While reading about the concept of cultural memory in Chapter 11 of Crowley & Hawhee's book on Ancient Rhetorics, I was reminded of an experience that I had this past weekend.
I have the pleasure of living with a host family here in Luxembourg. They are welcoming, loving, and kind; essentially any American student's dream. As usually happens with welcoming, loving, and kind people, my host family is actively engaged in the local community. Their youngest daughter, Lara, was recently featured in the newspaper due to her efforts to take care of refugees at a nearby center. She explained to me that it is a project run by a good friend of hers.
Last Saturday night, my roommate and I were invited to tag along with the family and watch Lara, her older sister Taziana, and their two friends play at a concert held at a nearby elementary school. The location of this concert should have been a dead giveaway as to the type of concert it was, but even so, I went in blind.
The concert was for a charity, to help sick kids. This was all my host mom was able to translate for me, but I got the idea. It was a classic community fundraiser. Being a part of it was perfect for me, as I got to observe the event and compare it to community fundraisers that I had been a part of at home in America.
Commonalities between the two were abundant. For one, the event was held inside an elementary school, which is a typical neutral spot. When a community event is held, it must always be somewhere that is public. This eliminates the risk of exclusive airs or pretention, and also eliminates the cost of a venue. Fundraisers among community members must be modest. After all, they are asking for money.
Another commonality was the structure of the event itself. Before the concert began, people were milling about, drinking beer and juice and shooting the breeze. Our host parents had invited two other couples to come and join them; a classic neighborhood gesture. As the time for the event drew near, the members of the crowd made their way to their seats, chatting excitedly all the way.
Young, high-school and college-age volunteers ran the event, and were set apart from the crowd through their custom-made T-shirts. One gentlemen handed out wristbands that lit up, which was a step up from the typical Livestrong bracelet that my American self was used to. Once we were ushered into our seats, the lights were dimmed, a man stepped to the front of the stage, and a spotlight appeared. He gave a speech, in Luxembourgish, introducing the show and thanking everybody for coming. It was like any other charity concert that I had attended, just in a different language.
Seeing the concert and acting as a member of the community not only made me feel as though I was making progress towards assimilation, but it also opened my eyes to the ways that socialization and discourse shape who we are and how we communicate. Community is not possible without these ideas, values, and ways of speaking to each other.
As James Paul Gee so eloquently puts in his essay on social linguistics (which I will dive into deeper in my next post), "we are not each a single who, but a series of different who's in different contexts". This observation rang true at the show, where my host parents were members of a local community, neighbors, proud parents, "with the band", and generous donors.
The inclusion of various languages throughout the show was another manifestation of this idea: French, English, and Luxembourgish were all used freely and interchangeably throughout the evening. This would never have happened in America, where we stick to one language, and one language only (unless it is a specifically cultural event, like "Latin American Pride", or what have you). There are many different who's and many different contexts for Luxembourgers, but they never seem to lose themselves in the shuffle. Rather, they have more dynamic and versatile identities. However, they can still pick me out as an outsider from a mile away. More on that later, though.
I have the pleasure of living with a host family here in Luxembourg. They are welcoming, loving, and kind; essentially any American student's dream. As usually happens with welcoming, loving, and kind people, my host family is actively engaged in the local community. Their youngest daughter, Lara, was recently featured in the newspaper due to her efforts to take care of refugees at a nearby center. She explained to me that it is a project run by a good friend of hers.
Last Saturday night, my roommate and I were invited to tag along with the family and watch Lara, her older sister Taziana, and their two friends play at a concert held at a nearby elementary school. The location of this concert should have been a dead giveaway as to the type of concert it was, but even so, I went in blind.
The concert was for a charity, to help sick kids. This was all my host mom was able to translate for me, but I got the idea. It was a classic community fundraiser. Being a part of it was perfect for me, as I got to observe the event and compare it to community fundraisers that I had been a part of at home in America.
Commonalities between the two were abundant. For one, the event was held inside an elementary school, which is a typical neutral spot. When a community event is held, it must always be somewhere that is public. This eliminates the risk of exclusive airs or pretention, and also eliminates the cost of a venue. Fundraisers among community members must be modest. After all, they are asking for money.
Another commonality was the structure of the event itself. Before the concert began, people were milling about, drinking beer and juice and shooting the breeze. Our host parents had invited two other couples to come and join them; a classic neighborhood gesture. As the time for the event drew near, the members of the crowd made their way to their seats, chatting excitedly all the way.
Young, high-school and college-age volunteers ran the event, and were set apart from the crowd through their custom-made T-shirts. One gentlemen handed out wristbands that lit up, which was a step up from the typical Livestrong bracelet that my American self was used to. Once we were ushered into our seats, the lights were dimmed, a man stepped to the front of the stage, and a spotlight appeared. He gave a speech, in Luxembourgish, introducing the show and thanking everybody for coming. It was like any other charity concert that I had attended, just in a different language.
Seeing the concert and acting as a member of the community not only made me feel as though I was making progress towards assimilation, but it also opened my eyes to the ways that socialization and discourse shape who we are and how we communicate. Community is not possible without these ideas, values, and ways of speaking to each other.
As James Paul Gee so eloquently puts in his essay on social linguistics (which I will dive into deeper in my next post), "we are not each a single who, but a series of different who's in different contexts". This observation rang true at the show, where my host parents were members of a local community, neighbors, proud parents, "with the band", and generous donors.
The inclusion of various languages throughout the show was another manifestation of this idea: French, English, and Luxembourgish were all used freely and interchangeably throughout the evening. This would never have happened in America, where we stick to one language, and one language only (unless it is a specifically cultural event, like "Latin American Pride", or what have you). There are many different who's and many different contexts for Luxembourgers, but they never seem to lose themselves in the shuffle. Rather, they have more dynamic and versatile identities. However, they can still pick me out as an outsider from a mile away. More on that later, though.