by: Sam Lefalher White

Planting the Language Seed

I was born in Paris, to an American mother and a French father. Soon afterward my mother and I moved to the midwestern United States, where English became, of course, my predominant language of immersion for many years.



From the very beginning my mother persisted in speaking to me both in English and, to my chagrin and frustration, in French. When my father and I fell out of touch, my mother doubled her efforts. As anyone who understands the dynamics of raising a bilingual child knows, this, for a single parent, was no small feat. And I, for my part, didn’t make her job any easier.

As I grew into my later single­ digits and my English evolved and matured, it was annoying to me that my mother continued speaking to me in French. My English was clearly better than what few French phrases I knew; it was more complete and articulate. It was infuriating to me, then, when she switched to a language that made it more difficult for me to communicate. English was the frontrunner, miles and miles ahead of French in the language race of my childhood. Why didn’t she just abandon her efforts and speak only English to me? Why struggle against the current? Why did she persist?

Years later I took a year of French in high school. It was easier for me than for anyone else in the class and I sped through the curriculum. Then I took some French at university and had a similar experience. Pronunciations and vocabulary came to me faster, and stayed with me effortlessly. The grammar of the language then made more sense, because I wasn’t bogged down by it’s fundamental and aesthetic qualities. When I studied abroad in Belgium, French flooded into and out of me at a rate I hadn’t thought possible. Native speakers were impressed with my accent, even as my grasp of the language itself was improving.

It took me many years to appreciate that by insisting I hear French from a young age, my mother had endowed me with a subtle, yet powerful gift: a readiness for, and love of languages. This love extended far beyond French and English. Eventually I chose to study Arabic, a vast departure, linguistically speaking, from either of the other languages I knew. And yet, the same principles apply to learning any language, so I felt more equipped than many of my peers, more adaptable to the throes of new, unvocalized sounds and wildly different grammatical structures. While I certainly can’t say that learning Arabic was easy or simple, I can say that I felt naturally prepared for the task. Something in me had been made ready, and I suspect I know by whom.

My mother understood the importance of multilingualism. She knew, after years of studying languages, traveling and living abroad, and embarking on a career of language study and acquisition in higher education, that introducing her child to a second language early would give him a leg up in the world. She knew that even if she couldn’t raise me to be truly bilingual—if she could just plant the seed of linguistic diversity, then it might later grow. She knew that if she exposed me to another language but didn’t force me to speak it, than I would be able to make the choice myself. She knew—as I believe and always will—that it’s never too late to learn a new language, but you might as well get started now.

At Smart Coos we believe there’s no time like the present. Visit SmartCoos.com today for more information on raising your child to be multilingual. And check out our blog for more accounts, stories and advice from multilingual families in the Smart Coos community. 

Because bright futures begin now.