What the world needs is more multilinguists
By Solveig Rose-Mollard
Translated by Colin Rae
Today, around one-third of all children in Germany have a migrant background. So it’s really no surprise that more and more people are growing up speaking more than one language. In the latter half of the 20th century, there were preconceptions that multilingualism would lead to lower IQs and linguistic confusion. Both science and society have since largely quashed these notions and now there is little doubt as to the benefits: Growing up in a multilingual environment is said to imbue children with an intuitive grasp of language – which makes it easier for them to learn yet more languages – as well as a well developed understanding of how language functions. What’s more, they often possess outstanding cognitive abilities that they can apply in other areas, such mathematics or technical disciplines. And then there’s the fact that being fluent in more than one language tends to count in your favour when applying for jobs.
More or less multilingual
A much more contentious issue is what multilingual actually means. Academics are split as to how to measure fluency and when this reaches native-speaker level. (To make matters worse, the terms “native speaker” and “mother tongue” are a thorn in many people’s side, but that’s a topic for another time.) A basic distinction is made between people who acquire two languages simultaneously and those who learn them consecutively. The first group are children who grow up in a bilingual environment from day one, for example because their parents hail from different linguistic regions. Members of the other group are at least three years old before they start learning their second language, when they begin to divide their time between their monolingual household and a bilingual or entirely foreign-language crèche or play school. It’s generally the case that children up to the age of seven can acquire native-speaker fluency in another or several other languages. In this respect, the expectations of educators are far less onerous than those held by the community of language professionals: For the former, being bilingual simply means “being able to spontaneously and successfully use a second language when the situation requires”. This definition leaves plenty of room for varying degrees of language proficiency. As a professional interpreter, however, for the industry to recognise one of my languages as what it terms an “A language”, I must be able to speak it without error or accent, while demonstrating an extensive vocabulary and considerable flexibility.
So much more than the sum of its parts
Leaving flawless language skills aside for a second, learning a language in a plurilingual context is, in most cases, only the visible and audible tip of the iceberg. After all, there’s so much more to language than just vocabulary and grammar. A language is a means of transmitting culture and attitudes to life, and it can even change the way we think.
It lets parents of different nationalities furnish their children not only with the languages of their respective homelands, but automatically also with the knowledge of how to use it: languages differ as to how fast or slow they are spoken, whether it’s okay to interrupt and overlap in conversation, and when to throw in a well-measured pause. While one language’s idea of being polite (and this is coming from a German perspective) is to ignore the elephant in the room, another’s may be to talk turkey. It’s easy to see why misunderstandings and disagreements are common between people of different nationalities, even if both have a good command of their shared foreign language (usually English). One group might not realise that what they perceive as hints are actually direct requests, and the other can’t fathom why they are being addressed in what they consider such a rude tone of voice.
But children benefit from a connection to their parent’s countries of origin because it allows them to learn both countries’ customs, traditions, and life lessons. It might be religion, family celebrations, table manners, or everyday behaviour: even countries that seem to be culturally similar demonstrate a host of minor and major differences that speakers of the local languages are themselves rarely aware of. This leads at best to mutual interest, often to mutual condescension (those people are crazy), and at worst to prejudice and hostility. But children who are born into a multilingual – and thus multicultural – environment are aware of these more or less different worlds and tend to be more open to and tolerant of other people’s lifestyles.
Given the choice, I choose multilingualism
Now I’m in no way trying to take the problems that people who speak multiple languages might encounter and sweep them under the rug. It’s true that children who grow up speaking more than one language sometimes have trouble keeping their native languages apart, or never quite achieve native-speaker fluency in any language. Then there’s the fact that some people with plurilingual and multicultural backgrounds don’t feel that they fully belong to any linguistic and cultural community and thus struggle with their identity.
But it’s also true that multilingualism offers vast potential, not only for us as individuals but also on a collective level. In a society in which multiple languages and cultures no longer simply cohabit but rather commingle within the same individual, there’s a chance that its members will possess a greater openness and understanding for others. Given what’s currently unfolding in political conflicts in the public sphere, and what frequently occurs in private day-to-day encounters, it seems that the world is in desperate need of a greater sensitivity for cultural differences. And when young people can attain this quality (almost) effortlessly from day one, then so much the better!