A Work in Progress

For various reasons I try my best to forget my time at school. There are certainly moments that I think of fondly, but those were few and far between, and often had less to do with education and more to do with the few lasting friendships I made during my time chuntering through the British education system. If I remember anything at all, it’s a flashback instigated by some moment in the present, a long dormant vision of my past self, usually doing something achingly embarrassing. One such memory is a regular fixture in my life now that I live in Germany. Whenever I screw up in German, make some daft error or stumble over an Umlaut, my brain automatically replays the same moment in the late 90s when, with the indignant anger and misguided passion that only teenagers seem to be able to muster, I stood up in my German class and frustratingly bellowed at the teacher “Why do we even need to learn German!? It’s not like I’m going to live in Germany!”.

When I think about my outburst, I feel the urge to invent time travel, go back to that moment of supreme naivety, and slap the taste out of the mouth of my former self. If only I’d been more open minded, with a little dedication, I might have moved to Germany with at least a solid grasp of the fundamentals of German. Instead, I moved with some night classes under my belt, and a couple of phrases I’d memorised. Like a lot of people who come here, I arrived with essentially zero German language skills, which while inadvisable, is perfectly possible. Everything I’ve learned has been hard won, and although my German is a constant work in progress, it’s far in advance of where I started.

Although I’ve improved, even beyond what I thought would be possible, I’m always nervous about using German. I speak the language as a foreigner, not as a native, and the awareness of this fact is what often makes me reluctant to communicate in it. This isn’t only a personal critique, it's a lived experience. Germany has taught me that Germans, even the most open minded Germans, hate communicating in anything other than perfect German. Make a mistake, use the wrong verb ending, trip over the dative, use the wrong gender, and many Germans will pull a very particular face that suggests they’ve suddenly smelt something revolting. At this point, they usually switch to English.

Having a German switch languages used to be a blessing, I considered it a helping hand, a friendly gesture of sorts. Now I tend to see it as an insult, especially when I’m speaking with a group of native speakers. It feels like a way of singling me out, pulling me forcibly from a group conversation and placing me outside of the discussion. When someone does this, the German conversation usually continues without me, and after abruptly having to speak English with one of the group, I struggle to get back into the German chatter. Moreover, I doubt Germans who do this actually realise how hard it can be to communicate in two languages at once. Perhaps Germans are more adept at this particular skill, but many people find switching languages incredibly difficult.

I don’t think Germans do this maliciously, but rather out of ignorance, but occasionally it’s done out of a sense of hubris. Many Germans can speak a good level of English, especially younger generations, and I don’t for one second want to speak ill of those who have learned a language and can use it proficiently. What I would say, is that native speakers can generally tell when someone is speaking a language because they can, and when they are doing it to show off. A lot of times people speak to me in English not to be helpful, but to show me or others around them that they can speak a different language with a native speaker. This performative communication usually lasts as long as it takes for the person to feel like they’ve made their point to me or the group, and then we switch back to German. As impressive as it is, it does tend to make me feel like a piece of exercise equipment, only there so people can get a couple of English reps in before continuing with their day.

In fairness to Germans, some of the harshest critics of non-native German are non-native German speakers themselves. I’ve certainly found that British people who speak excellent German can be very supportive, in a slightly condescending way, but they can also be hyper critical. There seems to be a perception that if you don’t speak German well, you’re lazy. Although I agree that learning any language requires motivation and commitment, many native English speakers I know, who speak impeccable German, also took German at school to at least GCSE level, if not higher. This is the foundation which I regret passing over two decades ago. This perception of poor speakers of German as poor students, happy to glide through life in Germany with subpar language skills, forcing everything towards English, does tend to miss the nuances of learning a language in adulthood.

Criticism of someone's level of German, from native and non-native speakers alike, also impacts one of the key elements of communication: confidence. I teach English, and have done for over a decade. One of the key parts of teaching others a different language is giving learners the confidence to communicate, but also to make mistakes. Sometimes the best lesson is making an error, and recognising what that error was, and how to avoid making it again in the future. Yet, when criticism falls heavily on a speaker, when someone laughs at a mispronunciation, or acts angrily because someone doesn't communicate in an expected way, it hits the confidence of the speaker first and foremost. Enough hits and speakers tend to stop speaking, avoiding situations that damage their egos, but also avoiding invaluable practice.

For my own part, I seek out interactions in German, any and all opportunities are welcome, but usually I pick my situations carefully. Speaking with colleagues can be a mixed bag, and since we teach English, it would seem odd if we only spoke in German. I tend to speak more German with employees in the canteen than I do with the people I work with, since they’re far more accepting of errors and enjoy teaching me funny words and phrases in different dialects. It builds confidence, reminds me that I’m not really as bad as I think, but also that there are Germans out there who can handle imperfect German, who understand the difficulties and on the whole are patient and helpful.

Ultimately, this approach makes speaking German enjoyable, which surely should be part of the process of learning a language. It shouldn’t be punishing, a relentless slog of disappointed faces, dissatisfied that people don’t speak perfect German as standard. When I argue about integration, the movable concept that many people demand of migrants, it is this mindset shift I think many in Germany need to consider. Being a native speaker doesn’t make you more intelligent than a non-native, it means you have the ability to help others improve, even just a little. Most of us are willing to do the work, but in a lot of cases it would be nice to be met halfway.

Proofreader: @ScandiTina

Image Credit

Photo by Aaron Burden on Unsplash

Photo by Bewakoof.com Official on Unsplash

Photo by Gaelle Marcel on Unsplash

Photo by Tolu Olubode on Unsplash

Photo by Javier Santos Guzmán on Unsplash