My apologies for the post being so long, I wanted to include as much detail as possible, It is about how learning Yorùbá (TL) has altered my cultural perception and how we can help third culture kids get comfortable with their language:
So my family immigrated to the UK when I was 10 (about 25 years ago) from a sizeable city in SW Nigeria. Before the move, I and my two siblings (older one is 2 years older and younger one is 8 years younger) were surrounded by English speakers because my parents were academics and healthcare professionals, my primary school was English speaking only and full of middle class and expat children, our nanny was English speaking and so were the other hired help; I only really heard or spoke my native language of Yorùbá (TL) whenever we'd visit grandparents in the village they'd retired to (they were both headteachers during the colonial period so their transatlantic tinged English was also top level), they made an effort to speak Yorùbá to us but mainly, they also communicated in English with us. As a result, I could barely understand Yorùbá and speaking it was ATROCIOUS.
Fast forward to moving to one of the "-shire counties" in England, at this point, my younger brother hadn't started speaking as he was just barely 2yr. And although my English had that bit of a transatlantic accent (listen to old recordings of middle class Nigerians in the 80's and you'll understand what I mean) mixed with American going on thanks to pop culture, I didn't struggle with the posh people I was slung in with at the girls grammar school.
Around age 13-14 I started getting more and more racialised bullying targeting my ethnic features (to the point it affected my physical health and still affects my self esteem and sense of self worth to this day) and because I was shy too, I just couldn't keep up with defending myself in English so mum told me to start shouting any random yorùbá words that came to my mind in the heat of the moment at them because they'd guess it was an insult but they won't know what it meant so they'd be even more hurt/angry and won't be able to contest because they didn't know what I'd just shouted at them.
And I did and it worked 100%, as a bonus, it also led to me seriously learning the language in a very short space of time (I'm talking became able to hold medium level conversations in it within a couple of years), I did all this learning from both parents and grandparents alone who would visit us regularly as well as YouTube films with subtitles. Dad would also give me parables/idioms and ask me to translate them roughly or convert them to the closest English sensibilities as a lot of Yorùbá tends to be philosophical/talking in idioms.
I went from not being able to speak a sentence in Yorùbá to being able to hold full blown conversations before my 18th birthday. Although some words still elude me.
Compared to my older brother and younger brother, I am the most fluent in Yorùbá;
-My older one really struggles with understanding idioms and the heavy philosophical side of the language although he can speak it (he gets intonations wrong too).
-My younger brother doesn't speak it AT ALL. He seems to understand it, you can give him basic information and he'll understand and fulfil the tasks but he can't fit the life of himself utter a single sound in the language. It's as if a barrier exists between his brain and mouth when it comes to speaking.
We all grew up in places where we were usually the only visible people of colour in the area sometimes (I was the only black girl in my grammar school year from years 7-11), so there was zero chances to practice speaking any other languages apart from English until I went to university in a city near London. Same as both brothers, none of us got to experience talking different languages or interacting with different cultures until all three of us got to our respective universities. But despite this, I can speak basic to medium yorùbá and hold my own with a native speaker if their accent isn't too heavy and they're speaking a standard dialect, whilst my brothers cannot do any of this. And I'm wondering why this is the case?
Could my being bullied and deliberately embracing the language in my teens have led to such a huge difference in our grasp of the language?
How can I get my younger brother to speak the language? He really wants to start speaking it as a young adult now trying to get in touch with his cultural identity in the current political landscape. I've tried to get him to repeat words after me but it doesn't seem to be helping his confidence. How can I encourage him to get past this tongue tie like hesitation and seeming embarrassment at sounding wrong that his brain has with uttering any words in the target language?
Also, through immersing myself in the culture, it started me on a journey to decolonise and deconstruct my relationship with introduced religion, power and privileges and western ideals of beauty.
The main point the bullies used against me were that my African features and skin tone were extremely undesirable to the white boys around including my crush at the time. This was crushing as a teenage insecure girl who had no role models in media and no other representation around me except immediate family. I felt extremely ugly (and this has coloured my perceptions of myself till now and still affects my dating life negatively as a 33yr old single black woman: I abhor compliments about my features as I have deep rooted fear the person is being disingenuous and sarcastic to get me to lower my guard before they go in for the kill as my bullies used to do. At the time, all I had was this culture that might as well be alien in middle England, before afrobeats and jollof and fufu became popular. I tried to find beauty in yorùbá culture online and tried to be prideful of these features which were so far from western ideals of beauty. Learning rbr language opened me up to being able to watch early YouTube movies which featured dark skinned and gap teethed and full lipped women and this was a small bandage on the deep festering wound that being an unattractive black woman was in Britain at the time. And I also stepped away from the Abrahamic view of respect and honour etc. (I became an atheist anarcho-communist) .) Connecting to the culture through language immersion allowed me to accept my button nose, full lips and gap teeth as these features were directly praised in yorùbá; even if the mental damage was already done by the bullies in my formative years, at least I stopped saving up for cosmetic surgery. The language used to describe black women in the UK is still atrocious (bleak/bleak, UKBeast, mandem etc but learning Yorùbá opened me to a big ocean of self esteem reinforcement I can draw upon whenever the voice of self doubt and self harm rears it's ugly head even as an adult now. I want my younger brother to also have this background he can draw upon to bolster self esteem as a visible black man in today's United Kingdom.)
My final question is this:
Has learning a non western language/your ancestral language and immersing yourself in that culture helped you heal from racial/cultural/colonial trauma you might have experienced growing up in the west or adjacent to it? (This applies to people growing up in non western countries that also might have similar colonial trauma e.g Singapore, Ukraine, Hong Kong etc...)