[Editor’s Note: This is the second of a three-part story comparing French and American immigration issues. After a gentle beginning yesterday, today’s installment turns provocative. Our correspondent is herself an immigrant. See Part 1, “Our Favorite Visitor to France Returns with Immigration Views,” Dec. 27. Part 3 will run Monday.]
First, we should acknowledge one major factor that distinguishes the old and the new wave of immigrants.
In the past when immigrants arrived in America, their experience was a dream come true.
Newcomers wanted to be called Americans. They were happy and proud to finally make it after spending so much time and effort obtaining a residency permit.
Once they laid their feet on American soil, they knew this would be their permanent home.
They learned the American-English language in order to communicate and to achieve in life.
(Later I learned with great surprise that English was not the official language of the country!)
The Way It Used to Be
Permit me to give you an example:
Every Saturday when we went to our synagogue, we sat next to two old men, Charlie and Marvin. Marvin walked with cane, and he obviously was in very poor health. He and our younger son, Elia, who was seven years old at the time, became best friends.
One day Elia asked Marvin what had happened to his leg. Marvin proudly answered that he was an American soldier, and he had been injured in World War II.
Elia was surprised.
He looked at the old man with respect and admiration while asking asked many questions.
Elia announced to everyone that Marvin was a soldier.
Time to Change Names
Later Charlie told us that he was exactly at Elia’s age when he and all his brothers and sisters arrived from at Ellis Island from Russia following the Communist Revolution. Only their mother accompanied them. Their father had been killed.
Charlie still remembered clearly the moment they met their uncle who was waiting for them. After tears and kisses, their uncle asked all of the children to sit down on the bench, and he asked their names.
Speaking of Languages
They were coming from a small village in Russia, Charlie told his new relative. They had lived in the Jewish quarter. Among themselves, they spoke only Yiddish. Outside of their circle, they spoke Russian.
Naturally, they all had complicated Yiddish names. Their uncle did not understand a word. He looked puzzled and said, “You are in America. From now on, you are going to have American names.”
The uncle went around to them, one by one. “You,” he said, pointing at Charlie, “will be called Charlie.” Charlie laughed. “My uncle renamed every one of us,” he said. “I have been Charlie ever since. I learned English, and I made my mother — and the spirit of my father — proud of my achievements.”
Very Different Attitude
By contrast, there is today:
When Elia entered school, I volunteered and became active at his school.
One day I was invited with a group of 20 or more parents to a School Board meeting downtown. At first, they conducted the meeting in English. Then they changed to Spanish, and a person interpreted it into English.
As a naive newcomer from France , I was surprised.
I asked my Hispanic friend why they were speaking in Spanish when we were in an educational location and in America.
She kicked me lightly. Speaking in a low voice, she warned me: “Don’t repeat that anymore. They will think you are racist!”
I was shocked by her answer.
It’s Not Official
Later, when I asked the reason for her remark, she told me that English never has been voted the official American language.
At future meetings, when we started to know each other better and they understood that I spoke different languages, some ladies asked me to join them.
They told me about a School Board policy. If they had 10 people who spoke the same language, the Board was obliged to run the meeting in their native language, and give an English interpretation to the rest of the crowd.
I protested. “We already are losing a lot of time this way,” I said. “Do we really need other languages to add? Are we here for our children or our egos?”
It did not take long before I learned my lesson.
Wrong Goals
Actually, I was wasting my time in these meetings.
Their aim was not the betterment of our children’s education. The real reason of the meetings was more political, for personal power-seeking.
Therefore I believe if we do not have clear laws and clear requirements from the beginning, we will confuse ourselves and the newcomers at the same time.
When in France
What a difference I found in France, which is built on a very old and strong history, traditions and laws.
Many tourists become embittered toward France when they ask a question in their native language, and a salesperson simply replies: “You are in France. Speak French.”
The immigrant who enters France knows well that French people are not going to learn his/her language or traditions.
Whether visitor or immigrant, the newcomer arrives in the country knowing that their language is French.
It is the newcomer who has to make an effort to learn and adapt himself to their mode de vie.
When the family’s children enter the neighborhood school, they will be required to learn the language and history of France, like any other student.
(To be concluded on Monday.)
Dr. Rosemary Cohen, who lives in the Fairfax District, received her Ph.D in sociology from the Sorbonne in Paris. She lived in two other countries before moving, with her husband and children, to Los Angeles in 1984. She has published three books in America, and is working on her fourth. Since 1985, Paris, an international art business. Her email address is rosemary@atelierdeparis.com.
