Pat yourself on the back!

As I was thinking about what to write (so many unfinished and overlapping thoughts in my head these days!), I read a couple of the older posts I wrote about my kids and their bilingualism. And it came to me...

I used to be so worried (and still am to a certain extent) about how to make being American part of their daily lives, not just the language but also the culture. Over the past week, I've realized how much English and being American has become and IS an integral part of who my children are and of their daily experiences.

I mentioned that I am going into Suzanne's class to do some "American" lessons. Since one of her teachers already does English lessons with them, I decided not to teach English but to do lessons on American culture (also since that's the only guidance I got from the teacher). Last week during the lesson on Thanksgiving, some of the kids remembered my Thanksgiving lesson from a couple years earlier. And when I took out the cranberries for them to taste, one of them even said, "oh c'est pas bon ça!" because she remembered tasting them. Suzanne continues to be unfazed by speaking English in front of her entire class and even wants to get up in front of the class with me to help. I actually had to translate what she was saying to me so her class would understand. The other day, after taking my kids to the Hanukkah party organized by the Lille synagogue (for another post), she said to me with great pride, "I"m French, English and a little Jewish.". American, not English...she still has trouble with the whole English language versus English person thing. 

Then on Saturday, Max's school had their annual Christmas party which starts with the kids all singing Christmas songs (so NOT politcally correct) and ends with the parents taking home some useless object made by their kid in class (this year I got a tree made out of cotton balls and a paper tube and a framed picture of Max). As the songs went on, the principal introduced a song by saying"initiation aux langues étrangères" and the kids started singing "Jingle Bells". I lit up. Why? Because that song is my legacy! When Suzanne was in her first year of school, I came into her class everyday for 2 weeks to teach them that song so they could sing it at the Christmas party. And the song lives on even though I didn't teach it. As I continued on my American high, while helping sell the baked goods, a mother asked me what I'd made...because she wanted to eat my cakes because they are so damn good. My American baked good are a staple of the weekly bakesale.

When I got home from the school party, I realized that this whole bilingual and bicultural thing is normal for my kids and for everyone around us. Yes, people are sometimes insensitive or uneducated about bilinguals and/or Americans, but mostly, people see it in a positive light and accept that this is how our family functions.

So please, bilingual parent, take a second to pat yourself on the back. You are doing a great job!

The fairy-mouse : a bicultural story

There is a note in the scrapbook that (I believe) is (still) in my old room at my parents' house in New Jersey. It says something like:  Dear Becca, Thank you for the lovely tooth. A little baby will love it. From, the Tooth Fairy.
It's a note my Mom wrote and saved when I lost my first tooth. I found the note along with a quarter (which was a lot in 1981!) in the heart shaped tooth pillow that was attached to my bedpost.

About 6 weeks ago at the breakfast table, Suzanne told me her tooth hurt. I touched it and it moved...and so did it's neighbor! J and I were both verklempt (see Dana Carvey in SNL). We haven't talked much about it, but the little we did talk about it went something like this : tooth fairy or petite souris. We decided to mix them up. It's not completely farfetched - If Peppa Pig's tooth fairy could be a pig, then why couldn't Suzanne's souris be a fairy and vice versa?

We both hold our cultural symbols and childhood symbols close to our hearts. Losing teeth and finding a coin under your pillow is a childhood rite of passage. The tooth fairy/souris is a minor and easily resolved issue which touches us both. But there will be other issues which are harder to resolve and which don't have a happy middle, where you can't just combine the two cultural symbols and come up with a reasonably acceptable hybrid.

But for the moment, Suzanne's teeth are literally hanging by a thread. They are just hanging out in her mouth, waiting to fall off into the sink or her glass of water or the toilet...

Suzanne fiercly believes that the fairy mouse will come and give her at least two coins for her tooth (maybe not such a bad idea to give her a French and an American coin so she can start saving for this summer's trip to the US?).  So, when the fairy mouse leaves a letter to a bilingual kid, what language is it in : French or English?

Mal du pays...again!

It's that time of year where the white noise becomes really loud. I feel oversensitive about anything slightly anti-American, oppressed by the French way of being, and just exhausted from all the extra efforts I make on a daily basis, no matter how small. Just like every fall, I am homesick.

It's no surprise that it happens this time of year. Not only is fall my favorite season, when I think of the colors, the smell of the leave and the sound they make under my feet. But it's a season packed with holidays: Rosh Hashanah, Yom Kippur, Halloween, Thansgiving, not to mention cross-country season (I ran in college so fall was a special season for me).
Last year, I was lucky enough to get back to NJ for Hallween which was a special treat for the kids. But this year, due to the price of tickets - with two kids paying for seats - and an especially busy October at work, it just isn't possible. Trust me, I looked. I even considered going for the 5 day weekend that I will have, but tickets were 900€! Long gone are the days when I could do a round trip for under 400€ including the train from Lille to Paris. Woe is me...

I have been especially agressive with my French half. Last week,  he told me that I was rude to the salesgirl in the British store. I explained that in "my" world, I acted completely normal. I said thanks, I said bye...I just didn't sugar coat it the way the French manners dictate. And since she was speaking English to me, I didn't need to think about how I acted.

Since I am now speaking English 80% of the time, as opposed to 100% of the time like I was doing a few years ago, I've gone back to my comfort zone without realizing it. And my comfort zone is American customs and habits. Because I speak so much English, my brain has tricked me into believing that I'm not in France anymore...

No matter how long I live abroad, the feeling of being a foreigner never quite goes away. And although it takes a couple days when I get "home", a very heavy weight seems to float away... I guess, like most expats, I'm destined to live with my butt in between two chairs as the French say (les fesses entre deux chaises).

This year, I've decided to undertake a Halloween experiment. My cousin, who lived in the UK for 20 years, told me that she used to prep her neighbors so her kids could go trick-or-treating. She's go to them beforehand, give them candy and tell them to give it to her kids when they came ringing. I've decided to take it a step further and try to organize trick-or-treating in my whole street. It won't be the same as last year with my best friend and his daughter. And it definitely won't be the same as going out with my sister when we were little. But, it will fill the void. A little...