Raising Bilingual Children

The homepage of this website features a quote by Ludwig Wittgenstein, which nicely summarises my view on the benefits of bilingualism: “The limits of my language means the limits of my world.” This is quite literally true when travelling to countries where you don't speak the language; without the ability to communicate effectively with the locals it is very difficult to understand their culture and perspective.

When my wife and I decided to have a baby, it was obvious to both of us that we would raise her to be bilingual. We were both translators, and we had met each other through Erasmus (an EU-wide university exchange programme), so the benefits of bilingualism were quite clear to us. In recent years, there has also been a growing body of evidence supporting the benefits of bilingualism — lateral thinking, creativity, communicative sensitivity, and delayed cognitive decline — but we did not really need convincing; for us, bilingualism was simply a way of life and a key part of our identity.

We made a conscious decision to speak to our daughter exclusively in our respective mother tongues (English for me and French for my wife) while we would continue to speak English to each other. I made a very deliberate effort to speak to my daughter only in English unless we were with non-anglophones and they needed to understand what I was saying to her. Even as a professional translator, this requires some discipline, and I admit that I occasionally had to look up words that I had never learned in English (gigoteuse, lait infantile, etc.).

I was never concerned about my daughter confusing English with French, even during the early days of language acquisition when she occasionally melded the two languages to great comedic effect. When she was around two, she would ask for her “pyjama fesse” at bedtime. This is an example of “code mixing” or “code switching”, which is quite common in young bilingual children; “fesse” is the French word for bottom in the anatomical sense, rather than referring to the trouser part of pyjamas. My daughter knew that the trouser part of pyjamas was called “pyjama bottoms” in English, so when speaking French, she simply swapped the English word “bottom” with the French word “fesse.”

Likewise, around the same age, her favourite colour was dark green and when colouring or drawing she would ask for her “noir vert pen.” In French, the word "noir" means "black," but it can also be used to describe darkness, as in the phrase "dans le noir" ("in the dark"). She knew that in English the colour she liked was called "dark green." When speaking in English, she was trying to describe this specific shade of green by using the French word "noir" to convey the idea of "dark."

I love these types of anecdotes, but they do tend to stick in our minds because they are the exception rather than the rule. Children seem to be able to distinguish between different languages fairly early. I remember my daughter translating for the benefit of a neighbour at the age of two and serving as an interpreter for German-speaking employees at a hotel kids’ club aged three. I have another story of a German acquaintance married to a French man who both spoke their native languages to their child, with the mother speaking German and the father speaking French. Consequently, as a toddler, the child briefly seemed to believe that men speak French and women speak German. Research by Ursula Lanvers of the University of York shows that bilingual children are indeed well aware that two words exist for the same concept.

The challenge for bilingual families is to ensure that the child has enough exposure to the “minority language” (i.e. not the language of the country they are living in) for them to pick it up. For working parents, this is clearly a significant challenge. I was blessed to be able to spend a lot of time with my daughter during her formative years, and yet (maybe unsurprisingly) the “majority” language (French) still seemed to dominate.

We were also lucky enough able to send our daughter to bilingual school from the age of three; from the very first week, I noticed that she was more likely to reply to me in English. This is quite a common phenomenon in bilingual children who suddenly experience increased exposure to the minority language — especially in a school environment where they are exposed to new words and concepts. I like to believe that this change was a direct consequence of her realising that “it’s not just dad who speaks this strange language.” Children are highly responsive to social dynamics; seeing teachers, classmates and other parents also speaking English reinforced the idea that it is a common and “acceptable” language. As an anglophone, I am also lucky that English is a relatively “high-status language,” so my daughter regularly received positive reinforcement about her bilingualism. A child of Rwandan immigrants might not receive the same positive reaction from strangers who hear her speaking Swahili in public. 

Professor of Psychology at the University of Chicago, Katherine Kinzler has done research that shows how children as young as four demonstrate a preference for native-accented speakers over foreign-accented ones. One of her studies shows that children are more likely to trust and learn from native-accented speakers, and that by the age of five, children explicitly prefer peers who speak their native language with a native accent. This also has implications for the acquisition of the minority language, as children who demonstrate a preference for native-accented speakers are likely to be more drawn to the majority language spoken in the country they are growing up in. This could make them less inclined to speak or embrace their parents' minority language, especially if they perceive it as being "different" or "foreign" compared to the language of their peers and teachers. They might be less motivated to engage with the minority language if they associate it with being "different" or less socially acceptable. This could lead to reduced practice and exposure to the minority language, ultimately making it harder for them to become proficient in it.

Even children who are exposed to both languages relatively equally may not achieve the same level of mastery in both — but why would we expect them to? As Barbara Abdelilah-Bauer argues in her book “Le défi des enfants bilingues,” even people who speak only one language have varying levels of linguistic competence in different contexts, depending on their experience in a given specialist subject (cookery, law, sports, etc.). This phenomenon is exacerbated in bilingual people because they will often only hear one of their languages in certain specific contexts (family, formal, educational, professional, etc.). Because of this, Ms Abdelilah-Bauer argues, people who truly master two or more languages are extremely rare.

Indeed, according to psycholinguist François Grosjean, the notion of an “imbalance” in one’s language ability (i.e. that you master one language better than the other) only makes sense from a non-bilingual perspective. So-called “balanced” bilingualism is uncommon precisely because, in a monolingual society, the opportunity for bilingual people to use both languages in any given situation is practically non-existent. Ms Abdelilah-Bauer says that a bilingual individual should be viewed as evolving over time with their grasp of either language fluctuating based on their age and social and geographical environment.

In terms of enabling your child to become bilingual, as well as trying to overcome the aforementioned societal and psychological obstacles, Ms Abdelilah-Bauer argues that the equal sharing of household tasks can facilitate bilingualism, especially if the parents do not speak the same language. If household tasks are equally shared, it naturally increases the opportunities for the child to hear and use both languages in practical, everyday contexts.

Regarding the ideal age for language acquisition, it was long thought that the critical cut-off age was adolescence (or even as young as six), but a large-scale study on native Spanish-speaking and Chinese-speaking immigrants to the USA seems to disprove this idea of a “critical age,” although the authors do concede that the degree of success in second-language acquisition steadily declines throughout a person’s life.

The final issue for parents considering raising their children as bilingual is that it must be right for your family. It is crucial that the parents are on the same page; if one parent insists on strict adherence to one language and the other is more lenient, conflicts can arise, which can be unhealthy both in terms of language acquisition and family harmony.

If one parent doesn’t speak or fully understand the other’s language, communication within the family can also become difficult. Misunderstandings can arise, leading to frustration. The parent who doesn’t speak the language that is more dominant in the household may feel isolated or disconnected from conversations or activities, or even excluded from their child’s life.

None of these issues are insurmountable, but raising bilingual children requires a long-term commitment from both parents, as it involves planning, empathy, and consistent effort — particularly to maintain the minority language. This can be exhausting, especially when facing resistance from the child or dealing with pushback from friends or family, for example regarding now-debunked concerns around delayed learning in bilingual children.

For parents whose native tongue is not the dominant language of the country where they live, there is another consideration; ultimately, you need to be aware of and comfortable with the fact that — no matter how hard you try, and even if your child is fully bilingual — your child will not have the same relationship to your native language and culture as you do. They are also likely to have a different accent, intonations and cultural references to their peers in your country of origin.

Due to this, raising bilingual children can also present challenges around personal identity. Language is a strong cultural marker and, as such, bilinguals often have a unique but enriching relationship to their national identity. This relationship is different for everyone; some people are equally attached to their two countries, while others do not feel a particular sense of attachment to either. I have experienced both feelings at different points in my life. This can lead to a sense of dislocation, but it can also be liberating: you feel more open to other cultures and it can allow you to escape the feeling of being “formatted” by your narrow personal background.

Ultimately, the choice to raise a bilingual child is a personal one, often based on your own experience. It can be challenging, but it is also rewarding — and I wouldn’t have it any other way.