Posts Tagged ‘Netherlands’

Dossier Van Gogh: gek of geniaal? (mad or genius)

Sunday, August 29th, 2010

I am no art fan, but I had heard of Vincent van Gogh (1853 – 1890). Shortly after moving to Amsterdam, I found out that Van Gogh was in fact Dutch and that the Van Gogh museum was only 5 minutes cycling distance from where we lived. Naturally, I was excited with the prospect of becoming more knowledgeable about the fellow and his artwork. However, my expectations must have been set a bit too high… As I was leaving the museum, I could not help but think that I had paid too much entrance fee (€14) for a guy who was overrated because of a bunch of farm pictures he had painted. He was little known and little appreciated for his art during his short life span of 37 years. It was after his death that he became famous largely due to his sister-in-law’s continuous efforts to promote his work. At that time, I thought she had done an outstanding marketing job and made a nice living out of it…

When I saw the ad for ‘Dossier Van Gogh: gek of geniaal (=mad or genius)?’ exhibition at Dolhuys museum, I could not help but feel a pang of sympathy for Van Gogh… Even long after his death, people are still debating whether his paintings were the fruits of a sick mind or a genius. More than 150 psychiatrists have tried to pinpoint the cause of his mental ailments and have come up with some 30 different diagnoses… What difference does it make? Who cares?

Creativity requires some ‘craziness’.

Most of us live by gender norms, cultural norms, social norms, family norms, and other you-name-it norms. Most of the time we adopt these norms automatically—without even giving them a second thought, because they help us function smoothly in dealing with others. We all have this urge to want to ‘fit in’ and the norms we live by define what is ‘normal’. What is our first reaction when we meet someone who is not ‘normal’? We label them as crazy or ingenius or we simply can’t believe our eyes…

  • “Wow! That’s totally crazy!”
  • “That’s awesome! She must be a real genius!”
  • “That’s insane! Why would anyone do that sort of thing?”
  • “I can’t believe it!”

Isn’t it then ‘normal’ that we develop a tendency to label those who live outside the norms as ‘insane’?

(Here is some crazy behavior: In Turkey, it is customary for men to kiss each other on the cheek upon seeing each other—twice!—and sometimes with an accompanying hearty hug. I still get amused by the disbelieving look on the face of a ‘civilized’ western guy when caught off guard with this custom—which is totally ‘normal’ given Turkish cultural norms of course…)

“There is a fine line between genius and insanity. I have erased this line,” says Oscar Levant (1906 – 1972). Is there really a fine line between genius and insanity? Or are genius and insanity the two ends of a spectrum? What does the spectrum look like? A line with two opposite ends or a circle with no end?

Artists are creative folks. Their courage to live outside the norms enables them to create some awesome stuff. They keep at it in the face of financial difficulty, disapproval from others, living as an outcast. I find it remarkable and praiseworthy. If anything, we all need to be a bit crazier in order to turn on the light of creativity in our lives…

Creativity has no place to blossom in a norm-defined life.


~~~


Johanna Gesina van Gogh – Bonger (1862 – 1925)

I owe an apology to this lady, who was Van Gogh’s sister-in-law. I was too quick to label her as just-a-smart-marketer of Van Gogh’s work after his death. My perception of her at the museum does great injustice to her life and personality. She had been married to Van Gogh’s brother Theo for only 1.5 years before Theo died. I read the memoir that her son (Van Gogh’s nephew) wrote for her and I was quite touched by her story.

Here is an excerpt from a letter she wrote to a friend taken from the memoir:

“The letters have taken a large place in my life already, since the beginning of Theo’s illness. The first lonely evening which I spent in our home after my return I took the package of letters. I knew that in them I should find him again. Evening after evening that was my consolation after the miserable days. It was not Vincent whom I was seeking but Theo. I drank in every word, I absorbed every detail. I not only read the letters with my heart, but with my whole soul. And so it has remained all the time. I have read them, and reread them, until I saw the figure of Vincent clearly before me. Imagine for one moment my ex-perience, when I came back to Holland – realizing the greatness and the nobility of that lonely artist’s life. Imagine my disappointment at the indifference which people showed, when it concerned Vincent and his work…. Sometimes it made me very sad. I remember how last year, on the day of Vincent’s death, I went out late in the evening. The wind blew, it rained, and it was pitch-dark. Everywhere in the houses I saw light and people gathered around the table. And I felt so forlorn that for the first time I understood what Vincent must have felt in those times, when every body turned away from him, when he felt “as if there were no place for him on earth…” I wished that I could make you feel the influence Vincent had on my life. It was he who helped me to accommodate my life in such a way that I can be at peace with myself. Serenity – this was the favorite word of both of them, the something they considered the highest. Serenity – I have found it. Since that winter, when I was alone, I have not been unhappy – “sorrowful yet always rejoicing,” that was one of his expressions, which I have come to understand now.”

Johanna made a great contribution to history by relentlessly promoting Van Gogh’s work. She was anything but ‘just-a-smart-marketer’.

More than that, she was an admirable mother.

~~~

The Illusion of Civilization

Tuesday, July 6th, 2010

[June 24, 2010, Adana, Turkey]

I wake up to the sound of the howling wind, the lightning flashes in the far distance, and a slamming door. I sit up in bed, my heart racing.

What is this?

Unexpected weather. That’s all it is. Had it been in a northern country in the middle of the winter, it would have been totally normal. I would be nicely cuddled under the covers, with the heater on, with tightly insulated doors and windows… A storm brewing outside? Not a care in the world… It is expected.

But here? In Adana, Turkey, at the end of June? Totally unexpected. And it makes me worry. Global cooling?  (Hey, ‘global-warming-worry’ is now getting old. I need a new worry :-) )

We have been here for only two weeks and I have been annoyed with the warm weather, the cold weather, the power cuts, the leaking water tank, the hot water, the cold water, the slow internet, the road rage. Where is the western civilization? I don’t want to feel any fluctuation in weather temperature. I don’t want to have to deal with the water temperature or the water pressure of my shower. I don’t want power cuts. Lights go out when I flip the switch—not randomly! And internet: the slow speed is killing me—okay, I can handle that, but then how do I handle the fact that I can’t access youtube?

WESTERN CIVILIZATION! Where the heck are you?

I look outside the window. The crazy wind has gone; it is eerily quiet. Lovely view outside: the lake shimmering with twinkling city lights in the distance; the moon looking old like a shriveled potato near the horizon. The usual frog chatter is missing and there is utter tranquility on our side of the lake— but now I hear drums in the distance… If I were on a safari in Africa, the sound would be expected, but here? It sounds creepy and annoying. (See? I have found something else to be annoyed with.) Are we in a tribal country? No. So what are these drum sounds? Can somebody please make them stop? It’s getting on my nerves! WESTERN CIVILIZATION! Where the heck are you???

[July 6, 2010, Amsterdam, Netherlands]

The Netherlands has beaten Uruguay 3-2 and now is in the World Cup final.

Sitting at home in the heart of Amsterdam, I hear the ‘western civilization’ go utterly wild outside.

I was out earlier today with my children and made every effort to get myself back home before 7 pm, because I wanted to avoid that overly enthusiastic crowd eagerly waiting to fill in various pubs and cafes to watch the match beginning at 8:30 pm. Cycling towards home before 7 pm, the streets were already busy with people clad in all sorts of orange gear—hats, wigs, glasses, stockings, etc. (you-name-it-they’ve-got-it!). The police was slowly taking their positions in strategic spots to prevent any enthusiast turning into an aggressor/aggrevator. Traffic was already turning into a mess with reckless cyclists and pedestrians… I had to keep an extra close watch on my 10 year old kid. Uhm, western civilization, where the heck are you???

And now the noise emanating from the whole city sounds like a torrential rain mixed with saxophones, drum beats, disco beat, honking cars, police sirens, car alarms going off… It is to be expected, though, right? We are in the World Cup final!!! Party, party, party, western civilization!

May I be annoyed? It is 11:15 pm and I would like to go to bed and sleep. Can somebody please stop the madness outside?

HEY, BUT THIS IS EXPECTED!!!

I guess this is the secret of western civilization. Even the madness and the craziness are planned in such a way that they are EXPECTED. Most about everything is EXPECTED. Nothing unexpected happens. (We had a water outage for one hour yesterday – the first that I have encountered in the last two years and even THAT was planned. Oh, the beauty and the predictability of western civilization…) And when something unexpected happens, it is because of dear Mother Nature. She strikes down with a hurricane or an earthquake or a volcano… How unpredictable and inconvenient… Shame on you Mother Nature, for bringing uncertainty into our lives!

While we were in Turkey, we spent time in a village up in the mountains. My dear hubby pointed out to me that the people were really poor. I had to agree and disagree with him. Yes, they LOOKED poor given the western civilization standards: shabby clothes, old shoes, no iphones, no fancy cars, old motorcycles, bad roads, no banks :-) —not much of a cash flow anywhere… But then, I thought they were rich in a way we would never be. They ate off of their land fruits and vegetables that tasted nothing like the stuff we get here – nothing sprayed with chemicals or pesticides… They cut and ate their own sheep and chicken, who roam free–because there is no money to fence them in… They bake their own bread in old fashined stone ovens with wood from the forest—no money to buy any fancy fuel or fancy ovens… They make their own clothes… These people were self-sufficient and were able to live without the luxuries that I have become addicted to in western civilization.

Western civilization, what have you done to me? Given me the magical paper money (and lots and lots of it), so that I can spend it on stuff that will make me happy (what would I do without my laptop?), so that I can buy any and every kind of insurance to reduce the evil uncertainties that may sneek up on me…

Western civilization has given me the illusion that I have control over my life and things that happen in my life. Nothing unexpected happens anymore. I live in my fish bowl.

I go to Turkey—an aquarium :-) —and immediately I start missing my little fish bowl. Oh, the sweet illusion…

Be stupid. Shop at Diesel.

Thursday, May 6th, 2010

I was walking on Kalverstraat, the famous shopping area in Amsterdam, headed towards Intertoys. Just shortly before Intertoys is a Diesel store, which I am not interested in, so I don’t even look at its window display. However, this time my eye caught something, which my brain registered as odd after I passed the store. So I retraced my steps back to make sure I had seen correctly.

This is what I saw on their window: “Be stupid.”

Seriously… they can’t be serious???

But they are! This is their marketing campaign!

“Be stupid.”

“Stupid is trial and error. Mostly error.”

“Smart may have the answers, but stupid has all the interesting questions.”

“We’re with stupid.” Notice the headless mannequins? That’s what they expect their customers to be: headless and stupid.

“Be stupid.”

And I stood for a few more seconds to see if anyone would actually go into the store—a store that told them to be stupid and declared that they ‘were with stupid’. Sure enough, there were people going in… What’s wrong with people??? Is aspiring to be stupid the new in-thing?

And Diesel is not a cheap store—it’s a brand name that sells crappy old looking clothes.

How do they do it?

They are telling people that they are outright stupid and those people who shop at Diesel MUST be stupid. Why else anyone in their right mind would walk into a store that tells them to be stupid???

Beats me… :-)

30 April Koninginnedag (Queen’s Day)—running out of Amsterdam

Wednesday, May 5th, 2010

This is THE biggest national holiday celebrated in Amsterdam. It is one gigantic open air party where thousands of people flock into the city from other towns to join the celebrations. What are they celebrating? The Queen’s birthday. April 30 is the birthday of Queen Juliana, the mother of the current Queen Beatrix, but Beatrix celebrates it on this day as well.

Happy birthday, Beatrix!

But, having lived through two previous Koninginnedag celebrations, I told my husband that we HAD to leave the city this time.

(GOOD decision!)

Our home is nicely situated in the heart of the city at a junction that happens to be exactly between two bands that would be playing loud and live music all day long. It was almost 11 o’clock when we left our house.

(BAD timing!)

Band #1

Band #2

First thing that struck me as we walked outside was the increase in the number of portable pissoirs (public urinals) set up overnight in our neighborhood.

There is still some privacy when you pee here…

But here??? Would anyone in their right mind pee here??? And what about women who need to pee???

And the number of trucks that were unloading beer the day before… Barrel after barrel after barrel… What a shame I did not have my camera with me :-(

As if the number of bars on the street would not have enough beer to feed the thirsty, beer stands had also sprouted overnight…

We reached the Central Station first by tram and then by metro. (Queen’s Day is the only time of the year when trams stop operating in the center of the city, because of the crowds, the trams cannot ride through!!! Crazy, huh?)

We bought our tickets to go to Hoorn and went to our train’s track. We waited and we waited and we waited. In the meantime, I was awestruck with the arrival of each train spewing out half-drunk singing people wearing orange something: hats, glasses, ears, horns, shoes, stockings, tattoos, makeup, and you-name-it-they’ve-got-it!

Young girls already throwing up in various corners at the train station…

Teens carrying backpacks… I was wondering why when the contents of one were put on display right in front of my eyes. I could not resist the temptation and asked them if I could take a picture!!! They thought I was being funny :-)

First the delay was 5 minutes, then 15 minutes, and then an announcement: “Trains between Sloterdijk and Central Station are unoperational. The police have closed down the tracks.”

At this point, I realized that we had been too late to get out of the city, but the damage was done. The trains would move at some point, right? They possibly could not halt train traffic in and out of the Central Station for long, right???

Well, after having lunch and hanging around the train station, we accepted the ‘no-train’ fact but still determined to leave the city, we headed towards a bus that would take us to Sloterdijk and from there we would catch our train to Hoorn. Big mistake… (with hindsight, of course :-) )

Waiting for the bus, I was intrigued by the contents of this mysterious red metal box, which was conveniently photographed by my two-year-old.

A train trip that usually takes 6 minutes to get from Central Station to Sloterdijk, took us a bit over 2 hours. And then we were stranded at Sloterdijk Station, which is extremely unusual. So instead of waiting maximum 15 minutes to catch a train to Hoorn, we ended up waiting for more than 1 hour.

Moral of the story: Queen’s Day is a very popular day in Amsterdam. If you want to leave the city when thousands of people are flocking into the city, make sure you set your alarm clock to wake up early or even better, leave the day before!

It was a beautiful spring day in the country side. Flowers in full bloom, warm sun, cool breeze… What was wrong with people? Celebrating the Queen’s birthday by getting drunk, smoking pot… (because there is no way anyone can endure the crowds and the music with a clear head). Do most people (especially the young!) have such miserable lives that this is what is considered ‘fun’? Getting drunk until people don’t know themselves anymore and lose themselves to the crowds and the loud music?

Can’t they see what beauty lies out there?

Our journey back home was somewhat easier, but our experience on the tram gave me goose bumps. When the tram was going along Museumplein (which is THE party place), there was a swarm of intoxicated people wanting to get on the tram at all costs. Thank goodness, we were sitting down, but even so, we were pushed and squeezed by the throng. I saw one of the little swing doors travelling in the air. Apparently, it had caved in to human pressure. (I am also amazed how much power we humans hold that we don’t even realize!) I got dizzy by the alcohol that was oozing out of people’s ears!

The next day was another sight to behold when I walked outside in the morning. Heaps of trash piled on the street. Plastic beer glasses everywhere… It looked like a dirty deserted ghost town. The weather was gray and rainy again, which completed the dismal scene. Thanks to all of you who trashed our neighborhood!

So much for the Queen’s Day… Long live the Queen!

VVD wil verplichte taaltoets voor peuters = VVD wants mandatory language test for 3-year-olds

Sunday, April 11th, 2010

This is a piece of news from Amsterdam. All 3-year-olds must do a language test before they start school. Those who do not know enough Dutch will get additional Dutch lessons before they start school.

How utterly brilliant…

The VVD party hopes to reduce the ‘cause’ of school dropouts by testing 3-year-olds for language. Those parents who do not wish to participate will get penalized through reduction of their kinderbijslag (child support payments by the government).

The situation in this country never ceases to amaze me. There is strong stereotyping here against immigrants from certain countries—they even get this special name ‘allochtoon’. The word is derived from Ancient Greek (ἀλλος=other, foreign; χθων=earth, land) and literally means ‘from another land’. It sounds quite harmless indeed, but the word has acquired an additional negative load over the years and now means much more than just an ‘immigrant’. Wikipedia has a very nice article on the word and how it is used in everyday language (in Dutch!—unfortunately if you want to read the English version, you don’t get this information… makes me wonder why?)

Here it goes:

In everyday language, the word ‘allochtoon’ is used to refer to one of the following:

  1. A person belonging to a culturally segregated group,
  2. A person who cannot speak good Dutch,
  3. A ‘gastarbeider’ or the offspring of a ‘gastarbeider’(=guest worker—this term refers to cheap labor imported during 1970’s and 1980’s mostly out of Morocca and Turkey, but also from Italy, Spain, and Portugal. These people were eventually expected to return to their homeland, but most of them settled in the Netherlands and the word ‘gastarbeider’ became somewhat derogatory over the years.)
  4. A person whose skin color is not white,
  5. A person who is not of Dutch ethnic origin.

These immigrants were summoned and welcomed for a purpose—to provide cheap labor—in the beginning, but then they were expected to go back to where they came from when they were no longer needed. They were no longer welcome. However, these immigrants are people and they also have a mind of their own and are entitled to make their own choices. Unfortunately, when they made the ‘wrong’ choice, i.e., chose to stay in the Netherlands when their time was up, the Dutch did not like it at all. The initial warm welcome that the Dutch endowed upon these immigrants turned into bitterness and regret over the years. So much so that it has turned the society into highly segregated groups living under the guise and pretense of equality. The Dutch take great pride in their tolerance, yet they know nothing of tolerance: it’s simply indifference. And their indifference to the different cultures that live amongst them has come at a great societal cost where they can no longer afford to be indifferent any more.

These immigrants who have stayed and produced their offspring in the Netherlands now constitute a ‘problem’ for the ‘Dutch’. The ‘gastarbeiders’ were never integrated into the society in the first place, because they were supposed to leave in the end (when was the ‘end’ is a bit unclear). Thus, what do these ‘gastarbeiders’ do in a country where they are supposed to work without knowing the language and without knowing the ways of the people? They work together; they stick together; they live together; they pray together; they find comradeship and comfort in each other’s company. They are like people stranded on an island—except the island is surrounded not by water, but by the Dutch people who have summoned these people to work for them. They are slaves working for their masters. However, the good masters are only interested in the work of their slaves—nothing else.

What happens over time? Immigrant neighborhoods grow: more immigrants come, some start to bring in their family members, some start new families… There are children being born into these neighborhoods… These children grow up on these ‘islands’ not knowing about the sea surrounding them. At some point, these children have to sail out into the sea, i.e., they have to go to school.

This is the point where the ‘Dutch’ realize they have a ‘problem’ on their hands: these children do not know Dutch; they don’t know the ways of the people. The teachers don’t know how to handle these children, because they don’t know about these children. These children are like ‘aliens’ in the classrooms: they look different, they talk different, they act different. They come from a different culture. These children are referred to as ‘second generation’. They were born in the Netherlands, but at least one of their parents comes from another country.

Just stop and think for a second and put yourself in these children’s shoes. How would you feel?

I will tell you how I would feel. I would immediately start looking for safe ground. If the teacher does not understand what I say and does not make an effort to understand me, I would immediately take a dislike to the teacher and to the school system in general. The ‘natives’ would be like aliens to me and I would steer as far away from them as possible. I would try to share my experiences at home, but they would not have a clue of what I would be going through and could not even begin to help me deal with my problems at school and how to bridge the language gap. Because you see, my parents don’t speak the language… I would look for friends who would be like me and who would understand me. Friends who felt as torn inside as I do: with nobody really understanding what we were going through–neither family nor society… Eventually, we would start to loathe the ‘natives’ and family who do nothing to understand us, yet continue to demand that we understand and obey their ways—and punish us when we don’t. We would start to think why we have to do what we are told to do. What could be OUR way of dealing with life? Eventually, we might even consider rebellion…

Is it a surprise then that there are a lot of ‘problematic’ youth gangs in the Netherlands?

Is it a surprise that this ‘second generation’ youth is out of control and they drop out of school in big numbers?

Is it a surprise that this ‘second generation’ youth does not speak Dutch like the ‘Dutch’? Is it because their mother tongue is creating a barrier and preventing them to integrate into the Dutch culture and language? Do they really have an accent or have they DELIBERATELY developed an accent to stand apart from the ‘natives’?

The bilingual research says children are perfectly capable of acquiring two languages–even though the languages are not learned at the same time. Moreover, there is evidence that children who speak two languages have higher intellectual capacity compared to children who speak only one language. So what is the ‘problem’ with these children in this country?

I think the ‘problem’ lies with the ‘Dutch’ themselves. They like to point their fingers at ‘others’ without pointing it at themselves. They need to turn the tables around and try to understand these children and where they are coming from. They need to make them feel at home. What these children need is understanding, compassion, and love. These children are not here because of their own choice. They are here because the ‘Dutch’ needed their parents to work for them. They are not aliens from another planet. They are children and they are smart children, who just don’t happen to have it easy…

Given the scientific evidence that even the IQ of a child cannot be properly determined before they are 5 years old (and even then the tests can be misleading), starting to test their language at 3 years of age is an unfounded and arbitrary decision.

Instead, give them an ear and listen to them. Show some compassion. Love them.

I think that’s all they need: when they are children… Once they grow up, it may be too late. And giving language tests to THEIR children (so-called the ‘third generation’) is definitely not going to solve the problem…

Unfortunately, I suspect that at this point in time, both the ‘Dutch’ and the ‘immigrants’ have run out of compassion, love, and understanding for each other. The ‘Dutch’ just want all the ‘immigrants’ to go back home. Is that plausible? Where is home NOW for these ‘immigrants’ who came and settled here decades ago?

Just stop and think for a moment…

Helpful Links:

  1. VVD wil verplichte taaltoets voor peuters
  2. Allochtoon
  3. Gastarbeider

Tips on raising a trilingual child

Wednesday, April 7th, 2010

My two-year-old daughter (DD2) is bravely tackling three languages at the same time. I took an inventory of the actual words that she can say in all the three languages when she was 29 months old. Of course, her understanding is much more than what she can vocalize. Frankly, before I took this inventory, I had the absurd thought that she could not speak much, but when I started writing down all that she could actually utter, I was actually baffled by the amount of her vocabulary! At 29 months, her vocabulary is comprised of about 300 words of which 55% is in Turkish, 40% is in Dutch, and 5% is in English.

On average, a 30-month-old monolingual child has a vocabulary somewhere between 300 to 650 words. However, there is greater variation in language development with bi/trilingual children. It’s not uncommon for bi/trilingual children to start speaking much later compared to monolingual children. I guess it must be more time-consuming to digest more than one language at the same time!

Thus, we come to the problematic area of how these children can end up being ‘behind’ in the majority language compared to their monolingual classmates in the classroom—especially in the very beginning, but don’t worry, they DO catch up later and do just as good (and sometimes even better!) than the others.

In fact, recent research shows that the learning capacity of bilingual children is greater compared to monolingual children. This is due to the fact that young children’s brains make more neuronal connections when constantly exposed to more than one language and more neuronal connections means these children can absorb even more material compared to their monolingual peers and with less stress! Our brain is a wondrous device—not at all like a hard drive which can run out of memory at some point, quite the opposite: the more we learn, the more we can learn.

Ironically, even though this research is being conducted by Dutch researchers, it is far from being accepted as a norm in the Netherlands. Here in the Netherlands, the government (through the ‘consultation bureau’, which follows the growth and development of healthy children) encourages parents who speak another language at home to send their children to ‘voorschool’ (sort of a preschool starting at 2.5 years of age) so that these children can learn Dutch by the time they are ready to go to school.

That’s what we did. DD2 goes three days a week for 2.5 hours a day and her Dutch has improved drastically since she started one month ago. In fact, the amount of Dutch words she knows has tripled and almost caught up with her Turkish and she has now switched totally to speaking Dutch and I find myself ‘forcing’ her to speak Turkish to me!

I did a quick search on the web on good tips to raise a trilingual child and here they are:

1. The child needs to be exposed to the language in a natural way.

This means you need to talk to your kid in the language that feels most natural to you. For most people, this is their mother tongue – but then we have the bilingual parents! What language should bilingual parents use to talk to their kid? If it feels natural to speak in both, that’s okay. The important thing to keep in mind is to keep the integrity of both languages, i.e., if you decide to make a sentence in Chinese, don’t include English words in the sentence. Try not to make language soup!

2. OPOL – One Parent One Language

This is one of the popular ‘techniques’ recommended to raise bilingual children for parents who do not share the same mother language. It means each parent sticks to their own language and thus the child grows up naturally in a bilingual home environment. However, each parent has to find other means to supplement the language of their choice, i.e., socialize directly with other people using the same language; watch TV; read; play; visit the country where the language is spoken. You have to give the child another ‘good’ reason (besides yourself!) to speak that language, or else it will be difficult to get her to talk in that language in the long run!

3. ML@H – Minority Language at Home

This is the situation where the minority language is the ‘home’ language – even though it may not be the native language of the parents. The idea is that by creating a ‘home’ language independent of what happens in the outside world, there is greater consistency and clear-cut boundaries with language choice. (Don’t we all parents know the golden rule of consistency—best discipline tool for children, but hard to stick to!!!) A disadvantage of this method is that children learn the language of the ‘majority’ later, which may cause worrying for some parents. For those worrying parents: Keep in mind children are miraculous creatures! As long as the children are exposed to the majority language, they will catch up eventually (usually by the time they are 5). It’s the minority language that you need to worry about, which is in danger of disappearing eventually!

What I observe happening most of the time with children is that the ‘majority’ language becomes dominant after a period of time. How to keep the other languages alive?

  1. Be strict: Insist on using the language at home.
  2. Continue to create new experiences using the language: Travel, visit the grandparents, help them mix with the local crowd, find international student exchange programs, etc.
  3. Make it ‘cool’ to speak the language: Find a celebrity they like, who sings in that language; find stuff/toys only available in the country where the language is spoken.

Last but not the least; remember that children’s language preference tends to shift towards those whom they befriend. Tip for parents: be a ‘friendly’ and strict parent if you want them to speak your language! How to be friendly and strict? I have not found the magic formula yet, but I am working on it!  :-)

Helpful links:

  1. Tweetalig onderwijs stimuleert leercapaciteit bij kinderen
  2. Raising bilingual children: the different methods to success
  3. Forum: Rules of trying to raise a child trilingual

Big Brother is watching you: Gebied beveiligd met DNA-SPRAY

Sunday, March 21st, 2010

This is the sign that stands on a street corner in Amsterdam. It means: ‘area secured with DNA-spray.’ Apparently, it is not the only one: there are ten more signs like this spread around nearby shopping areas.

The first thing that came into my mind when I saw it: is big brother watching me?

I have been thinking if there is one country on the planet where it is easy to watch and control people; it would have to be the Netherlands. Why? Because it’s small and densely populated with people who are obedient and compliant—even though they would tell you otherwise.

So I came home and did a little search on the web to see what this DNA-spray business was about. There was not much information that I could get my hands on. It makes sense that there is no real information. Why would they make such information public to everyone? So that thieves and rouges can find their way around this new security system?

Or maybe the information out there is IT; there is nothing more to it!

DNA-spray project has been undertaken by the government and the police in the Netherlands (originated in the UK). In case of an incident, once the alarm button is triggered, a certain solution is sprayed (hopefully on the offender!), which clings onto hair, skin, and clothes. Each store has a unique solution, which thus helps link the offender to the crime scene. Traces of this solution can remain on fiber and in the creases of the skin for weeks, which can be detected under UV-light or with forensic analysis.

There are a few blogs on the web that talk about it, but there is mixed information as to how long the solution can remain on the skin: some say weeks, some say a few days.

The company that produces the spray claims that the ‘fear-factor’ is the important deterrent to crime. The flashy signs inform the offenders that they may be sprayed and thus caught more easily than before. The result so far: reduced crime numbers in neighborhoods where signs have been posted.

It all ‘sounds’ nice: reduced crime numbers. Do criminals suddenly change their minds and decide that they will stop stealing? Or do they move into other neighborhoods and continue business as usual? If crime shifts to other neighborhoods, then that would mean either crime rates will increase elsewhere or everybody will install these systems to prevent crime. But then, what happens to the criminals? Do they all get caught in the end and everybody lives happily ever after?

Anyways… At least after reading up on this, I had one happy thought: Big brother was not yet watching me—at least not with DNA-spray! :)

Helpful links:

  1. Company behind DNA-spray
  2. Oud-Zuid experimenteert met DNA-spray

Don’t count your chickens before they hatch!

Thursday, March 18th, 2010

Apparently, all is not going as smooth as I had hoped for. In fact, it is getting worse with every day of preschool!

My two-year-old daughter (DD2) started preschool two weeks ago. Our first two days were a huge success – I was hanging around and left her by herself for only 15 minutes the first day and 45 minutes the second day. She did not cry at all. She was happy as a bee, but things started to go downhill on the third day when I started to leave with the other parents. Since then her crying has continued to increase with every day that we have gone back.

Today was her 7th day and the worst day of crying so far…

The teachers here don’t believe that parents ought to stay to help the child get adjusted. Their philosophy is more like, “Don’t hang around, because it makes it more difficult to say goodbye. Disappear from her sight as quickly as possible. She will cry, but then she will adjust much faster.”

Parents need to drop off their children quickly and not make the situation emotional.

See, I have a problem with this kind of philosophy. However, the way things are here in the Netherlands, I should be grateful that they even let me stay as long as I did in the beginning. Parents are not welcome in the classroom. There are good reasons behind this practice:

  • The child will adjust eventually, even though they may cry.
  • Other children can start crying when they see somebody else’s parent staying behind because they are reminded of the absence of their own parents.
  • It teaches the child to be independent.
  • It teaches the child to learn to trust strangers.
  • It teaches the child that the parent comes back in the end.
  • The teachers don’t have outsiders observing them.
  • There is less of a crowd in the classroom.
  • The parents can be a distraction and a nuisance for the teachers.
  • One-size-fits-all recipe: Everybody gets the same treatment.

I believe this practice is not the best approach to raising emotionally healthy kids, because:

  • It teaches the child that her tears (emotions) don’t mean much.
  • It can be a traumatic way to sever the bond between the parent and the child.
  • It teaches the child to learn to trust strangers. (Yep! This can be good AND bad!)
  • It teaches the child that her parent can’t be trusted to stick around in emotionally distressed situations, and thus undermines the trust bond between a parent and a child. (Is this the perfect recipe to breed distrust towards each other in society?)
  • There are more friendly ways to help the transition: the parent and the child can be the judge of when to separate. Most parents know the difference between real tears and ‘crocodile’ tears. It’s just not a good idea to leave a kid alone with real tears. (To teach the child that life is cruel? Life is cruel, but if we want a less cruel society, don’t we need to make a change with the way we raise children?)

I understand why they want to keep parents out of the classroom here. If they decide to involve the parents, it’s like opening Pandora’s Box: in addition to dealing with children, the teachers also have to deal with parents, which can be extremely difficult sometimes. It requires people knowledge and communication skills. Some parents can be real pains in the neck, but some can be of great help, too!

Involving parents would mean differential treatment for every child, which goes against the societal directive here in the Netherlands that everyone is entitled to equal rights. Everyone is entitled to equal rights. It sounds so nice, but it just can’t be. There is a price to pay in order to achieve this. For example, one child’s parent can stay long and the other parent can’t/won’t. So the child whose parent can stay long is punished because the other child’s parent can’t/won’t stay… Because? Everyone is entitled to equal rights! Why should we let some kids be ‘spoiled’ when others don’t have that luxury? So let the kids whose parents can stay behind, cry…—just like the rest.

Even though we all like to have benchmarks about developmental milestones that we can compare our children against and even though in general children follow these developmental milestones, every child is unique. Any parent with more than one child knows this simple truth. What works with one kid, does not work with the other one.

My older daughter was less distressed in new situations when I explained things to her up front, but with DD2 it works the other way around. She gets even more wound up when I try to ‘prepare’ her for what is coming up! After the traumatic week at school, I tried to talk to her about it to ease her frustration and reduce her stress, but it totally backfired. She immediately began to cry and protest school. I held her tight and told her all the nice things about school but that she would have to wait because it was still a few days away. She cried even harder. I decided to drop the subject and steered her attention elsewhere. I tried talking again the next day: to no avail. At that point, I just knew that DD2 was not going to be ‘prepared to go to school’ by talking; she would just have to live through it. What good does it do to her if my talking elevates her stress level and makes her feel as if she is already on her way to school?

So much for our successful beginning in preschool…

I still don’t know what else I can do to ease her transition. The only consolation I have right now is the phone call I just received from the teacher telling me that she is doing okay and has stopped crying.

Read previous post: First day at preschool

First day at preschool

Wednesday, March 3rd, 2010

Today is a historical day for my daughter 2DD and for me. I am truly proud of both of us! 2DD did not go to daycare nor did she have a babysitter. She was born and bred at home by her mama. There was not one night she spent apart from me. She was very clingy for a long time and would not go to strangers at all. During consultation visits (in the Netherlands, there are no regular visits to the pediatrician for checkup and vaccinations, but instead parents take their children to a ‘consultation bureau’), they noticed how clingy she was to me and advised me to ‘teach’ 2DD to be independent by letting her stay with someone else. I braced myself against this sort of advice, because I was following my instinct and was testing a hypothesis that I had developed over the years. Nonetheless, I would brood over what they had said because, if they were right and my hypothesis and instinct were wrong, then that would mean I was setting up 2DD for a total life of dependency (yikes!). She would never be able to do anything on her own without me. Even the thought of it was enough to give me palpitations, but I persevered :) . And thank goodness I did.

Today was a total success. 2DD is 2 years and 4 months old and when I left her today, she did not shed one tear! I give myself a HUGE pat on the back.

Okay, I confess it did not happen that quickly…

Here is how we pulled it off: 2DD had accompanied me on all three appointments with the teachers. These appointments all took place in her current classroom. During the first two appointments, she sat on my lap the whole time that we were there. Despite my efforts to put her down and have her go down the slide or play with some toys, she was adamant to stick to me. However, the third time we went there, she climbed out of my lap herself and strolled around the classroom. I tagged along and located a wooden stall filled with tiny horses – one of her favorite things. She played with them for about five minutes after which I pulled her away and told her it was time to go.

About roughly one month after that – today!—she went for her real first day.

I had told her during the last weeks a few times that she would be starting school and making new friends. I had no idea how much of that she had registered – until today, that is. When we walked together from home to her school, she herself showed me the main entrance as we approached it. Once we were inside, she knew exactly where we were headed to. She showed no resistance at all. Once we were inside, we did just like everybody else—took off her coat, put on house shoes, etc. — and it all went just fine :) !

I stayed most of the morning with her. During the last half hour of free play, I distanced myself from her and sat in another corner of the room as she played. She called for me several times and I told her to play and that I would sit there for a while. I sat there for 15 minutes as she ran back and forth a few times. After 15 minutes, I got up and told her that I was going to the bathroom and that I would be back. She looked at me gave a little nod and then went back to playing. I came back 15 minutes later to find out that she had not cried a bit and she had kept on playing and even joined a little trip to the bathroom with her teacher and another kid—not to pee, but to have a look!

SUCCESS!!! First day at preschool and not ONE tear shed.

Congratulations to 2DD and proud me!

If people tell you that the first day of school is always stressful and full of tears, here is my cup of cake for them:

  • Timing and preparation is everything. Make sure to prepare children for any pre-planned, scheduled event, because any change in their daily lives will cause a certain level of stress. (Think of it this way: when something new is coming up—a new job, a big party, moving, etc.—even adults get stressed!)
  • The parent has to learn to control their own feelings about the issue: keep a cool head and attitude and stay relaxed at all times. If the parent is having a hard time separating with the child, you can be certain that that child’s stress level will be multiplied by at least a factor of 2.
  • Don’t compare your child’s situation with other children’s situation. Even though we like to talk about what needs to happen ‘normally’, keep in mind that every situation and every child is unique. Respect that uniqueness.
  • Some crying is okay and is healthy, don’t try to prevent it or don’t worry about it. However, follow up on it. If your child is crying more than five minutes after you leave him, then something is definitely not right. Investigate. If your child’s crying is not showing signs of lessening after two weeks of school, then something is again definitely not right. Definitely investigate.
  • Learn to trust your child and to trust yourself. We are all human beings and every one of us has different needs. Respect your children’s emotional needs. You are all they have at the beginning of their journey on this planet.

Read the next post: Don’t count your chickens before they hatch!