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Between Two Worlds – or in Both at the Same Time

14.11.2025.
Between Two Worlds – or in Both at the Same Time
There is more and more talk about diversity, identities, and the challenges of social coexistence, but we rarely see how these questions appear on the most intimate level of everyday life: in the family. Karolina Lendák-Kabók, associate professor at the ELTE Department of Minority Sociology, knows mixed marriages from personal experience as well. In her Momentum (Lendület) MIXED Research Project, she examines how mixed families shape identity, how they mediate between majority and minority, and in what ways “mixedness” can become one of the most important arenas of social dialogue.

How did you become interested in the topic of mixed marriages — was there a personal reason, or did professional interest lead you here?

Both. As a native of Novi Sad, I myself grew up in a multi-ethnic environment where the everyday coexistence of different languages, religions, and identities was natural. At the same time, in the Serbia of the 1990s, the Yugoslav wars, the arrival of refugees, and nationalist politics profoundly disrupted the coexistence of national minorities and the majority population. My maternal grandparents were in a mixed marriage: my grandmother was born into an old Serbian family from the Banat region, and my grandfather came from an equally old Hungarian family from the same area. During their marriage, my grandmother learned Hungarian well, while my grandfather had spoken Serbian since childhood — partly because of the majority environment, and partly due to his university studies. I spent a lot of time with them, and I clearly

remember the duality of identities: the harmony, but also the tensions rooted in ethnicity.

I experienced the phenomenon of “everyday nationalism” already as a child in this small micro-environment of ours. My parents, however, consciously oriented me toward a minority, Vojvodinian Hungarian identity, among other things by enrolling me in Hungarian-language education in Novi Sad. Although I had spoken Serbian since early childhood, the majority and minority communities existed in parallel in Novi Sad and met at only very few points.

Later, as a researcher, I became interested in how mixed marriages reflect these social dynamics: how they shape identity, how they influence family decisions, and in what ways they mediate between the majority and minority communities. Through my sociologically oriented research, I found that mixed marriage is not only an intimate space but also a political and social one — a kind of micro-world in which national, religious, and gender boundaries are continuously renegotiated. This topic allows us to understand the broader social processes of the region through individual life stories. With my Momentum (Lendület) MIXED Research Group (as well as in my earlier work),

we consciously focus on mixed marriages between national minorities and the majority,

since these relationships share not only a common geographical space but also a common historical experience — unlike mixed marriages resulting from migration, where one partner arrives in a completely foreign environment and tries to adapt.

What is your experience: in what ways is it different to live in a mixed family in Hungary and in the former Yugoslavia?

The essential difference between the two regions stems from their historical background and social attitudes. In the former Yugoslavia, especially in Vojvodina, multi-ethnic coexistence rested on centuries-old traditions. There, mixed marriage was for a long time not only accepted but, in certain periods, even supported by the state — for example, during Yugoslav socialism, when it appeared as a symbol of unity among nations. At the same time, the wars of the 1990s fundamentally shook this model: mixed families suddenly found themselves "caught in the crossfire", and were often forced to redefine their identities and loyalties. In the post-war period, having a mixed background tended to mean uncertainty and a sense of duality.

In Hungary, the situation is different: national homogenization is stronger, and mixed marriages bridge cultural or religious differences rather than linguistic-ethnic divides. At the same time, Hungarian society still carries certain prejudices toward “different” identities — though these are often less visible and more symbolic. In both contexts there is a shared experience: the everyday practices of mixed families — for example raising children, language use, or how holidays are celebrated — require a kind of everyday diplomacy, a balancing between different cultural expectations and identities.

What does the story of a mixed family reveal about broader social processes? What patterns emerge from historical sources and census data?

Historical sources clearly show that ethnically or religiously mixed marriages

have always been sensitive intersection points of social and political processes.

On the one hand, they often disrupted state- and nation-building projects, since the very existence of “mixedness” called into question the solidity of ethnic boundaries. On the other hand, they promoted secularization, social integration, and in many cases assimilation as well. If we look at the region — Hungary and the former Yugoslavia — mixed marriages sometimes served political regimes (for example by reinforcing the ideology of a unified nation), while at other times they crossed or challenged these ideological boundaries.

Thus, the history of mixedness can be understood as a continuous process of social negotiation, in which individuals’ decisions — whom they marry, what language they speak, which religion they follow — always reveal more about a given era than what appears on the level of private life alone. Overall, the history of mixed marriages shows how people sought to create their own room for manoeuvre within prevailing political and social structures, and how personal life became a reflection of the region’s diversity and its constant reconfiguration.

 

What influences the everyday life of mixed families the most — religion, material circumstances, or the acceptance of their environment?

In my experience, all three factors are important, though with different weight and in ways that change over time. Religion and language use traditionally play a decisive role in how harmoniously a mixed family can function. Religious differences — for example between Catholic and Orthodox partners, or between religious and secular ones — often appear in family rituals, celebrations, and even in child-rearing. Couples usually do not experience these differences as conflicts, but rather as a continuous space of negotiation in which they develop new, shared traditions.

At the same time, economic circumstances are crucial. A secure livelihood often softens ethnic differences, whereas financial insecurity can amplify them. During the wartime and post-war years of the 1990s, when economic hardship was widespread, ethnic belonging became more pronounced for mixed families, especially within the broader circle of their extended families.

And finally, perhaps the most decisive factor is the acceptance of the wider social environment. Mixed families function well when their broader community — relatives, neighbours, the school, the workplace — does not constantly question their existence. The lack of social acceptance is often invisible, yet it has a deep impact on everyday life: it shapes language choices, child-rearing decisions, and even the family’s identity strategies. One could say that

the everyday life of a mixed family becomes a continuous arena of "social dialogue".

Do you think a “dual” or “hybrid” identity is an advantage or a disadvantage in everyday life?

For me, a dual or hybrid identity is not a disadvantage but an opportunity — even if this opportunity often comes with difficulties. People who grow up in mixed families learn that identity is not exclusive, but layered, flexible, and dependent on context. In everyday life this means that they are able to move within multiple cultural codes, use several languages and interpretive frameworks, and respond more empathetically to difference. At the same time, this state is not always easy. “Belonging to both” often means that one does not feel completely at home anywhere. Young people with mixed identities, for instance, frequently face the experience that neither side of their environment fully sees them as “their own” — the majority may view them as outsiders, while the minority may see them as “lost.” All of this, however, does not weaken but rather strengthens the reflexive nature of identity.

People with hybrid identities are generally more sensitive to social differences, and they often become cultural mediators. I regard this diversity as one of the region’s greatest resources: a form of social experience that can help build bridges in an environment that is still strongly shaped by ethnicity.

Do men and women face different expectations in these relationships? Are there gendered differences in social expectations or family roles?

Yes, there is a definite difference, and this is one of the most interesting yet most complex dimensions of mixed marriages. In my research I have found that

women often carry the “invisible burden” of cultural mediation and identity preservation.

They are the ones who are primarily responsible within the family for transmitting language, religious customs, and patterns of child-rearing. The scholarly literature describes this by saying that women are “the mothers of the nation” — culture and ethnic identity are reproduced through them. At the same time, it is important to add that women are often more inclined toward assimilation as well. In many cases, they are the ones who give up certain elements of their own identity in order to move closer to the majority nation or to facilitate their family’s social integration. This is not necessarily a conscious decision but rather a form of adaptation (although pressure from the husband or the wider family may also be felt), through which they try to maintain the family’s harmony and stability.

Men, on the other hand, tend to face expectations related to external social integration — this often appears in the feeling that they should leave decisions about the language of their children’s schooling to women, because women are assumed to be the ones who will be more involved with the children. This is often the attitude of minority men, and as a result, when their children assimilate into the majority nation, they feel powerless, believing that if the child had attended school in the minority language, “their mother would not have been able to help with homework.”

These decisions and situations reflect deeply ingrained gender roles. In mixed marriages, therefore, men often move toward the majority language and the realm of “visible” integration from the outside, while women fight more to maintain cultural balance within the family — even when they themselves partially assimilate. These expectations are not rigid, of course, but they illustrate clearly that mixed marriages

mediate not only ethnic boundaries but gendered ones as well.

Through their different social roles, men and women each contribute to how the family interprets its own “mixed” identity. Women’s decisions — such as choosing the language of schooling or the language used at home — have a far greater impact on the survival of minority identity than is generally assumed.

And what about the children? How do they experience growing up in mixed families? More as enrichment or more as a dilemma? And how do they shape hybrid identities?

For children, a mixed family background represents both enrichment and dilemma. It is enrichment because they are exposed to two (or sometimes more) cultural worlds, they are socialized in multiple languages, and they learn early on that difference does not divide but connect. It is a dilemma because their environment often forces them to choose — in terms of language, religion, national belonging, and sometimes even the use of their name. Many interviewees said that their children’s identities are constantly in motion: they behave differently at home, at school, and in the majority environment. One mother, for example, recounted that they speak Hungarian at home, but her child “feels in Hungarian and thinks in Serbian” — this duality perfectly describes the delicate balance in which these children live.

The formation of hybrid identity is therefore not a static process, but a lifelong process of learning.

Children often manage this complexity better than adults, because for them multilingualism and cultural diversity are part of what feels normal. The question, rather, is whether society can shape its institutions — for example education or the media — in ways that ensure that these children do not have to give up any part of their identity.

Do you see new types of mixed marriages or family models among today’s younger generation?

Yes, definitely. Mixed marriages and relationships among today’s younger generation differ from earlier ones in several ways. While in the 20th century mixed marriage often stemmed from political, social, or geographical proximity, today it is much more the result of individual choice, mobility, and globalized lifestyles. In the digital age, borders are more permeable, and relationships are shaped far more by shared values, lifestyle, or ways of thinking than by ethnic or religious background. Among young mixed couples it is noticeable that they feel less need to choose exclusively between “one” identity or “the other.” They tend to develop more fluid, open forms of identity in which multilingualism and cultural diversity are taken for granted. At the same time,

this new openness does not necessarily mean the complete disappearance of tensions

— social prejudices and national discourses still exert influence, though often in more concealed ways. An interesting trend is that young mixed families choose international schools, multilingual upbringing, and flexible identity strategies more frequently. They are no longer living “between two worlds,” but belong to several worlds at once. In my view, this kind of openness may become one of the most important social patterns of the future in Central and Southeastern Europe — where the mixed family is no longer an exception, but one possible form of normality.

How do you envision the social use of the research results? Is it necessary or even possible to build educational or integration programs from them?

I am convinced that researching mixed marriages and hybrid identities is not only scientifically but also socially extremely important. In the Momentum (Lendület) MIXED Research Group, our goal is precisely to make historical and sociological findings part of public thinking. The stories of mixed families reveal a great deal about how multiple identities can coexist within a single society — and this is a fundamental question not only in Central and Eastern Europe but throughout Europe.

We would like to apply the research results on several levels. On the one hand, in scientific form — through studies, books, and international publications — and on the other hand in educational and community settings. I consider it particularly important to make this knowledge accessible to young people, teachers, and decision-makers as well. This is why we are working on educational materials that make issues of school multiculturalism, multilingualism, and acceptance more tangible. In addition, as part of the project, a digital “Mixed Marriages Map” is being created, which will present the stories of mixed families and their spatial and temporal development in an interactive way. Our aim is for this tool to promote not only research but also social dialogue — to demonstrate that

mixedness is not something exceptional, but one of the fundamental experiences of Central European societies.

I believe that this can lead not only to educational programs, but, in the long term, to more open and inclusive social narratives as well.