- I love Yiddish, and I want more people to use it with, every day of my life. So I’ll use it with my kids.
- Yiddish is a huge and meaningful part of my heritage, and I want to pass it on to my kids in a huge and meaningful way.
- I want Yiddish to have a future, and raising kids in it ensures that future.
That’s not really an answer, is it? How did I fall in love with Yiddish to such an extent that I would want to speak it every day, and with my kids, no less? That’s a huge commitment, and a radical statement of devotion to the language, especially for a language that I didn’t even begin to learn until after I’d graduated college. My Jewish heritage is incredibly diverse; why should I choose to raise my kids speaking Yiddish rather than, say, Hebrew, and why express my Yiddish heritage in such a deep way, through day-to-day language? Why do I care so deeply about the future of Yiddish – a “dead”, “Old World” language that, as Isaac Beshevis Singer once half-joked (but only half-joked), “has been dying for a thousand years, and I’m sure it will go on dying for another thousand?” What power do I even have, as one measly little non-native Yiddish speaker, to shape the future of Yiddish?
Of course, in any language, there are benefits to raising kids bilingually. Research has shown both the cognitive and long-term health benefits of speaking multiple languages. I’m really excited that my son will have two native languages at his disposal as an adult – doubling his access to culture, social networks, and professional opportunities. The more languages one learns as a child, the easier it is to learn more as an adult. Plus, it’s cool to be bilingual (and don’t let the bullies tell you otherwise!)
And aside from all that, the experience of raising my son in Yiddish has deepened my own life in so many ways that had never even crossed my mind before I embarked on this journey. I’ve gotten to know a whole world of Yiddish children’s culture that I never even knew existed – board books, comic books, web TV, nursery rhymes, nursery games, teen fiction, children’s songs, childhood vocabulary and expressions, and more. My own fluency in the language has skyrocketed, as a result not only of reading and speaking literally every single day of my son’s life, but also of having an actual need to express myself, often in intimate ways, on a day-to-day basis. I’m developing friendships with other Yiddish-speaking parents and their kids, and I’ve learned so much about the experiences of other bilingual parents through my involvement with the online Bilingual Zoo forum. And not least of all, raising my son in Yiddish has significantly deepened my own personal connection to my Yiddish heritage, far, far beyond the connection that I had as a child (which felt significant at the time, but now feels superficial in comparison).
But those are all bonuses – very nice bonuses, which deepen my experience and give me additional boosts of inspiration to keep on chugging, day in and day out. But the reasons I made the decision, and the reasons I’m still committed, have nothing to do with cognitive benefits or staving off Parkinson’s or boosting my fluency or developing friendships. It really boils down to those three things I listed at the top of this post:
- I love Yiddish, and I want more people to use it with, every day of my life. So I’ll use it with my kids.
- Yiddish is a huge and meaningful part of my heritage, and I want to pass it on to my kids.
- I want Yiddish to have a future, and raising kids in it ensures that future.
As I said, those aren’t truly satisfying answers, and perhaps I’ll explore them in more detail in future posts. And there are probably other reasons as well, tucked away snuggly in the recesses of my subconscious, that won't come out until later in my journey. Maybe the process of working my thoughts out on paper (or pixel) will somehow draw them out. But this post seems long enough for now. At least it should give you a taste!