It's not the easiest or most utilitarian of languages to learn (hello, seven noun declensions!), and really only comes in handy if you are, for example, traveling in Lithuania or wanting to talk about someone behind their back. So I often find myself fumbling to explain why a relatively obscure Indo-European tongue, one of the oldest living languages in the world today, is J-dog and V-meister's langue maternelle.
Lithuania was first mentioned in the annals of history about a thousand years ago. It saw its heyday during the Middle Ages, when, with all assorted fiefdoms lined up and standing on tiptoe, its borders briefly stretched from the Baltic to the Black seas. This was and still is Lithuania's greatest claim to fame, with the bronze medal winning Olympic basketball team of 1992 sponsored by Jerry Garcia and the Grateful Dead coming in at a close second.
Later, there were a few hundred years of great might through an alliance with Poland, but the country's fortune began to change when it fell under the rule of czarist Russia during the 1800s. There was a brief period of sovereignty and cultural renaissance between World Wars I and II (the shining period of Lithuanian history into which both sets of my grandparents happened to be born), but in the summer of 1939, Lithuania was annexed to the Soviet Union against her will as part of the Molotov-Ribbentrop Pact between Russia and Germany. It was punted back and forth between the two countries a few times during the course of World War II, but when the dust finally settled, it was Soviet occupied.
The Soviet Union worked carefully and deliberately to eradicate Lithuania's national identity (as well as that of the other two Baltic states - Latvia and Estonia) for nearly fifty years. Thousands of "anti-communist subversives" (read: journalists, artists, clergy, educators) were deported to prisons in Siberia, Russians were encouraged to relocate to Lithuania in an effort at homogenization, and Lithuania's culture and history were systematically "russianized." Outgoing mail was routinely intercepted, and people were beaten up and thrown in prison for offenses as seemingly trivial as the possession of a typewriter. (Typewriters were prohibited for private use because they could be used to disseminate anti-Soviet propaganda outside the Iron Curtain.)
Because of the looming specter of cultural obliteration, Lithuanians like my grandparents and parents living abroad made it their mission to ensure that the language and cultural traditions of their homeland would survive in exile. It's why they taught me - a second generation Lithuanian and American born citizen - Lithuanian from birth.
Growing up, it was the only language spoken in our home. Throughout grade school, I attended language immersion classes on Saturday mornings, (reluctantly) read Lithuanian literature as well as The Baby-Sitter's Club series, raced from Brownies to junior folk dance practice on Friday nights, and took back-to-back piano and Lithuanian lap harp lessons - all in the name of a tiny spark of hope that the country my grandparents had reluctantly fled some thirty years before would someday be free again.
In mid-January of 1990, Soviet tanks stormed Lithuania's capital city of Vilnius, zoning in on the area around the national TV tower where thousands of citizens had gathered in peaceful protest against the U.S.S.R.'s half century long rule. And while the international media's eyes were trained on the Gulf War half a world away, the Soviet Army killed 14 Lithuanian civilians and injured hundreds more in a last ditch attempt at snuffing out a grassroots freedom movement that had been slowly gathering momentum for years.
And less than two months later, on March 11th, 1990, Lithuania declared itself sovereign, the first of the Baltic countries to do so. To their utter joy and disbelief, my grandparents were alive to witness from afar the day they had no hope could arrive during their lifetime.
On the weekend when this occurred, it was my great misfortune to be stuck in town for the SATs while my entire extended family traveled to Washington D.C. along with thousands of others to rally for independence. So when news came at dusk that Lithuania had finally, finally declared itself free, I was home alone in a darkened kitchen, eating a bowl of Ramen noodles. And I, who only knew Lithuania from books, song and lore, stood in front of a flickering TV set and wept for her.
Lithuania went through a difficult time of transition from a communist state to a free market economy. And during the fifty years of Soviet occupation, its language inevitably evolved towards a distinctly Russian dialect. So much so, that my accent and vocabulary is two generations out of date and often deemed antiquarian by current native speakers. What's more, after fifty years of tireless efforts to keep it alive and pure, there is no longer a need to defend it.
And yet.
I continue to speak Lithuanian with my parents and even with my adult siblings. When the P-Dawg (who is not Lithuanian) and I decided to get married, there was no question that we would do the traditional Lithuanian wedding dance during our reception. And when the little V-meister was born, the words I spoke to greet her, the ones that flowed most naturally from my lips, were Lithuanian.
There was no question when I first laid eyes on her that Lithuanian would be the little V-meister's mother tongue. Though I had not shed blood, sweat or tears for the tiny homeland of my parents' birth, it felt as much a part of me as the wrinkled, warm bundle that squirmed in my tired arms.
Lately and understandably, it's getting more and more difficult for V-meister, and especially the younger J-dog, to express themselves in Lithuanian. English vocabulary is quickly replacing many of their Lithuanian words, and rightly so. My children are third generation persons of half Lithuanian descent living in a country - America - that changed their family's fate.
Make no mistake - we are American. I love America and will always call it home.
And yet . . . I will go to great lengths to bind my children to the vestiges of the long suffering heritage that is only half theirs.
It is the least I can do.
"Attack of the Killer Lithuanian National Doll"
(Click here if you want to read my family's emigration story.)
12 comments:
love, love, love this.
you are awesome for preserving your family's history.
This is wonderful. I wish I had something like that in my family to preserve. My mom learned very little of her parents' native tongue (Italian) and I know none at all, sadly. It's so important to hold on to these traditions and share them.
I love this. (The photo is hilarious.) I wish one of us spoke another language (any other language!) to teach the kids. My great-grandfather from Italy flat refused to teach Italian to any of his children. He was American now by golly and they would all speak English. I understand how he could have felt that way, and his country did not suffer a sad fate like your grandparent's nation.
I think it's amazing that you've given this to your kids. Someday (not soon) they will deeply appreciate it.
What an excellent post!!
I love it when families speak another language to each other. There was a girl who grew up speaking French in my French IV class in high school and hearing her talk to our teacher in French but with the typical teenage sass CRACKED ME UP. And don't get me started on my Puerto Rican friends.
I love that you are preserving their heritage! It will mean so much to them one day.
I think it's fantastic that they are bilingual for many reasons. Preserving a part of their background is only one part of it. They should feel proud of their past as well as the country that they live in.
As it's far easier for children to pick up a language than it is an adult, you're letting them take advantage of their youth to learn something you can easily teach them. Which could even lead to bigger things when they are older.
And even if they never use that second language for anything more than speaking with family, or while visiting. I've read that children who are bilingual have learning advantages - the act of learning two languages helps their brains develop. So if that's true, you're also giving them greater abilities in other areas.
I dont' have the choice of teaching my children a second language, so for me that place is taken up by music. I want my children to learn, understand and play music from an early age for similar reasons. They can use their knowledge for education or simply for pleasure later on, and the act of learning music also helps develop their brains.
this is really moving. thank you for sharing your story.
That's the most frightening photo I've ever, ever seen. Someone save that child! Quick!
I just cried a little and it is way too early in the morning for that kind of nonsense ;)
I wish I had some great cultural heritage to impart to my child. You know, something besides "our family doesn't talk about poop at the dinner table".
As someone who struggled to learn a 2nd language growing up, I'm so impressed with you teaching your kids the language. I hope to hear you say, "Please stop snoring" in Lithuanian IRL soon.
Wow! This is such an awesome story. As someone who immigrated with my parents from said oppressor country (Russia) at a young age and made it one of my priorities to have my (unborn and unconcieved as of yet) children speak Russian, I often wonder what kind of perspective on Russia they'll have being the first generation born in America-will it seem remote to them? Will their vocabulary also be behind? My husband is Russian, too, which will make it easier, but since he came when he was small as well, we are both Americanized, and I think about this kind of stuff lots and lots. Thanks!
thank you for sharing this
That photo is AMAZING.
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