Life is not easy for the children of migrants. 

The secret guilt second and third generation migrants carry with them.  The pressure of navigating several cultures, whilst not feeling fully part of one, can hang heavy on their shoulders. The shadow of transgenerational trauma can sway for a long time. 

Laura Cwiertnia’s debut novel Auf der Straße heißen wir anders addresses these sensitive issues with a soft sense of humour.   

The book begins with a funeral. The grandmother of the main protagonist, Karla, has passed. The family have an Armenian funeral to discuss her will. Surprisingly she has left a bracelet to a Lilit Kuyumcyan, not a name Karla recognises. So she leaves with her father to Yerevan, to find Lillit, and force a reckoning with their identity. 

Through flashbacks and switches in perspective, the stories of generations of her family unfold. 

Karla has grown up in Germany. Her father spent time in Turkey, her grandmother came to Germany at a young age to send money to their family in Armenia. 

Karla hardly knows anything about her roots. The topic of their Armenian heritage is rarely broached. In her search for Lilit, Karla is confronted with the trauma associated with the Armenian genocide: a subject which generations of her family feel the effects of for years to come. 

At its core this is a father-daughter story. You can feel the disconnect between them. Her father has a side he keeps separate from her. He never speaks about his past, about his life in Turkey. And yet, this trip forces them to confront their own family history, with a view to figuring things out for the future. 

This is a book about closing circles only for them to reopen again.  A book about the different ways to showcase strength. A book rich with humour and heart. 

Laura Cwiertnia, born in Bremen in 1987 to an Armenian father and a German mother, is deputy head of department at DIE ZEIT. Auf der Straße heißen wir anders is her literary debut.