The classroom where I teach Dutch is located in Amsterdam-West.
Tonight, as any other school night, students of all corners of the earth, of all walks of life, of all religions and ideologies are pouring in from every corner of the city.
Most come by bike, some by tram and others arrive on scooters.
People greet each other, hug, laugh, chat.
In the corridors leading to the classrooms, all kinds of languages are spoken. I hear Spanish, Arab, Russian, Kurdish, English, Polish, Farsi, Ukrainian.
I see caps, beanies, headscarves and ponytails.
As soon as my students enter the classroom, they switch to Dutch.
Inquiries are made about one’s job interview held in Dutch, whether someone else has passed her mandatory civics exam (“Ja!”), and when number three will move into his new eleven-square-meter rental room.
When it turns out that the move is due this weekend, Rayan from Lebanon, a resident of Amsterdam Nieuw-West and a bakfietsvader of a three-year-old girl, with whom he just celebrated ‘Sint Maarten’* in their neighborhood, immediately offers his help.
As he always does whenever he thinks someone is in need.
Rayan’s help is gratefully accepted.
In the meantime, mouthfuls of figs, pistachios and chocolate are shared amongst the group.
Tonight we talk about ‘integratie’ and the Dutch ‘normen en waarden’.
Of course there is a variety of opinions, but the discussion is civilized.
No one makes unfounded assumptions or false claims.
No one profiles entire populations by their ethnicity. No one attacks, accuses, threatens or sows discord. Nobody uses insults or racist slurs.
Nobody rudely interrupts one another.
This way, they will never integrate into Dutch society, where in the heart of our democracy, the moral knights of our free and flourishing country set quite a different example, while having their mouths full of ‘het respecteren van onze Nederlandse normen en waarden’.
* According to lore, Sint Maarten was a medieval Catholic bishop who, when he was still a soldier, compassionately shared his red cloak with a beggar. This is celebrated in parts of the Netherlands on the evening of November 11. Children with lanterns knock on doors and receive candy after singing a song about this soldier turned saint.
I teach NT2 (Dutch as a second language), mainly to young internationals who came to Amsterdam for or with love and intend to stay. The conversations reproduced here were all held in Dutch. For privacy reasons the names are fictitious.
Talkin’ Lingo
De normen en waarden van een land respecteren - Respect the norms and values of a country
De bakfietsmoeder/vader - Dutch phenomenon of parents who pick up their children plus their playdates from school on a cargo bike