Three years. That’s how long we were supposed to be in Germany.
I had come on an expat contract, a comfortable cushion for a short international stint. My wife and I agreed from the beginning—our two sons would study in an international school, and after three years, we’d return to India. Simple plan.
But life, as always, had its own script.
The original plan—live abroad for a few years, gain international experience, let the kids enjoy the exposure of a global school, and return home. Our children were admitted to an international school where the language of instruction was English, and the community was diverse. Everything felt relatively familiar, manageable. Life was exciting but also comfortably structured.
In those first three years, our children thrived in the international school system. They made friends from every continent, participated in school events, and spoke in fluent English with ease. Academically, they were doing well—getting good grades, finishing their assignments, enjoying the creative teaching methods. As parents, we felt relieved that the transition wasn’t as rough as we had feared. Our role was mostly supportive, but not deeply hands-on. Everything was in English. Teachers communicated with us regularly. Life rolled on smoothly.
But by the time we approached the end of our third year, something unexpected happened. We sat down as a family to plan the move back to India—and both kids, to our surprise, resisted. They didn’t want to leave. Germany had become their world. They loved the freedom, the parks, the cycling tracks, the multiculturalism, and the sense of order in everyday life. Leaving behind their friends and lifestyle didn’t feel right to them. After weeks of discussions, emotional conversations, and practical calculations, we—like so many immigrant families—decided to stay.
But there was a condition we had always been clear about: if we were going to stay in Germany for the long haul, our kids would have to transition into the German schooling system. The international school was great, but it wasn’t sustainable long-term—neither financially nor culturally. We didn’t want them to grow up isolated from the language, the people, or the realities of the country they were calling home.
And so began the second chapter of our parenting journey—one filled with uncertainty, frustration, and more tears than we care to admit.
The admission process into a German Gymnasium (the academically focused high school track) was our first real test. Neither of us spoke German beyond the basics. Suddenly, the world around us—emails from schools, government letters, forms, websites, helplines—was in a language we could barely understand. There was no central application system. Every school had its own process. Phone calls became nightmares. We relied heavily on Google Translate, line by line, tab by tab. Every email response took us hours to draft, because we weren’t sure if we were being polite, clear, or even making sense.
We felt helpless. We were educated, experienced professionals—but this made us feel small. We missed the familiarity of systems back home. We missed being able to just walk into a school and speak to someone. Here, everything had to be formal, written, and in German.
But if there’s one thing we’re grateful for, it’s the structured nature of the German system. Once we understood the process—thanks to online forums, other immigrant parents, and yes, Google Translate—we began to find our footing. Step by step, form by form, we managed to get both our children admitted to a local Gymnasium.
That sense of victory was short-lived. Because what followed next was far more difficult than any admission form.
The cultural and academic transition hit our children like a storm. In the Indian system, performance is largely measured by tests and assignments. There’s clarity. You know what to study, how to score, and how you’re being evaluated. But in the German Gymnasium system, grading is far more holistic and—frankly—vague. It’s not just about getting the right answers. It’s about classroom participation, organization skills, behavior, neatness of notebooks, discipline in doing homework, punctuality, oral presentations, and more. Every little detail matters.
Our boys, who had always been high scorers in India, suddenly couldn’t find their footing. They didn’t know what teachers expected. Even after studying, they’d score a 3 or 4 (which felt like a failure coming from a world of 90+ marks). And the 1-to-6 grading system added to the confusion. Unlike in India, where 90 is excellent and 40 is fail, here a ‘1’ means top performance, and a ‘5’ is barely passing. A ‘6’ means you’ve failed. But no one tells you exactly what earns a 1 or a 3.
We did what we thought was right—we hired tutors. Native speakers, trained teachers, some online, some in-person. We hoped one-on-one support would help the boys adapt faster. But nothing seemed to change. The grades stayed the same. The kids were demotivated, frustrated, and scared. We were heartbroken.
We couldn’t help with homework because we didn’t understand the assignments. We couldn’t interpret the feedback because it was in German and often indirect. And the worst part was not knowing what was going wrong. We had no answers, and neither did our children. We felt like we were losing them academically and emotionally.
The anxiety affected the whole family. Dinner conversations became tense. We tried to be encouraging, but inside, we were panicking. Had we made the wrong decision? Were we damaging our kids’ confidence and future?
Then one evening, while trying to understand a writing assignment for German class, we turned to ChatGPT. Out of sheer desperation, we typed the assignment in English, asked for help with writing structure, and hoped for the best. To our surprise, ChatGPT didn’t just translate—it explained. It helped us understand what reflective writing meant. It broke down abstract ideas. It pointed out how to argue a perspective, how to link paragraphs, how to express opinions in an academic tone.
We started using it more often, especially for German language assignments. Of course, it didn’t write things for our kids—but it helped us help them. Slowly, we began to understand what German teachers were looking for. We started showing our kids how to prompt, how to ask for examples, how to check for grammar corrections. ChatGPT became our invisible tutor, available 24/7, patient and consistent. But even then, we had to become prompt pros—learning to ask the right questions in the right way to get meaningful help.
Was it a magical solution? No. The struggle continues. Our children are still adjusting. Some days are better than others. There are subjects where the language barrier still holds them back. There are grades that still hurt. But now, we have hope. We’re no longer completely in the dark.
As parents, we’ve changed too. We’ve become learners again. We’ve learned to navigate the unknown, to let go of the need to control everything, to accept our children’s struggles with empathy instead of panic. We’ve learned that being present is more important than being perfect. And we’ve discovered that asking for help—whether from a neighbor, a tutor, or an AI chatbot—is not weakness but wisdom.
This journey has tested us in ways we never expected. But it has also brought us closer, not just as parents, but as a family. We don’t know what the next few years will look like. But now we believe that our kids, armed with resilience and growing language skills, will find their way.
There is still a long road ahead. But finally, there is also light—dim at times, flickering, but steady. And we are walking toward it. Together.
This journey also led us to create Preplings—a platform born from our own struggles. Preplings is a supportive learning environment built especially for children like ours—immigrant children who feel lost in a foreign education system. With Preplings, we’re not just offering language lessons or grammar drills. We’re building confidence. We provide AI-powered writing feedback, interactive speaking practice, and tools to help children understand what’s expected in German academic tasks. It’s designed to complement school, not replace it—and most importantly, it speaks the language of empathy and experience.
We know we are not alone. If you are a parent new to Germany, trying to make sense of it all, here are a few things we wish we had known earlier:
🌱 Tips for New Families Moving to Germany with School-Going Kids
- Start Learning German Early—As a Family Even a few months of exposure before moving helps. Apps are great, but structured online/offline classes give a better foundation. Let your kids hear German daily, even if it’s just cartoons or songs.
- Understand the Schooling System Before Choosing a School Germany has multiple school types—Grundschule, Hauptschule, Realschule, Gymnasium. Your child’s path is decided early. Research and visit schools in advance if possible.
- Expect a Culture Shock in Grading Don’t panic if your child scores a 3 or 4. In Gymnasium, a “3” is still okay, and continuous improvement matters. Teachers also value soft skills: participation, behavior, independence.
- Use Tech Tools Smartly ChatGPT, DeepL, Google Translate, and Preplings can be your best allies. Use them to understand, explain, and learn—not to copy answers but to unlock understanding.
- Connect with Other Immigrant Families Whether through Facebook groups, WhatsApp, or school communities, find others like you. Shared experiences can save hours of trial and error.
- Emotional Well-being Is as Important as Academics Watch for signs of anxiety, withdrawal, or loss of self-confidence. Be open to counseling if needed. Remind your kids (and yourself) that they are not failing—they are adapting.
- Document and Celebrate Small Wins Whether it’s understanding a German worksheet or participating in class for the first time, celebrate the effort. It means everything to a child trying to belong.
Check out preplings.com here. If you are interested in my other blogs, do check them out here.
Do not forget to write a comment below after reading. Its free!
Disclaimer: The information presented in this post is provided for general informational purposes only. The author makes no representations or warranties of any kind, express or implied, about the accuracy, completeness, reliability, suitability, or availability of the information. Any reliance you place on such information is strictly at your own risk.
The author does not endorse or take responsibility for the content, products, services, or any other material mentioned in this post. The inclusion of links or references to third-party websites does not imply endorsement or guarantee their accuracy.
Readers are advised to independently verify and fact-check information presented in this news post before making any decisions or taking any actions based on the content. The author shall not be liable for any errors or omissions in this information nor for the availability of this information. The author will not be liable for any losses, injuries, or damages from the display or use of this information.
