Showing posts with label immigration. Show all posts
Showing posts with label immigration. Show all posts

Friday, 28 August 2015

26. Walls, language, resistance and adopting a new motherland

Chinese symbols for adopt, accept, naturalise
They don't speak our language! is one of the most common complaints when any European is arguing against immigration. Language becomes a wall between two equals, a way to shut the other out. "I'm in this country but I don't want it inside my head" might be the never-articulated thought of one of those immigrants. And thus showing a degree of resistance against the "adopted" motherland. From this point of view, it's probably a process of self-preservation, of not mutating too fast (or at all) and getting lost in adaptation.

In France, the language conflict is probably even deeper: the French criticise immigrants whilst the French themselves are also consciously or unconsciously resisting the imposition of English as the "universal language". So, I'll try to touch the two points of view with the hidden emotional significance they share as they touch our sense of self but also loyalty and betrayal.



video: RSA, Sudhir Hazareesingh on How the French think


Learning a new language 
Anyone that has ever taken a language course knows that language is not innocuous. It is not a tool that we use. It is a tool that by using it, it changes us too.

Grammar as the world interpreter
Grammar is not only the structure of the sentence, it is the structure of the thought itself, which then affects how you interpret the world. The article in the Guardian "Think your view world is fixed? Learn another language and you'll think differently" by Panos Athanasopoulus reports on a study conducted on English and German monolinguals and bilinguals. 
"We showed German-English bilinguals video clips of events with a motion in them, such as a woman walking towards a car or a man cycling towards the supermarket and then asked them to describe the scenes.
When judging risk, bilinguals also tend to make more rational, economic decisions in a second language.
When you give a scene like that to a monolingual German speaker they will tend to describe the action but also the goal of the action. So they would tend to say, “A woman walks towards her car,” or “A man cycles towards the supermarket.” English monolingual speakers would simply describe those scenes as “A woman is walking,” or “a man is cycling,” without mentioning the goal of the action.
The worldview assumed by German speakers is a holistic one – they tend to look at the event as a whole – whereas English speakers tend to zoom in on the event and focus only on the action."
The article explains that in English the Present Continuous exists whilst in German it doesn't, and somehow this may explain why the English speakers are happy describing an action in itself, whilst in German you feel you need a goal for the sentence to convey enough information.

But they also found that bilinguals who are given the test instructions in a second language "adopt" the perspective of that second language. So a German, performing the test in German would describe an action with its goal (eg A woman walks towards a car), but if he were performing the test in English, he would describe the action itself (A woman is walking). Participants were found also to change their opinions on how ambiguous some scenes were. So... we can wonder: Which of these different views we can have in different languages truly represents us? which one enables us to express ourselves? 

It makes me wonder how a language like Indonesian that -does not have future or past tenses, or that forms its plurals by repeating the same word twice- changes the way people think.

Hidden social codes
Beyond grammar, it is also easy to recognise that different languages come with different social codes. They are full of nuances regarding the choice of words, the formulation of an idea, the which words are emphasised, etc. We all know that when learning to write a complaint letter in English (British style), there is a specific structure. You are polite. You are not angry, but disappointed at most. In a German course, well... it is different. What Germans would describe as clear and to the point, British standards would qualify it as blunt. In the country where I can from, we wouldn't bother to write a letter. 

Beyond the course itself, when living in a foreign country these codes are almost as important as the language itself (I know it because I've lived in five different countries). You can get very frustrated if you don't learn the art of French confrontation even to discuss something utterly insignificant with a plumber. When trying to swim through the labyrinth of Italian bureaucracy, building a familial rapport with the civil servants gets you a long way -in fact this used to drive mad an american friend of mine that expected customer service american-way-. You also learn the multi-layered meaning of the word "interesting" in Great Britain, which is very commonly used to express disagreement subtly. 
It is not only through language but also through these codes that you "make things work". 
As a consequence, the emotional charge you put in certain transactions has to change when you are performing them in different countries. If you are very uncomfortable with confrontation, France might feel hostile. If you are uncomfortable with building a sense of familiarity with someone you don't know, Italy might feel difficult. If you are not perfectionist, Germany might feel too negative-focused.
There is a point, however, that you learn to see as a game you have to play, which has certain rules. But that requires you to disembarrass yourself of some of your own feelings and emotions which might bring a sense of loss and even betrayal. Normally the mother-tongue is the one that carries the most emotional weight, as behaving in a certain way is related to being accepted or rejected by your mother (your family, your clan)Even though maternal love is supposed to be unconditional, maternal rejection exists (even in nature) and we fear its potential toxicity. Allowing yourself to be confrontational -for example- when confrontation was frown upon by your mother (or culture), or ambitious, sometimes even being thin or fat... is an unconscious betrayal. You are running a significant emotional risk of being rejected by your own family and country and thus cutting that umbilical cord that connects you to your home and the possibility to come back. And here is where the sense of self is challenged. Do my emotions define me? Are they defending me, my sense of self? Are they defending my mother's and culture accepted version of me? Are these boundaries mine? Where do the boundaries of who I am are? 
All these questions are not easy to answer, and it takes time. Sometimes crossing too many of the internal boundaries too fast brings of sense of identity loss.

Beyond language: Conflicting narratives and codes

Let me start with the most obvious of the examples. For many years History books described the arrival of Colombus to America as the "Discovery of America". There are even academic discussions about who discovered America first. The Vikings! And we naturalised it. But of course America had people already who perfectly knew the land below their feet existed. The ones that added America to their cognitive map were the Europeans. It is an European subjective narrative. The native narrative would've been very different.
So what happens when we confront two or more narratives? 
Studies prove that pluralistic groups can detect lies better, confirmation-bias is reduced. Groups are more successful than individuals to find the "truth" (as opposed to a lie). However, confrontation of narratives sometimes forces a choice. The ban of face covering in public spaces (effectively banning the use of the burqa in public spaces) or of the use of religious symbols in schools in France generated clear conflicts between two social norms whose rejection/acceptance criteria contradict each other. Adhering to one of them implies betrayal of the other.

I'll go outside the world of immigration for a second, to bring the example of Argentina's stolen children documentary by RT. During the military dictatorship of 1976-1983, the Junta organized the kidnap, torture and execution of opposition militants, including pregnant women. The mothers were allowed to give birth (but were subsequently killed). These babies were placed in "right" families, many of them were families of members of the army. These children grew up not knowing their origin and many times were educated under the ideology that justified the killing of their biological parents. In the documentary these babies, now adults, tell the process they went through when discovering the truth. Some of them approached the truth by their own initiative, but some others by judicial searches. In the latter, they were asked to provide blood to run DNA tests. Even though they could understand that there was significant evidence to suggest they had been stolen, some of them refused to give blood. They were facing all these questions that affected their identity that had to be resolved in what it probably felt a split of a second. They knew too that it represented a betrayal towards the family they grew up with and there would not be a way back, even if some of them were directly responsible of their abduction. The sense of identity changes deeply in this sort of process.



A little less than 120 out of the estimated 500 were found. It is suspected that many of the missing ones are not coming forward for fear their adoptive parents would go to prison. This is based on the fact that many of them approach the authorities once their parents die.
This is -of course- an extreme case of having to integrate a very difficult past. 
But I think this example illustrates in its extremity how clan loyalty works, how difficult it might be for some to go against it, and how it affects our sense of self.
Immigration as rebirth
All immigrants face this moment, like Frodo in Mount Doom in Lord of the Rings, when we need to let go of our "given" sense of self, our dependent relationship with our mother and the possibility to go back. But this moment comes with doubt and with resistance, not learning the language is one of them. If I shed the old skin... Who is giving birth? who is being born? who dies? what's the essence that survives in this transition?

How does it feel
To be on your own
With no direction home
Like a complete unknown
Jes’ like a rolling stone?
~Bob Dylan


By attempting to answer these questions the awareness of who we are, what is ours and not, increases. Opening the doors to different ways of thinking, learning new meanings through new words, observing and comparing, we are bringing down some of our internal walls and connect with new parts of ourselves. But in this greater level of awareness the connection to this new motherland is not blind.  

The other end
So what is happening to the observers of these transformations? The ones that point a finger and tell their motherland "they don't speak your language". What's going on with them? They too are faced with the realisation their view of the world is not as universal as they used to think. For them, these immigrants act like messengers. Then they also start to wonder then, am I right? is this right? They also build a wall of resistance for not getting lost in the adaptation. They also need time to absorb. With this comment, I don't mean to "excuse" racism or xenophobia. We are all part of a human race that has historically struggled with change and otherness. Self-preservation instinct kicks in, walls are built. In the past most of these questions had been only answered by the generations that came after. They were the ones that having less internal barriers, being freer from some narratives, were more able to work out "the integration part" of the story. They become culturally bilingual. 

Somehow President Obama is caught in the middle of the question of how to integrate narrative with reality (at least in what internal politics is concerned), particularly when he needs to tap into the cultural narrative of the american exceptionalism. As a African American president, he cannot turn a blind eye to dark chapters of American History or even dark corners of American present. He cannot repeat the prevailing narrative without adding new tones. In preparation to the speech he delivered in Selma these were some of the ideas that appeared in drafts: 
 “Even today we continue to have debates about what it means to love this country, to be a true patriot. But what greater expression of faith in the American idea; what greater form of patriotism is there than to believe that America is not yet finished; that it’s strong enough to be self critical; that each generation can look upon its imperfections and say we can do better.
However, he has constantly faced republican criticism like what Giuliani said to Republican donors: 
"I know this is a horrible thing to say, but I do not believe that the president loves America. . . . He wasn’t brought up the way you were brought up and I was brought up, through love of this country.  
Even if it is easy to say that one is right and the other are wrong (depending on which side you are), I described above that we all have a little conservative inside who is concerned with self preservation and prefer to build walls (the main difference is what it is exactly that thing each of us wants to preserve). Obama addressed this opposition directly in his speech drafts:
Those who only understand exceptionalism as preserving the past; who deny our faults or inequality; who say love it or leave it; those are the people who are afraid. Those are the people who think America is some fragile thing.
With these words I'm not trying to endorse this exceptionalism claim, only to illustrate how narratives feel that any sign of self reflection is a threat, somehow showing that the biggest threat is internal. The thing that no one should see or know about us is what we fear the most, what weakens us. 

I round the circle I started in a previous entry, when I said that strength that is based on the rejection of weakness is a false strength. So it is probably only by embracing these weakness, this vulnerable self, that we can complete this re-birth process stronger than before, which allows us to defend the permeable walls that keep our sense of self from falling apart: the ones that protect our essence, our uniqueness, the "myself-but-connected", and tear down the barb wired concrete walls we no longer need. 

Andrea

Interesting articles:
Laurie Penny: "Gender-neutral language is coming - here's why it matters", The Newstatesman

Friday, 5 September 2014

4. Identity and crisis

Identity is a space


It's quite interesting how hugely complex the subject of identity is. Who are we? Who am I?
How do I define it? How do I perceive it?

Name, age, where I come from, my job. For some, it could even involve which car I own or which shoes I wear.

But descriptors fall short of explaining identity. Identity is rather like a geometry, a space. In this sense, we are not only defined by the space we occupy, but also by the limits of that space, and even more the history of the space and its limits. It's a group of yes and no (positives and negatives, female and male forces, creation and castration).
Our identity cannot be scripted and cannot simply be described. It is only discovered through exploration of life. What-I-am and what-I-am-not. We could describe ourselves as "I am intelligent" but if we added "I am not intellectual", we have a much better understanding, a clearer picture of what's the space occupied.
The exploration of the positive, what we are, happens through our actions and achievements. Through the transformation of fear into desire and action. Here the exploration becomes tricky when we try to fully understand which desire is truly ours and which is the desire of a mother/father figure we have identified and delegated power to. But the discovery of ourselves will also involve the exploration of the negative, the shadow, the space we don't occupy and the spaces we are not aware we occupy, the one we don't recognise as ours. Here when I say negative, it does not mean that it is a negative trait. Quite often we do not see talents that for any reason we don't approve of (or our parents did not approve of). We could explore the negative through mirrors (what we "see" in others is normally what we "don't see" in ourselves) but also in testing our limits. This exploration will only truly happen in the moments of making decisions and taking things to action, the moments when we are using our power.
With these two elements we build a narrative and paint a picture of ourselves.

Crisis help us question our map

In crisis, however, we question our own map and we feel forced to revisit the history of it. We find ourselves wondering who we are in reality and digging deeper into understanding if the image we had in our minds is real and where it comes from.
A crisis will happen every time that our habits change, for internal or external reasons. It can be as subtle as realising that a belief we held is untrue (and our ego structure collapses) or as real as losing our job or someone we love and we get in touch with our vulnerable side. When habits change, we inevitably formulate new questions and have to make new decisions. Therefore we have to re-test our limits, find a "truer" centre and re-define the space we occupy whilst feeling quite naked - with all the anxiety this triggers. In every crisis, we have to rediscover our power. Crisis are moments of rediscovery of our own identity.

Economical crisis trigger national identity crisis

At a collective level, this process is lived in the same way. We can all recognise that every economical crisis is followed almost immediately by an national identity crisis. With the economical crisis of 2008, there were many economical and political beliefs that were discovered to be untrue and almost every country entered into the exercise of revisiting who they were (and are, as it has not finished yet) and what do they believe in.Traditions, flags, a surge of nationalist sentiment appeared everywhere. But also the explorations of the "noes": the what-we-are-not, rejection of immigration, regional separatism, and mistrust of anything foreign. Every time we see an advertisement with a flag or somehow exploiting the national codes, we should be thinking "oh-oh: we have a problem".
Crisis are moments of change, which in turn switches on our fears and we may be tempted to go back instead of going forwards. We attach ourselves to our old view of the "mother" nation, and our old way of doing things, which will be -almost inevitably- obsolete.


The idea of nations, even if we have all been born in this as a functioning reality, is quite recent in historical terms and is evolving quite rapidly as well. National identity (through cultural rituals) establishes the familiar, enabling trust and therefore collaboration. Its borders are the borders of our fears, the bigger our fears, the more the walls will take a physical form. Inside I feel secured, I feel at home. Everything foreign deserves a level of mistrust.



I worked for many years in many different foreign countries. I had to learn many languages. But if I met someone with whom I could speak in my language, we would immediately switch to our mother tongue as something very natural. More than once, however, I received complaints from colleagues about this.



In the UK: 

-I don't understand what bothers you. It is a private conversation, why do we have to speak in English- I would investigate.

But I like to overhear your conversation and I cannot understand what you are saying, you could be saying bad things about me. - was the response, to my surprise. 
In Italy, another one said (this conversation occurred in Italian):
If you are in this country, you have to speak Italian, always.


and I asked

-What would you do, if you met another Italian in a foreign country? really?

I would speak Italian - was the unsurprising response as every country that received Italian immigrants would know.



The rise of UKIP in the UK, the extreme right in France, the separatist movements, etc are voicing (and exploiting) these fears, a kind of populism from the right. The political parties of the right (who are closer to the masculine thinking and therefore to the what-we-are-not, the limits and the noes) are the ones normally leading this side of the debate and capturing votes in the way. While the left shies away from the exploration of the national identity from the positive, first of all because it is a taboo. All debate about nationalism is bad, we have all learned that history has proven that nationalism comes with a superiority claim. It was quite interesting to see how in the UK all the Scottish sentiment had to be somehow branded as "civic nationalism" to make the debate acceptable and palatable. Secondly, because it is a much more complex process, more intuitive than conscious. It'd be the exploration of our desire. What we want to be. What's our projectBut that would imply rethinking the state, which under neoliberal doctrine was also a taboo. However -in my opinion- that's what they should be doing instead of trying to catch up with policies that are not theirs.

Opening Pandora's box


Opening the Pandora's box will always feel like a step into the abyss, into darkness. Even if the position of most newspapers would say otherwise, and France is "shocked" about the advanced of the far right. I would argue that at some level it is a healthy exercise as, in opening up to a new world, we can easily get lost in adaptation. As an immigrant, I don't find their arguments positive and I deeply disagree with them. However, I rescue the fact that they are articulating these fears which may help to better resolve them politically, as long as they use this voice in a pluralistic debate and don't raise to power to shut up everyone else. It would be much worse -in my opinion- denying their existence as they would imply a complete disconnection of the people and the political class. It is scaring in moments of crisis, looking at the mirror. But ballots and public debate are always better than wars or street crashes to express these feelings, and these feelings will always find a way to express themselves. All debates about national identity are worth having, even if clumsy, even if we touch the politically incorrect, with all voices speaking and all tensions shown. But for the debate to be complete, the reasons why the (economic) crisis happened in the first place have to be truly revisited and all the "other" voices have to be heard too. Otherwise, the other will never come alive as an equal, someone able to respond, to question and tell their side of the story. 
A story that is kept untold becomes toxic.

Even if many intellectuals and politicians would prefer that national sentiment did not exist: in an era where we haven't yet resolved the separation with our mother/motherland (or any space in which our mother tongue creates an exo-uterus), they do. They are attachments that exist and cannot be dissolved but rather resolved by the people who sustain them. Catalunya, Scotland, the European Union, what it means to be German or Italian. Opening this Pandora's box might not be about spreading evil, but rather to shed light over what's kept hidden and secret in order to resolve it, to heal itEventually, the worst arguments will start to collapse by the weight of their own irrelevance. I'd prefer people to explore these subjects through debate and rather than with violence. From the negative (fears) and even more importantly, from the missing positive. What we can create, what makes us similar rather than different, what we can share, what we can contribute, our common hopes.

The "shock", "the earthquake" -as it was described- that France or UK might be going through these days after the victory of UKIP and the far right in European elections is not so much because these countries are realising they have far right tendencies... it is the realisation that they are vulnerable and afraid. "Rational France afraid?" "Mighty United Kingdom vulnerable?". We all are, in moments of crisis. Not so shocking, in fact.