My Childhood Language Was Shaped By Other Kids
(the blossoming of my linguistic world, plus useful advice for adults and parents)
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I’ll admit it: I spent years on a single read-through of “The Language Instinct” by psychologist and linguist Steven Pinker.
It’s not a bad book, nor is it an especially long one. There’s just a lot packed inside, surprisingly dense for a pop linguistics book.
Imagine my shock when I discovered that my favorite insight from Pinker — one that feels so stunningly obvious that it makes my head spin — was buried in an FAQ section at the very back of the book.
Shockingly Simple
The exchange in the FAQ goes like this:
Q: My spouse speaks a language other than English (or We're spending a year in a foreign country). Is there anything I can do to encourage my children to retain their second language as they grow up?
A: Children care more about their peers than about their parents, so send them to summer camps, after-school programs, or vacations with their cousins, where they will have to use the language with kids their own age.
When I read this, I was almost taken aback.
It’s mind-numbingly clear, this simple advice that kids just want to hang out with other kids. And yet in all my classes about language acquisition, my research about heritage language maintenance, and impassioned discussions on multilingualism, I had never put my finger precisely on this piercingly obvious truth.
As I reflected on Pinker’s response, I realized that my childhood relationships played a crucial role in the acquisition of my own heritage language, Mandarin, in a way that I had never deeply considered before.
My Linguistic World
First, some context is necessary. It would be entirely unfair to discount the primary source for my language learning: my mother, whose first language is Mandarin, and who diligently planted and watered the seeds for my language acquisition.
(I did get grumpy about speaking Mandarin as a teen — what teen wouldn’t? — but thankfully came to my senses once I reached adulthood.)
I also had the incredible benefit of a linguistically rich environment. I grew up regularly attending a Chinese church, with an English-speaking congregation and a Chinese-speaking one. Since my mom was heavily involved on the Chinese side (and my dad on the other), I was well-connected with both language communities.
What’s more, my church hosted their own weekend Chinese school, which I attended for a few years, until I complained so much that I became a Chinese School Dropout™ at age 9. (I did gain basic literacy skills, though, which later evolved into real literacy skills during college.)
Finally — and perhaps most importantly — for as many summers as we could manage, my mom would accompany me back to Taiwan to spend time with extended family. For a month or two out of the year, Mandarin was inescapable, swirling all around me, becoming an increasingly natural part of my mind and my life.
This context shows that the odds were really in my favor for me to acquire Mandarin. My mom’s efforts, my surrounding community, and my visits back to Taiwan all helped immensely, fostering an environment for the language to flow easily in and around me.
But what’s something that’s incredibly important in the life of a kid?
Other kids.
The Kids Arrive
For me, these Mandarin-speaking kids came in the form of my three cousins, who immigrated from Taiwan to my hometown in the US when I was 10 years old.
Clocking in at ages 8, 10, and 11, and having lived in Taiwan their entire lives thus far, their English skills were understandably limited. So for the first two to three years that they lived in the US, we giggled and gabbed almost exclusively in Mandarin.
I spent a lot of time playing with those goobers. We wrote our own plays. Choreographed dances to Donny Osmond covers. Designed and built unnecessarily complex haunted houses, with the hopes of scaring each other to the point of tears. (A few times, we actually did.)
Perhaps our finest collective work was an elaborate museum that stood proudly in the corner of the living room for years, filled with handmade artwork and interactive exhibits.
We also consumed content in Mandarin together, the most memorable of which was civic-duty-themed bootleg Doraemon tapes. I didn’t always understand every word, but my cousins were there to explain what I couldn’t catch.
As my cousins’ English proficiency blossomed, English started entering the picture too. I recall reading Calvin and Hobbes comics aloud to a rapt audience, and getting us collectively hooked on the lyrical wonders of High School Musical. (We’d use stuffed animals to act out the various roles, singing along as the music played.)
But looking back now, it’s really quite striking. For some of my most formative years as a kid, my closest playmates spoke Mandarin, and only Mandarin.
For The Adults
If you’re a parent hoping to pass on a heritage language to your child, Pinker’s observation, plus my own history, makes one thing clear.
Despite all the multilingual resources available for use, whether it’s books, dubbed movies, or YouTube channels, kids can grow exponentially through their connections with other kids.
The surprising catalyst for languaging — and the key that will get kids listening attentively, decoding actively, and diligently producing output of their own — is an engaged linguistic community of peers.
If you’re more interested in language learning as an adult, and not necessarily passing one on to a child, community is still something to consider.
For a learner whose ultimate goal is communication in the target language, it may be crucial to seek out relationships and spaces in which that language can be used. Or better yet, where that language has to be used, so that you have nothing else to fall back on.
(It’s worth clarifying, though that not everyone has the aim of learning a language for communicative purposes. If you’re learning Latin to increase your understanding of medical terminology, for example, there isn’t a huge need to seek out Latin speakers to chat with, although I personally think that’d be really cool.)
This is certainly easier said than done. It’s likely that as an adult — with all the anxieties, stressors, and time constraints of life — you won’t feel that same eagerness that a kid might have to connect with a new playmate. And this is totally understandable.
But forming meaningful relationships with peers who speak the language that you want to learn or maintain will be unquestionably fruitful. And as your relationships grow over time, you might find your sense of safety growing as well — giving you the space to test out new phrases, make mistakes, and speak without inhibitions.
Thanks for Reading!
Of course, relationships shift and change. Interestingly, I speak almost exclusively in English with those three cousins now, unless we’re code-switching, or are interacting with family members who primarily speak Mandarin.
Regardless, Chinese is still a huge part of our lives today as adults. And I’m grateful for the gift of relationship — and the language that came along with it — that those three unknowingly gave me as a kid.
If you found this article helpful or enjoyable, please consider sharing it with a friend, like a parent who’s hoping to pass on their heritage language to their child. And if you’ve read this far and haven’t subscribed yet, why not do so now? I send out newsletters every other week about language and our rich linguistic world.
Finally, I would love to hear about what your linguistic world was like as a child. What role did relationships play in your language learning? Did you connect with any of my own experiences? I would love to hear from you in the comments below.
Until next time,
Rebecca
This was a great post. I heard Dutch as a kid, as my paternal grandparents immigrated to the US in the early 20th century as well as my maternal grandfather. My father spoke Dutch with his parents, my mom understood some, and I had many American cousins, aunts and uncles that spoke, read, and wrote Dutch. I wish I would have learned it! There is a Dutch Psalm that all of my extended family knows, and singing in 4 part harmony, a cappella, is a beautiful thing. Being fluent in more than 1 language is enriching and expansive and can strengthen family ties and continue family history. The images and story of your museum is priceless!
I'm re-reading The Language Instinct right now for about the fourth time. It really is a densely packed book and an enthralling read for a language nut. One of the things I wonder is how much of it has been overtaken or expanded on by research since it was written 30-odd years ago. I wonder if you have a view about that, Rebecca?