Lost in Translation: The Reason We Don’t Know Our Mother Tongue

As a second-generation immigrant, the theme of dual identity has always been

a complex one. Growing up British but not fully British, Nigerian but not fully

Nigerian, has always left me in an awkward grey area between two completely

opposite worlds- an experience that is commonly shared between other young

Black-British Africans. While we can all name a few dishes from our respective

countries and indulge in a couple of Afro-beats, for many of us, our connection

to our heritage merely scrapes the surface of the depths of history that our

cultures have to offer.

It is almost routine for African young people to excuse their lack of cultural

knowledge by blaming their parents for not teaching them. You casually

dismiss your lack of knowledge by claiming, “I can understand but not speak”

your mother’s tongue, but understanding a language is not enough to keep a

culture alive. Not much thought is given to the domino effect this will have on

our future generations.

A more interesting perspective is to observe the varying experience of ethnic

minorities in regards to language. I conducted a study with 200 people of

ethnic minorities and found roughly 70% of Black-British Africans don’t know

how to speak their mother tongue fluently, whereas only around 30% of those

in other ethnic minorities are unable to speak their parents language. It’s clear

there is not enough of a cultural emphasis within our community to pick up our

mother tongue in comparison to other communities. As someone who is

growing to love my African heritage more and more the thought of our native

languages dwindling from generation to generation is a massive concern as

language is a prominent part of cultural identity. If the recent race riots

throughout the United Kingdom have showed us anything, it’s that our cultural

differences as Black-British people are not encouraged or celebrated within

British society thus making it an even bigger responsibility for us young

Africans to preserve our cultures.

It is easy to place the blame on our parents for this. However, as I mature, I

begin to examine my parents; decisions from a different perspective.

Being a young adult myself, I cannot imagine the complexities that come with

relocating to an entirely different continent and culture. The pressure I face on

a personal level to integrate into Western society as a young Black woman

allows me to understand the pressure my parents faced to integrate

themselves and their families into British life at a time where racism was even

more prevalent then it is currently. Amidst the adversities they encountered in

their search for success in Britain, I can only assume their primary concern was

to conform and create a stable, successful life not only for themselves but also

for the relatives in their native countries who rely heavily on them.

Therefore, it’s no surprise that our parents, wanting the best for us, would

choose to place us in positions they felt would bypass the obstacles that stood

in their way as young adults—one of the highest being the massive language

barrier between first-generation immigrants and British society. In desperate

attempts to adapt and assimilate, our parents ensured we mastered a

language foreign to them in order to open doors that were never afforded to

themselves. The sole desire for most parents is to ensure they provide their

children with the opportunities to do better than them in life. As outsiders in a

racialized society, many immigrants interpreted their proximity to whiteness as

a heightened chance of success and acceptance.

The question I pose for young black second-generation immigrants is what we

plan to do about this. How long will we regurgitate the same excuses; “my

parents never taught me”, “I can understand it but can’t speak it”. The

normalization within young ethnic people to be monolingual will birth a

generation of children with no claim to their heritage whatsoever. We are

blessed to be a part of cultures with rich histories. As someone who does not

enjoy learning languages, the thought of my mother’s tongue being completely

lost through my future generations was enough to make me take the steps to

learn it. We cannot reverse the decisions of our parents, but we are in full

control of our future legacies and generations. While it is tempting and

convenient to default to speaking English at all times, I write this article to

implore young second generation immigrants to do their due diligence in

learning their history, and keeping our languages alive for future generations

to come.

Printed by Rachel