Alternative forms of family already account for one quarter of all families.” “One fifth of the population lives alone.” “One in ten German households include at least one foreign citizen.” With increasing frequency the Federal Statistical Office announces figures that document the rapid development of new ways of living together. These trends are emerging against the background of demographic change, the emancipation of women and immigration into a modern, open society that is becoming more individualized and increasing mobile. One-person households, apartment shares, patchwork families, binational marriages, same-sex life partnerships and long-distance relationships have long since become established life choices. Although the two-child family remains the most common form of family, today the proportion of preschool children living in households based on life partnerships is the highest. Nevertheless, it cannot be said that the family is on the way out, because 72% of 12- to 25-year-olds believe you need a family to be happy. However, ideas of what a family is supposed to look like are steadily diverging. And the traditional family with strict role divisions – the father as breadwinner, the mother as housewife – is now only one of many different models.
Zeynep Yüksek, 27, doctor
Zeynep Yüksek comes from Istanbul and has lived in Frankfurt am Main for nine years. She studied medicine at Goethe University and is now working in a psychiatric clinic in Offenbach. Zeynep is single and has shared an apartment with Fabian in Ost-Zeil, Frankfurt’s main shopping street, since September.
Single in the City
Zeynep Yüksek opens the French window to the small balcony. Noise floods into the apartment. Below in the shopping street the neon signs of the discount clothes shops and the travel agencies shine brightly. The shopkeepers are closing up their shops. Gradually the Chinese, Vietnamese and Turkish restaurants are filling up.
“From here you can see the skyline.”
Zeynep likes the bustle of the city. She shuts the French window, puts on some film music and lounges on the armchair in the large living room with a glass of red wine. Work is over for the day. Her five-day job in psychiatry is strenuous. In the addiction ward she often has to deal with double diagnoses – with addiction combined with mental illness. But she knows how to cope. Yoga and her cultural interests help her compensate for the strains of her work. Yesterday, after a 24-hour shift, she saw the new film by Sophia Coppola: Somewhere. Where is she at home?
“In Frankfurt – and Istanbul. Frankfurt is cosmopolitan, international. Everyone here is a Frankfurter, no matter where they come from. I feel at home here. The airport is not far away. It only takes me six hours door to door. Five times a year I’m with my family in Istanbul. Frankfurt is my second home, but Frankfurt cannot replace Istanbul.”
Zeynep enjoys the freedom of her single life between two worlds. The only relevant partnership for her at the moment is that between the cities of Frankfurt and Istanbul.
Wolfgang Schott, 50, farmer
Maria Held, 53, teacher
Wolfgang Schott comes from the Vogelsberg Mountains, studied agriculture in Giessen and has been engaged in organic farming in his native Kirchbracht since 1981. His wife Maria comes from Emsland. She is a teacher at a vocational school in Nidda. They have three children. The two daughters Friederike, 27, and Johanna, 22, are studying at university. Henrik, 17, still goes to school.
Organic Farmer in the Country
The address says Unterdorf, which is a little confusing, because although it means “lower village”, the Regenbogenhof farm is actually on top of a hill. Wolfgang Schott moved up here and built a wooden house and a large barn, which he financed with organic farming. He farms 27 hectares and plants wheat, rye and spelt, which he harvests, mills and bakes into bread. He also cultivates fruit. The stout man with the thick mane of hair lets the barn door fall shut and goes into the house. The fire is alight in the fireplace; he puts on some more wood. His eyes glance through the window and across the hill.
“Leaving here never entered the equation. Vogelsberg people don’t like leaving their farms. They are attached to their home.”
And yet Wolfgang travels more than most city-dwellers. He drives almost 1,000 kilometres a week to sell fruit, vegetables and his home-baked bread at markets or in supermarkets or to perform his duties as chairman of the Bioland Association in Hesse. As an enthusiastic hiker, he sets off on the weekends to discover what lies behind the next hills. On good days he manages 100 kilometres. This evening the children are at home. Will they follow in his footsteps?
“First they have to leave. You need five years away so that you don’t go to pieces. Once you’ve got that out of your system you can come back again, no matter where you were in the world.”
Amelie Hartmann, 7, student
Anke Hartmann, 34, teacher
Daniel Stern, 29, art student
Alexander Schmidt, 39, doctor
Amelie Hartmann is the daughter of Anke Hartmann and Daniel Stern. They separated five years ago, but still live under the same roof at the market square in Bad Camberg – Anke with her daughter on the first floor, Daniel on the ground floor. For the last four years Anke has been together with Alexander Schmidt. He also lives in Bad Camberg, separated from his wife and two children.
Patchwork Family in a Small Town
Daniel puts an article he has torn out of the Frankfurter Allgemeine Zeitung on the kitchen table: “Feigned Happy Families – Is Patchwork Really the Model for the Future?” It is about this new way of living – finding happiness with new partners and children from earlier relationships. The article sees it rather critically, particularly the role of the children.
“We live in a patchwork family, but don’t accept this view. Our daughter is happy. It’s important to me to see my daughter growing up.”
Daniel sees his daughter every day. In fact, he sees her as often as he did before when he was still together with Anke. His degree course in art allows him to allocate his time relatively freely. He agrees everything with Anke, although that’s hardly necessary. They understand each other well. They often cook together in the evening. Alexander then also brings along his two children. He has them twice a week. They live with his ex-wife, who also has a new partner with two children. When Anke, Daniel, Alexander and the children sit at the table, the complicated family network does not worry them. On the contrary, Amelie is clearly at ease in company. And what do the neighbours think?
“That once would have been a reason to pack up and leave. Perhaps things are different in a city, but in Catholic Bad Camberg people used to whisper behind your back until the next couple separated.”
Will Anke soon move in with her boyfriend? Will Daniel find a new girlfriend? Everything is possible.
Barbara Mayer, 66, pensioner
Barbara Mayer comes from the Erzgebirge, studied in Berlin and since 1972 has lived in Darmstadt, where she taught at the university of applied sciences. The sociologist retired three years ago. For the last two years she has lived with her husband in Wohnsinn, a project for cross-generational living in Darmstadt-Kranichstein.
Senior in a Multigenerational House
“Are you looking for someone?” “Yes, Mrs. Barbara Mayer.” “She lives in Wohnsinn 2. You have to go to the next entrance.”
Barbara Mayer is well known in the area. Almost immediately after the bells rings, she opens the door. Smiling, full of life, cheerful, a little proud. Wohnsinn is also her project. She was involved from the very start. From the original idea in a small group to the initiative and the association until eventually the cooperative was formed and realized the project. The first construction phase was completed in 2004, the second in 2008. Meanwhile 140 people live in the houses. Old and young, families and single people, affluent and socially disadvantaged.
They live together as a community and help each other out. Barbara Mayer has even bought an apartment with her husband.
“My commitment has a history. Until they died, my parents could still be cared for at home by their three daughters. When they died, I suddenly realized: Who is going to look after me when I’m older? I have a son, but he lives in Berlin. So you have to use all the resources that you have today...”
The papers for the annual service charges are spread out on the large round living room table. Barbara Mayer deals with that on a voluntary basis. Commitment and campaigning have influenced her life. As a student she was active in a schoolchildren’s project, later she helped build a cultural centre and a women’s cultural centre. In Darmstadt she got involved in a local group for the then rather neglected Kranichstein district. And she worked for the creation of the Intercultural Gardens, an idea that came from the field of refugee support. Unused plots of land are jointly cultivated and give people, primarily migrants, a new feeling of home.
“There’s always something to do. Why should I read novels? That’s just borrowed life. I’d much rather be together with other people. Community is something wonderful.”
Michael Zipf, 47, journalist
Martina Zipf, 49, physiotherapist
Yannick, 17, student
Julian, 13, student
The Zipf family lives in Oftersheim, which is also where Michael Zipf grew up. In 1997 he and his wife realized their dream of a low-energy wooden house.
Family in a Low-Energy House
Everyone’s home for lunch at 1 p.m. The children come from school, the mother from the practice and the father from the second floor, where he has set up an office for the days he can work from home. He works in the communications department at business software company SAP. There’s fried potatoes, meat, peas and carrots for lunch. As so often, school is the topic at the dining table. One of Yannick’s fellow students got a better mark than he did, although they both had the same answer. Despite his protests, the teacher somehow talked his way out of it. Nevertheless, there’s not much time to discuss it. The day is fully planned. The children have to go to afternoon lessons and then to sport. Michael has to go to SAP and his wife has enough to do in the house. In the evening they make sure they have time for one another, play a parlour game or make music together. A very normal German family.
“My father lives here. The mother of my wife lives just five kilometres away. The baker, butcher and supermarket are in walking distance. We get on well with our neighbours. Where we live is surrounded by forest. Heidelberg is only 10 kilometres away, Mannheim 20 kilometres. And it’s also not far to the handball club.”
Handball is the big hobby in the family – at least, for the father and the boys. Since his youth Michael has been active at HG Oftersheim/Schwetzingen and even once played in the 2nd national league. Today he is vice chairman of the club and looks after the youth team. In winter they like to take a skiing holiday, in summer go to Sylt. This year, however, everything was different. The Zipfs explored California – from San Francisco to San Diego. Some time ago Michael had the option of going to the United States with his family for work.
“In concrete terms it was because SAP needed support in communications on the West Coast. My boss had already approved it. We’d told our children. We would have gone to Silicon Valley for at least a year, to Palo Alto because there’s a German school there. But the economic crisis put a spanner in the works. Pity.”
Julian, the youngest, had not reacted particularly enthusiastically at the time.
“Everything has its advantages and disadvantages.”
Thomas Geissert, 45, architect
Peter Müller, 50, corporate IT specialist
Thomas Geissert comes from the Palatinate and studied architecture. Peter Müller comes from Langen, studied historical ethnology and then completed a training programme as an IT specialist. For seven years they have lived in a same-sex partnership in their own house in Egelsbach near Frankfurt.
Gay Couple in a Small Town
Schillerstrasse seems to go on for ever. Another detached one-family house follows the next. There are hardly any people on the street. Medium-sized cars are parked in front of the houses. The curtains are drawn. It’s a typical German small town setting in the late afternoon. Yet there are no curtains in one ground-floor window. Bright light shines as far as the street from a red designer lamp. Thomas Geissert stands in the front door and waves in the guest.
“Peter, we have a visitor.”
The eat-in kitchen is the central living area. Bright, inviting, everything is stylish and meticulously arranged – even the shopping list on the flight case. Thomas and Peter like having guests, cook together, travel together, do almost everything together. They have lived in a “homosexual marriage” in Egelsbach for seven years. You would tend to associate their way of life and elegant interior design with a big city, but this apparent discrepancy is soon swept away.
“Eventually I was fed up with having just 40 square metres and not even a balcony. I simply wanted a garden. So we moved here. On average the neighbours are 20 years older than us, but very nice. We like these respectable surroundings. Besides Frankfurt is not very far away.”
Thomas and Peter have gradually modified the house according to their tastes. Thomas has his large garden, Peter his jogging route around the small Egelsbach airfield nearby. And if they want to go to a museum, a concert or the ballet, they can be in Frankfurt in just 20 minutes.
Torsten Walsch, 45, marketing manager
Rita Velasquez, 45, development worker
Torsten Walsch and Rita Velasquez met in 1990 while they were students in Hamburg. They married in 2002 and have both lived in Frankfurt am Main since 2006. Torsten works in the marketing department of a bank, his Colombian wife as a development worker with a nongovernmental organization.
Binational Couple in an Apartment Building
The breakfast table is laid. At one place there are plantains with rice, at the other bread rolls with jam. It’s not always like this, just sometimes – when Rita feels like some home cooking. Today Colombian music is coming from the CD player. The songs by the band Putumayo tell stories about farmers. That sounds like a case of homesickness, but it’s not. Rita’s brother is the band’s singer. The binational couple live in two worlds. Here Frankfurt with a large circle of friends, there Colombia with the large family. Torsten and Rita’s discussions often revolve around these two poles.
“We have thought about buying an apartment or house, but we don’t know where our future lies. Colombia is an option. We could imagine living there, but we have to be free of ties for that.”
Torsten and Rita already have an idea of what they would like to do in Colombia – a library with children’s literature that travels through the country, for example, would be something worthwhile. But the civil war soon brings them and their dreams back down to earth. The reality is Germany, living in the city.
“Frankfurt is ideal for us. Binational couples are normal here. Below us live a Brazilian with his German wife and on the first floor a German and his Turkish wife. My workplace is within sight. And Rita can find her specialities at the market hall or in Asian shops.”
