Claudia, A German Woman’s Perspective
My wife, Barbara, and I met Claudia Radczun-Polk on our first overseas trip together in 1998. Our first stop on that trip was Miltenberg, a charming town on the Main River about 50 miles from Frankfurt. I asked about local attractions at the tourist office and was introduced to Claudia, a school teacher who led tours on the weekend. Barb and I were Claudia’s only guests that day, so we enjoyed a personal guided tour of the town as Claudia pointed out the important sights as well as details that appear in no guidebook, such as the old woman who makes and sells lace doilies out of her tiny, medieval dwelling. Claudia invited us to her home the following day, Mother’s Day, to meet her parents and five-year-old son, Nikolas. It was Spargelzeit (asparagus season), and we enjoyed delicious white asparagus dishes in the Radczuns’ beautiful garden-like back yard.
We visited Claudia on our 2011 trip with our daughter, Christina, as well; she took the three of us to an off-the-tourist-trail outdoor restaurant where she and Christina enjoyed rapport as two professional educators. Naturally I wanted to include her on my itinerary this time. It would be a pleasure to begin my three-week research mission with a friend, of course, but Claudia could also provide unique insights into key questions about German-American marriage and education in Germany.
Upon landing at the Frankfurt airport, I boarded a local train to Miltenberg stopping at every cow town. There were no vacancies in Miltenberg because of the Father’s Day holiday, so I took a cab to Hotel Centgraf, in adjacent Bürgstadt.
The next morning, after breakfast at the hotel, I walked to Miltenberg—about two kilometers. Passing through the city gate at the east end of Miltenberg, I found Claudia’s place next to the city gate and wall—a historic location on Miltenberg’s main street, but far enough from tourist traffic to be serene.
Claudia is justifiably proud of her home—on three levels, fully modernized inside but with touches of antiquity, such as the incorporation of original beams and views of the city wall from her patio.
Claudia had graciously cleared her calendar on this Thursday—a school holiday. She led me through the touristy center of town to the newly-developed riverfront. The parklike setting attracted Miltenbergers young and old, strolling, picnicking, skateboarding, and watching the cruise ships on the Main. A fountain in front of the public WC recalls the days before the city was protected by flood barriers and boys were wont to add to the liquefied main street.
We then wandered up to the ruins of a twelfth century castle that once controlled traffic on the river and the recently-built art museum on the castle grounds, where we sat and talked.
An Interracial, Cross-Cutural Marriage
As a curious college student in Würzburg during the mid-1980s, Claudia was attracted to clubs frequented by Black G.I.’s. She was drawn to the music and interested in meeting people from different backgrounds. During one such outing, a man from Texas, Ted Polk, asked her to dance. Ted was a bio-chemical engineer and spoke some French. He read classics. Claudia was interested. They dated, and eventually, Ted moved into the house Claudia shared with her parents.
Claudia accompanied Ted on a visit to his family in Galveston, Texas twice: once before they were married, and once after their son, Niklas, was born in 1992. His family of professionals accepted Claudia, albeit with occasional remarks about her being “just a teacher.” Claudia was shocked to hear her in-laws refer to poor Blacks as “niggers.” She asked why they would use that word in front of her. “You’re not white,” was the response, “you’re German.”
Claudia was more curious about the American culture than Ted was about German culture. Nevertheless, Claudia never entertained the thought of moving to the United States; her educational credentials would be useless there. Discrimination would be another fact of life in the States. Even in Germany the mixed couple, encountered some resistance. Once, for example, they were accosted by a woman in Nürnberg: “Why are you, a pretty German girl, wearing a Dirndl (a traditional Bavarian dress), with that American?”
Ted was sent to Iraq during Desert Storm. Even back in Germany, however, Ted was away a lot, sometimes as a soldier in the field and sometimes playing the field. Claudia’s tolerance was stretched to the limit by Ted’s philandering, but it snapped when it came to Niklas’ welfare. One day, when Ted was supposed to be watching Niklas, he fell sound asleep. Little Niklas crawled out of the house. Claudia’s mother discovered the baby in the garden, eating weeds. Claudia questioned Ted’s commitment to the marriage and suggested that they live apart. They divorced in 1995.
Ted left the Army after ten years of service, moved back to the States, and remarried. Niklas is now an engineering student in Zurich and is considering a move to Copenhagen when he graduates. Unbeknownst to Ted, Niklas, a dual German-American citizen, has kept in contact with his American half-brother.
After this heavy discussion of personal matters, Claudia and I walked down from the castle to the historic Gasthof Zum Riesen, where we had lunch, and then back to Claudia’s place. We settled into chairs on her patio, and she looked over the 83-item questionnaire I had compiled for my research. As an educator, Claudia appreciated my earnest quest for answers and addressed each category with academic rigor. Claudia had answered many of the questions in the course of our previous conversations, but she ticked off the remaining topics with the authority of a professional educator and well-informed social observer. Her qualifications include experience as a special education teacher, therapist, and troubleshooter within the school system. She is called upon to advise courts, parents, other teachers, and school administrators in the placement of students. “To work in Germany,” she stated, “one must have the proper educational credentials.”
The Bavarian Educational System
There are variations among the sixteen states (Länder) in Germany, according to Claudia, but she described the educational system in Bavaria, the area of my strongest interest. Children attend four years of Grundschule (grammar school) beginning at age six. Based on a test of general knowledge and math after fourth grade, students attend one of three types of school: The Mittleschule (middle school) comprises grades five to nine. The Mittleschule tracks for trades, such as butcher, baker, etc. Mittleschule students have an option to take tenth grade, depending upon their progress, and obtain a Realschule diploma. The Realschule comprises grades five to ten and tracks for jobs in administration and the technical professions. Students who score high enough on the test at the end of fourth grade may attend Gymnasium, which comprises grades five to twelve or thirteen and tracks for university study.
I asked Claudia about her own classroom teaching experience. She showed me the math textbook she uses for her sixth grade Realschule students. It appeared to be equivalent to a high school math text in the U.S. Claudia described an exercise that she devised for her special education students. She constructed a six-liter cylinder covered in gold foil. She gave her students the task of calculating the value of that volume of gold. That entailed calculating the mass of gold, converting its mass to troy ounces, and looking up the current value of gold. To engage students in critical thinking about democracy, Claudia posited an election among three parties: the “Asshole” party, the “Nice” party, and the “Free Beer for All” party. Students debated the merits of each party. Their initial opinions actually changed as they listened to one another and considered the consequences of the politicians’ promises being carried out. It occurred to me that many American adults could learn something from Claudia’s sixth grade special education students.
The German Worldview
Claudia scrutinized the questionnaire that I had constructed with the help of my own students in Wisconsin. Regarding World War II and the Holocaust, she said, “Everyone has seen the movies and knows about the Holocaust.” She confirmed my own observations that the Nazi era crimes against humanity are not swept under the rug. In Nürnberg, the spiritual heart of the Third Reich, for example, the Documentation Center at the Nazi Party Rally Grounds, a permanent exhibition at the Palace of Justice, the Road of Human Rights, and many historical markers around the city testify to the nation’s determination never to forget that dark chapter in Germany’s past.
Comparing Germans’ worldview to that of Americans, Claudia said, “In Europe, one can drive two hours and be in a different country, with a different language, different food, and different customs. We are aware that the world is comprised of all kinds of people, whereas in the States, you think that the way you are is the only ‘right’ way.”
Asked about politics, Claudia stated that the majority of Germans are anti-Trump. Having been under America’s protection during the Cold War, Germans came to look upon the U.S. almost as parents. “Under Trump,” said Claudia, “ we feel betrayed by the United States—like being lied to by our parents.”
The end of the Cold War and the reunification of Germany were, of course, central to Germans’ identity. Claudia recalled that when East German officials waffled on reunification in 1989, people interpreted that as a signal and massed at the border. Guards refused order to shoot and then ignored mass crossings. Claudia’s father was from Leipzig, so her family had always made an annual trip to the East to visit Claudia’s Uncle Peter and her cousin. When the wall fell, her cousin called from a telephone booth, and Claudia’s family met him halfway. The end of Communist rule in East Germany was not without suffering, however. With the loss of government control, Claudia’s uncle’s firm closed. He lost his job and drank himself to death. With the easing of Cold War tensions, unified Germany has not had military conscription for five years.
Shopping
Shopping is a social activity for Germans. Based on her travels in the U.S. and study of American culture, Claudia thinks that in-store shopping is more popular in Germany than it is in the States. “Here, people may research products online, but they prefer to patronize local merchants.” She noted that, even in her small city, there are eight supermarkets nearby. On the subject of culture, she added, “Never ask Germans about their job or income; often, a husband or wife doesn’t even know the spouse’s income.”
Crime and punishment
Crime and punishment in Germany differ from the U.S. in many ways. Punishment, for example, is less severe. Children under fourteen do not go to jail, but they go to a special home for education. Offenders from fourteen to twenty-one receive psychiatric evaluation and may go to a hospital. The maximum jail sentence is ten years. Convicted criminals over twenty-one years of age may receive a maximum sentence of fifteen years, and then they are evaluated.
“No one carries a gun for protection,” stated Claudia. “If people had started shooting when that car ran over pedestrians in England, many more would have died.” Hunters must have a Waffenschein, a permit. They must prove that they have no criminal history. Guns and ammunition must be stored in separate rooms. Hunters rent land from farmers to cull wildlife and protect crops.
A driver’s license is likewise difficult and expensive to obtain. It takes months and costs at least 2,500 euros (about $2,700) for lessons and tests. Seventeen-year-old drivers must have a licensed driver in the car. Only at age eighteen may one earn full driving privileges. Not all young people want to drive, noted Claudia.
Childcare
Under Germany’s liberal social system, moms receive full pay six weeks prior to giving birth and eight weeks after delivery. Maternity benefits extend to a total of fourteen months at up to 1,800 euros a month for mother and father, divided as they see fit. The mother is guaranteed her job following maternity leave—and one hour per day for breastfeeding at work. A daycare subsidy is offered for children up to age three years of age. From three to six, children may attend Kindergarten.
My visit with Claudia had been fruitful and very enjoyable, but regular classes would resume the following day, and Claudia had three hours of preparation before she could sleep. Nevertheless, she insisted on driving me back to Bürgstadt. That night I dreamed of Nürnberg, my destination the following day, and my home as a young G.I.—the city that shaped much of my life.
Check back next week Thursday for the next chapter.
