I’m officially done with Roving and my Fulbright. It’s been an amazing year. We’ll be in Norway (and traveling Europe) until the end of July and then we transition back to living in the US again. Even though I’m done Roving, I still have more to share about the experience and so I will return to blogging about what I’ve learned during my time in Norway.
Friday Jack and Lucy officially finished their Norwegian school years. They had a week of summer school—offered free by Oslo schools—after their final week at school. Jack did 3D design and Lucy did music, song, and drama. We went to watch her performance, watching as she sang, acted and danced in Norwegian. It made me think about language acquisition and my experience of not knowing language this year.
When I chose this Fulbright, one of the reasons was that I wanted my kids to learn another language. I wanted them to go to public school in the country we lived in and experience what it was like to learn that language. Norway’s school system has programs for Norwegian language learners that incorporate language learning into school in a way that my children are quite fluent in Norwenglish. Watching Lucy and her friends deftly move through languages—Norwegian, English, Serbian, Albanian—confirms for me how important it is for children to be exposed to, and learn multiple languages.
I’m leaving Norway with minimal Norwegian. I can read and understand more than I can speak. I know if they’re asking if I want a bag (en pose) or a receipt (kvittering). I know most foods (especially those I like or want to stay away from) and when doors are opening and closing on transportation. I can say, “tusen takk,” “ha det,” “jeg snakker ikke Norske,” and a handful of other phrases. But, my job was to speak English and most people I interacted with in Norway were quite fluent in English and were willing to speak it, so I was able to survive with no real problems.
But, I also spent a great deal of time not understanding anything at all. I would be in the teachers’ lounge and there would be discussion and I would just sit as people laughed or responded, not knowing what was being said. Sometimes a teacher would translate for me. Sometimes they wouldn’t have the time. I would be on a plane or a train and an announcement was made and I had no idea what was going on. I had to look around and follow along, or find someone to ask.
It’s been an interesting year, not really knowing a language. When I first got here I wanted to respond to everything in Spanish, the language I studied in high school. But now when we travel I start responding in Norwegian with “nei” or “ja” or “takk.” I feel more at home when I hear Norwegian than when we’re in another European country and it’s not being spoken.
I have found there are some things I really enjoy. Not knowing a language means it’s easier for me to block things out. I have found it easier to write in public this year because I don’t need to block out what’s being said around me. And, in general I have found things quieter. Not because people in Norway are quieter—I still can’t get over how many people talk on their phones in public—but because I’m not dealing with conversations all around me that are distracting me from my own thoughts. I am now bothered when people speak in English because then I can understand it and it distracts me. It will be quite the change when we move back to the U.S..
I have learned to pay more attention to non-verbal cues, body language, context, things that can help me figure out what is being said—or at least some of what is being said—as I interact with people.
I have learned that translation loses a lot. The more Norwegian I can read, the more I notice at museums that often what is being written in English is more of a summary than the details of the original text. And, that sometimes the translation isn’t completely accurate.
I have learned that there are times it’s good not to know the language. On a particularly “bumpy” landing when I was flying with Widerø, the pilot said in English, “we’re going to have a bit of turbulence.” He said a number of things in Norwegian as the plane moved up and down and side to side at the same time with passengers flying out of their seats like a rollercoaster ride, the older woman next to me laughing the whole time. When I told my hosts about my adventure they said that I probably didn’t want to know what was being said in Norwegian. They were probably saying things like, “we’re going to lay this fucker down” and other colorful Norwegian phrases.
A year without language has made me even more cognizant of how difficult it is to learn a new language, especially as an adult. I was constantly in awe of the oral English fluency of the Norwegians I met, especially the teenagers. Even if they didn’t want to speak English with me, they comprehended what I was saying. Between the teaching of English in schools at a young age and the way that American culture has flooded other cultures, Norwegian young people are able to switch between multiple languages with ease.
The English-Only Movement in the United States has always frightened me. The desire to make everyone conform in order to survive is unfeasible; it pushes for a conformity that takes away from culture and restricts knowledge and information transfer based on denying access because of language. We know that being able to speak multiple languages gives individuals advantages in both public and private sector work. So, why attempt to stop non-native English speakers from the fluency of their language, especially when we have so many people attempting to learn those languages in order to help them in their personal or professional lives?
It is as though we learn nothing from history. The most popular workshop I presented this year was on DACA and DREAMers. I started the workshop with a bit of history of immigration in the United States, including our Americanization Movement and the ways in which immigrants were forced to lose their native languages. Today many people want to learn those languages in order to either talk with their grandparents or other relatives or as a way to connect to their ancestry. I grew up in Minnesota, where many people took classes to learn Norwegian and Swedish as a way to connect to their past. Yet, we continue to attempt to restrict these languages, arguing that we are assisting non-native speakers by forcing them to learn English.
But, the research doesn’t support these arguments. Stanford researchers found two-language instruction more beneficial to English learners. And, I saw this with the two-language instruction with my own children. My son is always analyzing. It took him a while to get into learning Norwegian, arguing, “I needed to learn how to learn another language before I could learn Norwegian.” He was able to do this with instruction in both English and Norwegian and the skills to learn how to learn language.
Everywhere I have traveled in Europe, most people are able to speak multiple languages. Some are more fluent than others, but they can communicate in varied ways. Why do we choose not to value this in the United States? I believe we can learn from how Norway approaches language learning. By starting one language, in their case English, at an early age, students are often fluent in two languages and able to learn a third by the time they reach upper secondary schools. We are getting better at this in the United States. So far 33 states, Illinois included, offer the Seal of Biliteracy for schools who have students that are proficient in two or more languages by the time they graduate from high school, but we could do more. With more dual-language instruction in schools and classes, young people will gain knowledge and skills that will aid them in the future and make our society more universal. Spending a year as a language outsider showed me just how important multiple language acquisition is for everyone, regardless of where we live.