Raising a multicultural child in the UK: blending Persian and British traditions

Family might as well be on different planets

So, a little about me: I’m English, born in the North East, and my husband, H, grew up in Tehran. Our families, grandparents, aunts, uncles, siblings, live 4,000 miles apart, and they might as well be on different planets. It makes family gatherings, to put it mildly, … interesting.

Celebrating traditions, my way

People often ask if I celebrate Persian traditions here in the UK. Even our health visitor asked, as if I was secretly hiding a bowl of goldfish under the sofa. The answer is simple: no, not exactly. Marrying someone from a different culture isn’t about ticking off every tradition; it’s about teamwork and negotiation.

Blending cultures

Yes, there have been curveballs. But embracing H’s culture has been fun, and, surprisingly, unifying. On our wedding day, I might have laughed if someone told me I’d be dancing with a large knife in hand. And smashing eggs under a car’s tyres to ward off the evil eye? I would have assumed they were joking. Jumping over a fire? Too risky. Lentil sprouts tossed into a river? Eating kale pache, sheep’s head soup? Let’s just say my face probably told the full story.

Learning to embrace the unexpected

I loved every minute, even the soup. Over the years, our marriage has become a dance of two cultures, and when it came to naming our son, we didn’t argue, we agreed at the 12-week scan on Cyrus, and somehow, it just felt right.

Culture in daily life

Living with such a different culture has its missteps. There are misunderstandings, eye-rolls, and occasional “did you really just say that?” moments. But it has also taught us to blur lines, racial, nationalistic, cultural. I now take the lead in teaching Cyrus about his heritage, partly because our family can only watch him via video call. H’s mother hasn’t yet held him, which tugs at the heartstrings, but she expresses her love in stories, songs, and, when she can, cooking.

Learning as we go

Every day, we continue to learn about each other’s lives, histories, and traditions. Some days it’s fascinating, some days it’s baffling, and sometimes it genuinely feels like there’s a Berlin Wall standing between our families. And yet, somehow, we make it work. We virtually share stories, cook meals, and celebrate in ways that are uniquely ours.

It’s not perfect, but the imperfections are what make it real, and what make this little multicultural world of ours feel like home.

“We may feel as though our families are divided by a Berlin Wall, but we’re building bridges virtually one story at a time.”