You might have heard the common grouse parents have in recent years, stating how terrible their kids are in Mandarin/Chinese, very much unlike how we grew up to become effectively bilingual. For most of us, at least.
Yesterday, it struck me that this phenomena has happened with my own kid.
You see, the realisation hit me when Summer played teacher to me and little Zavier on the whiteboard, a recently recurring night activity while the 3 of us wait for Mama Toh to finish her lengthy night beauty regime/beauty shower/pseudo-spa.
Something like this
For the fun of it, I decided to ask her to give us a Chinese lesson, which she gladly agreed to (I don’t think she realized her limitation yet).
While it progressed fine, for the first sentence or so at least, she eventually started to stutter and paused… ultimately replacing words she didn’t know with English. You know, like what teachers will call Rojak language.
I was quite shocked, given that my parents speak to both my kids in Mandarin on a daily basis. But I guess on hindsight that isn’t quite enough.
So on the spot, I decreed (strong word, I know) that every alternate weekday would be a Mandarin day, whereby we ONLY speak in Mandarin at home.
Let’s hope this works.
Their Mandarin should be as good as their outfit