There are battles that are fought with swords and armies, and then there are battles lost in silence. This is one of them.
Across India, in homes filled with rich history, tradition, and culture, a quiet surrender is taking place. A generation is growing up estranged from its own language—not by force, but by choice. Parents who themselves were raised in their mother tongue, surrounded by grandparents, uncles and aunts, are now speaking to their children in English, a language of business, diplomacy, and ambition.
A child’s mind is a vast and wondrous landscape, absorbing not just words but the entire world that those words reveal. In those early years, when language is still forming, every word carries not just meaning, but rhythm, culture, and identity.
If we look at the philosophies of Maria Montessori, Waldorf, or Steiner, or any of the educators, we will find a shared understanding of what children need at different stages of their development:
- 0 to 6 years: Children seek emotional connection and trust with their primary caregivers. This stage is marked by curiosity, imagination, and a natural desire to explore the world around them.
- 7 to 14 years: They begin to understand structure—both in learning and in moral development. This is when they start recognizing boundaries and their place in the world.
- 13 to 18 years: A phase of self-discovery, independence, and personal expression. There’s often a struggle between understanding oneself and fitting into societal expectations.
- 19 to 25 years: A period of growth, mastery, and refinement. Young adults explore different paths, develop expertise, and continuously question and evolve their sense of self.
Across all the growth stages, there is a continuous back-and-forth between “Who am I?” and “How do I relate to what I see at home?” The home environment becomes a benchmark, a point of calibration, influencing how far or close we, throughout out life, choose to stay to its values, language, and traditions.
So, when a child loses their mother tongue, they not just lose a language,
- they lose the lullabies of their childhood,
- they lose the the wisdom hidden in proverbs,
- they lose the names and awareness of food that are like medicines to the body,
- they lose the warmth of words that cannot be translated.
- they lose a a way of thinking and seeing the world, and
- they lose a way of expressing emotions that do not neatly fit into another language.
(Have we all had that schoolteacher who tried to translate a joke from their language into English—only for it to fall completely flat?)
What Language Does to the Brain
Research is clear: children who grow up multilingual are not confused, but cognitively stronger. If we look at the history of humans, language has always been about cognitive development – it’s only in recent history that we see it has led to identity development.
- A child with two languages is learning two different ways of structuring the world, a more instinctive way of understanding cultural nuances without feeling disconnect. Multilingual children switch between perspectives faster because language shapes thought.
- Learning in one’s mother tongue first makes it easier to learn other languages. A strong foundation in one’s native language builds the neural pathways that help with acquiring additional languages—not the other way around.
- Children who engage with multiple languages show better problem-solving skills, adaptability, memory and yes – empathy. The brain is not burdened by multiple languages; it is enriched by them.
What I Have Seen from Personal Experience
When I taught at an international school (IB curriculum) in Bangalore, directly working with children from 14 different countries, I began to notice how Indian parents—particularly those from affluent backgrounds—approached their mother tongue differently.
“English will give them more opportunities,” they said.
“They find it easier,” they reasoned.
“They don’t respond in our language,” they sighed, and over time, they let it go.
When some of the Indian families moved from abroad, language took the least priority. “There is already so much change—in our child, in the environment. A language shift is something we will deal with later,” they said.
But in the same classroom, I saw a stark contrast. German and East European expat parents ensured their children remained fluent in their mother tongue. These families, too, would eventually return to their home countries, yet learning their native language was non-negotiable. Their children joined online classes, matched time zones, and practiced reading and writing to meet the academic expectations back home. It wasn’t a debate. It wasn’t a matter of convenience. It was simply what had to be done.
This contrast stands out even more today, when Telangana has made Telugu compulsory in schools, sparking debates on whether such a mandate is necessary. It is a welcome change or a burden – depending on which political party you support. And I am left wondering – “Where is the problem? The child is getting a golden opportunity to learn a language!”
What We Can Do
The answer is simple, but it requires intentions.
1. Speak, and They Shall Follow
Speak to your child in your mother tongue, even when they reply in English. Speak, though they resist, though they roll their eyes, though they claim not to understand. Language is not taught—it is absorbed, like the air they breathe, long before they ever utter their first words. Do not waver. Persist. For it is not the duty of a parent to cater to a child’s whims, but to do what is right by them. We are not here to entertain; we are here to equip.
2. Do not correct them.
Let them stumble, let them falter, let them make a mess of grammar and syntax. That is the only way they will learn to claim the language as their own. Just as a child topples before they walk, just as a bird is cast from the nest before it soars, mastery comes only through mistake and misstep. Language is no different. Remember all those families that speak the same language, but dialect and tone of each family member is different? That’s how we come to own it.
3. Create an authentic world where the language lives and breathes.
Look, I passionately believe that our mother tongues matter, not just for the past but for the future of our children. Let our homes be a magical place where our mother tongue is not merely spoken but lived. Let it sing in lullabies, resound in stories, romanticized through cinema. When we surround them with the sounds of our heritage, we are not simply teaching them words – we are giving them living tools that help our children navigate an increasingly complex world.
For when language dies, it does not go quietly. It does not vanish in a single generation but crumbles, piece by piece, until one day, a child looks upon the words of their ancestors and sees only dust. But where it is nurtured, it does not merely survive—it endures.
And so, speak.
Speak now, speak always, and in doing so, hand your child not just a language, but a world.
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