My parents were unprepared for what happened. Their life was in Vienna. They had come from what were then other parts of the Austro-Hungarian Empire to its capital. It was a place that you went to, it was not a place that you left. They had no experience of living elsewhere as adults. They didn’t travel to other countries for visits or vacations. They came from very different backgrounds, and were very different people. But they had this in common: they built their lives in Vienna, and did not doubt its stability.
Theirs was a heroic generation. They were in mid-career, in familiar surroundings, and thought themselves to be part of a culture that they admired and knew intimately. They had struggled to reach a time in their lives with satisfying work and, in the case of my mother, a career with the promise of continued growth and greater creative possibilities.
Suddenly that life crumbled.
Suddenly that life crumbled. After a short time, nothing remained of what they had built. There was no way to know how or where or even whether they would be able to pick up some of the pieces of their existence. Whether to leave, and finding ways to leave, became obsessions. In addition to the bureaucratic obstacles, barely known and changing day by day, there were the personal ones for people like my parents, as they faced changes that they could not comprehend or foresee. Those who were able to leave found themselves moving into unknown territory, where people spoke a different language, with rules of life that were different, seemingly unknowable.
We hear most often about the famous, those who were at the top of their professions and could find sponsors and positions elsewhere. Then there were those who were affluent and had the knowledge and foresight to safeguard assets in other countries.
More often, there were those who were less favored, and who left with only the 10 shillings that they were allowed to take with them. They were forced to adapt to circumstances for which they had no experience, no guiding signposts, and none of the material resources that they had relied on. They found themselves dependent on strangers, in an environment that was often supportive, but could also be hostile.
As time went on there were few failures. The best rose to the top. Many had a strong and sometimes profound influence on their new communities.
I belong to the next generation, to those who had not finished school, and had not established themselves in adult life. It was much easier for us. We were younger, we learned new languages and new ways more easily. Most likely it was also because of the cultural values that had been impressed on us, with their emphasis on education and on work. We were more serious, less carefree than others of our age. We often had early responsibility for other family members. We were rooted in one culture and lived in another, with the opportunity to take from each. At the time the effort to fit in and to adapt dominated all else. It was only later that I realized that we were uniquely favored.
In many ways it is more difficult for those in the generation after us. They are natives. They didn’t experience the pressure to adapt to an alien culture, the uncertainties of the transition, or the urgency to succeed. We, their parents, can often help them in material ways that ours could not.
All that would seem to make it easier for them. But the special advantages that we had are not there for them. The knowledge of the previous culture is much attenuated. The early responsibilities and forced seriousness are absent. The legends of the trials and successes of the earlier generations can be intimidating and oppressive. Our presence can be dominating and demanding. We do not always know or understand the very different challenges in our children’s lives.
