed on the population and all other dialects eradicated. Suddenly, not only Occitan, but also Catalan, Basque, Breton, and several other ancient languages were discouraged and actively suppressed. School pupils were punished well within living memory for speaking their native language on school premises. Regional identities were sacrified for the benefit of an alleged national one...but did it ever exist?

I already wrote about national identity here, and I also wrote a brief article for the (*sigh!*) last issue of Multilingual Living, which should be issued soon (will post when it will be out and about). The debate in France promises to be a...colorful one! Stay tuned for further reporting...

PS: Eric Besson has evoked the possibility to have the young French students sing the French national anthom at some occasion thoughout the school year, as a way to restore national pride and belonging.
I'm working on a post on the role of national anthoms today for multicultural communities. See the new poll  on the right-hand side and feel free to take part!

The "r" issue

Milo is now 5 and a half and his pronunciation in Italian is flawless, except for the "r." From the very beginning, he has had a hard time rolling it properly. He adopted different strategies in different phases: when he begun speaking, he would skip it (saying fommaggio instad of 'formaggio,' for instance). Then, for a brief period, he would pronounce it the French way; but that did not last long. He has now developed a way of pronouncing it softly, without rolling it. He'd say: "Ghiazie, mamma!" instead of grazie.
In technical linguistic terms, this is called the approximant labiodental i.e. a consonant represented by the symbol [ʋ] in the international phonetic alphabet (IPA). The phenomenon is apparently widespread among monolingual Italian kids, and is usually left unaddressed until the kid reaches the age of 7-8. After that, a few sessions with a logopedist (i.e. speech therapist) can rectify the situation, if needed.

This summer my dad tried stubbornly to train the kids:

Grandpa: "Prova a ripetere....quattro!" (try to repeat: four)
Milo: "Quattio!"
Grandpa: "RRRRoma!"
Milo: "IIIIoma!"
Grandpa: "Carote! Carrrrote!
Milo: "Caiote!"
Zeno: "A me non mi piacciono le caiote!" (Me I don't like carrots)
Grandpa: "Si dice: A me non piacciono" (you should say: 'I don't like carrots')
Zeno: "Si, ma a me non mi piacciono le caiote!" (yes but I still don't like them)
Grandpa: "Concentratevi bene, ragazzi: crosta! Crrrrosta!" (concentrate! Crust!)
Milo: "Chiosta!"
Zeno: "Cos'e la chiosta?" (what is crust?)

...and so on. Milo became rather self-counscious and frustrated, eventually we summoned my dad to leave him alone but, despite my several efforts to reassure him, he remains aware.

Last night Milo asked me to spell for him the word inverno (winter), as he wanted to writer it over a drawing he had made.

Then I heard him say: "IN-VE-NNO! Eh gia', non riesco a dirla tanto bene la"r"...pero' la so scrivere benissimo, vero mamma?" (I can't pronounce the "r" very well, but I can write it just fine, right mum?!)

It's never too early to become multilingual!

My friend Martina left me an interesting question in the comments to my previous post:

"We are a one-language family (Italian) but we would like our 1 y.o. son to learn English asap. What do you suggest? Letting him settle his Italian first (he already says around 20 words and he understands a lot) and then start him in an english Kindergarden at 3 y.o or start sooner? Some have told us to start not too soon to avoid him getting confused..."


As many experts often have written, there is no unique, failure-free recepee to grow our children multilingual. Each family has to find a strategy that works more or less painlessly for them, and stick to it! Determination and motivation are certainly fundamental ingredients when we decide to embrace a bilingual lifestyle.


One thing that I would like to stress for Martina , is that it is neve too early to start! On the contrary, research has shown that the first three years of life are the most fertile ones for children to learn multiple languages at once. Tracey Takuhama-Espinosa in her book "Raising Multilingual Children," describes 3 windows of opportunities, the first one being between 0 and 9 months, and second one between 1 and 6 years of age, during which languages are learnt with an ease that is progressively lost, and with the capability to reproduce sounds like natives (while, at a later stage, we develop accents). Infants exposed to multiple languages regularly do not get confused: if it is part of their environment, they just develop simultaneously the proper linguistic codes to reproduce the languages they hear.


So, Martina, if you wish your son to grow bilingual, you need to find a proper vehicle to introduce English in your son's life: whether it is a bilingual day-care, or an English mother-tongue baby-sitter who spends time with him regularly and addresses him exclusively in English. You can then complement this activities with play-groups with other English speaking children, or by playing little songs in English at home, or, later on with little trips to the UK. But regular interaction with an English speaker is the key for your son to start assimilating the sounds, the grammar structure and the vocabulary of another language.


Unfortunaltey it is rare to find pediatricians or other child-care professionals who are properly informed on multilingualism, in mono-cultural countries like Italy or France, for the matter. However, you will not let them discourage you with your project; there are a numbers of books on bilingualism and resources available on the internet (check out the Multilingual Help Desk on the right-hand side bar). But remember: you need to find what works for you!

Almost-quadrilingual family check up!

This year I haven't mananged to blog much, real life with its inevitable intense course just took over, yet so much happened linguistically in our family.

The main developement is that at age 3, Zeno is an official 'speaker:' he makes full sentences in Italian, French or Dutch, depending upon the need; he does not mix anymore, nor screams! He finally feels he can express himself, and he feels listened to and understood.

Milo and Zeno's development of their 3 main languages has been constant and solid. Incidentally, their personality shifts a little with each language too, which is something very peculiar to witness. They tend to be softer in Italian, and a little rougher in French, the language of play and school mates. Milo also has a new trilingual Dutch- speaking class mate (Dutch dad, American mum), and we are excited at this new opportunity of interaction, to further strenghten his Dutch vocabulary.

Milo has increasingly been paying attention to the English exchanges of us, parents, and has been delighting himself in detecting the meaning of words and expressions, sometimes by asking directly ("Mamma, cosa vuol dire "It's ready!" ?), some times just by using his own deducing skills and by replying to me in English at the oddest moments "Thank you, mamma!"). American friends visiting us have increased his curiosity and need to grasp the language in order to express himself. I still feel reluctant to introduce a formal training in English; I have been thinking about play groups , or watching DVDs together more consistently. But, honestly, I have my time filled just by handling the Italian, the French and the Dutch and making sure the kids learn the same vocabulary in all three languages harmoniously...for the moment their English learning activities it's just their daily passive exposure to my conversations with the Belgianite, an occasional conversation, a book read first in Italian then in English, etc.

Another language has been tickling the fancy of my two mini-polyglots: Spanish. Ever since we took a trip to Valencia last year to visit some friends, they have been very curious. We have DVDs, CDs with songs, books and we know a few Spanish speakers: one of Milo's classmates Mum, one of our baby-sitters, a neighbour, etc. Milo often asks me how do we say this and that in Spanish and loooooves singing some songs (the current favourite is dancing hit 'Cada vez que te veo"!)

Zeno is still very much in emulation of his brother and benefits of much of his curiosity. His French last year has developed flawlessly; he occasionally makes up words with the Italian or Dutch roots when he does not know the equivalent in French, but in general his mixing habit have progressively melted away. And frequent trips to Italy and Belgium have helped tons. He has definitely a musical ear: when he hears music, even at a distance, he's captured and feels an irresistible need to dance and move. This, I am convinced, is another ingredient for success in multilingualism; he differs from Milo in this who has built his personal multilingualism on priviledged individual attention. Zeno lacked at least 50% of the time we spent reading and talking alone to Milo, but his musical hear supplied for that.

He started kindergarden this year, he's in the same school as Milo and I am often moved when I pick them up in the evening and they tell me : "We have seen each other at the cafeteria today and we said CIAO CIAO to each other!" Surprisingly, their main language of interaction is still Italian, although I assume this year French will rapidly take over, and Dutch is also used when playing with Dad .

As for my Dutch learning, I am slowly getting there, a word at a time! Despite my doubts in a previous post and the impressive results of the poll on the right hand side bar, where 84% of you advised I should learn Dutch formally, I never took a course (so far!). "I just don't have the time," seems to be the most plausible excuse! But...I am listenting. Just as my kids are listening to English every day, I am listening to Dutch, and I am understanding more and more each day!
Sometimes, when I am alone with the boys, I try out on them a little sentence in Dutch...at first Milo would look at me bewildered and would ask me shortly to just speak Italian! Now they are growing more tolerant of us crossing boundaries (The Belgianite speaking Italian, me speaking French or Dutch) and they just limit themelves to correct my (pitiful) pronunciation. The last time I was even congratulated: "Not bad mum!" (I was talking about balletjes, some meatballs they love to eat in Belgium).

I always thought that our little crazy family one day would settle naturally on one lingua franca...maybe Italian, on really good days...maybe French, on more realistic ones...or English, if I felt particularly daring! I am now witnessing a gradual softening of the OPOL practice and am starting to feel that, perhaps, our 4 languages are such an essence of our nucleus, that they will all be used by all members at some point, and I must admit: I like this scenario. It's who we are, it's how we are. That we might be able to express a certain feeling or opinion in a certain language because we think it captures its essence, and we might be understood bt the other members of the family, is a huge luxury and freedom.