"Ask a German": Taking the Invitation Seriously (And Why the "Too" Matters)

To promote my blog, I also post on Lemmy instances. In one instance called German, someone wrote:

If you want to ask a German in this context, feel free. A lot of things here make no sense to us, too.

I assume someone who has no idea about the context (being an immigrant in Germany) would easily interpret these sentences as a genuine offer to help (I still believe that it's the intention of the author of these words, but) and a sign that there are caring Germans along with the non-caring ones (which, fortunately, there are many of, and some of them are part of my social bubble).

But a) I didn't ask for such help, at least not in the post that I published to which they replied as such, and b) my former experiences tell me that when someone privileged and/or in a power position says that they also have similar problems, it tends to lead toward ignoring or belittling the unequal treatment that the other side experiences.

In academic discourse, this move is identified as "derailing." As Barbara Applebaum (2010,16) explains: "The focus of the conversation is shifted from the systemic nature of racism to the individual intentions or feelings of the white person". By saying "we struggle too," the speaker—perhaps unintentionally—centers their own experience, effectively halting a deeper investigation into the specific structural barriers that immigrants face. Therefore, independent of the intention of the writer, I interpreted this as: "We, white Germans ("us"), are also ("too") struggling here in Germany with many things." I don't disagree with that sentiment, but my focus is on one specific aspect: how Germany deals with immigrants.

That small "too" struck me differently in this online context. I believe that, with good intentions, such words could be supportive and empathetic in personal, face-to-face interactions. But on a forum like this, it reminded me of a white German man I met a few times through a friend. He was in his 40s, with a hipster/alternative look, and probably middle or lower-middle class.

The first time I met him was at a home party. The event was impressive: people from diverse backgrounds, all friendly, in a modest three-room Altbau apartment. Two rooms served as separate dance floors with different DJs. Being in Berlin, I assumed he was left-leaning, and I am fairly certain he identifies that way, even attending demonstrations. However, Berlin's "cool kids" bubbles are mostly left-leaning (or at least present themselves as such), making it socially risky to appear otherwise.

The second meeting was at a theater play performed by minor refugees sharing their real stories. It was a very sad play, highlighting their struggles with German bureaucracy and their experiences as immigrants. After the play, we discussed it. He said that they—meaning white Germans, I assumed—also struggled with bureaucracy. I was shocked and unsure if I understood correctly. How could someone like him compare himself to children who had fled war and lost their parents? I only managed to respond, "But they are children and escaping war." He acknowledged, "Yes, of course, that is different," and then the conversation moved on to other, more mundane topics.

Both instances—the Lemmy comment and the theater conversation—left me with a similar unease. In both cases, there was this impulse to say "we also struggle," as if to equalize their experiences with those of immigrants. While I don't doubt that white Germans face their own difficulties, this framing can inadvertently obscure the specific discrimination and systemic barriers that immigrants face. It's a way of relating that, even if well-intentioned, can minimize rather than acknowledge the distinct nature of immigrant struggles.

This tendency to equalize experiences isn't just derailing—it's frustrating and hurtful. When Germans say "we also struggle," it reveals they have no real understanding of what immigrants face. They don't see their own privilege or recognize how their history, social attitudes, and language create barriers that simply don't exist for them.

So, taking their invitation seriously: here are questions about German society, culture, and history that I genuinely want answered:

These are questions that came to my mind—I'm not focusing on one particular topic, just asking whatever occurred to me. Some are serious inquiries about systemic issues, some are more personal observations, and yes, some are ways to vent frustrations.

1. Considering Germany's history, doesn't the country have a greater responsibility than most of the world to fight racism and discrimination?
2. If such a responsibility exists, how well and effectively has Germany fulfilled it so far?
3. If it has not been fulfilled, what do you think is the reason?
4. Why does German society still valorize work and productivity so intensely, even after the historical consequences of 'Arbeit macht frei' ideology? Why haven't you developed a stronger cultural critique of workaholism?
5. Why do so many Germans seem anxious and stressed in everyday interactions? What creates this atmosphere of constant complaint and tension?
6. Why do some of you trust the state so much?
7. Why do some of you fear doing something that the majority disapproves of?
8. Why do some of you prefer to talk to us instead of white Germans to alleviate your loneliness? (from B)
9. As a person struggling to learn German: why does a language that already has prepositions also need a case system with dative, accusative, and genitive? Could it function without them?
10. Why do most third-generation immigrants not identify as or see themselves as German?
11. Germany once produced towering critical minds—Marx, Hegel, Weber, Husserl, Benjamin, the Frankfurt School. Today, apart from Habermas and Honneth, where are the German critical thinkers? Why has contemporary social theory become mainly dominated by French and American voices? What happened to German intellectual self-reflection?

I would love to hear from you. This inquiry is a living document, and I am eager to expand this list of questions. If you are an immigrant living in Germany and have a question for a German person that you'd like to include, please share it.
Submit via this form or on mastodon as comments (see below).

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References

• Applebaum, B. (2010). Being White, Being Good: White Complicity, White Moral Responsibility, and Social Justice Pedagogy. Lexington Books.