Saying goodbye to something great

I hate pants. My preference for pantlessness has always bothered people, but in my mind, pants are binding, annoying, and uncomfortable. They represent the threshold between the day's obligations and freedom. And around here lately it's all freedom and no obligation, so you get a pretty good idea of how I'm spending my time.

The only semi appropriate underwear pic available

Under the weight of capitalism

As my year as an English assistant is coming to an end, I find myself--quite predictably--full of sentiment and reflections and armed with a long list of "things I wish I'd done differently." One thing I really enjoy about spending time abroad is that it gives me the chance to compare my native culture with a new one. One thing I don't enjoy about spending time abroad is keyboard confusion due to prolonged use of foreign computers. Seriously, it's taken me about 15 minutes to type this paragraph. Where was I--oh yes--there have undoubtedly been some moments of culture shock for me since my arrival, but I feel that my most profound realization is the comparison I've made between French and American measures of success and work ethic.

afternoon walk in the neighborhood

Americans criticize the French for being lazy. The French criticize the Americans for being overweight workaholics. This argument isn't anything new I know, but this year I have really noticed how different American and French cultures are in this aspect and how the mentalities affect people.

A product of American culture and my inherent type-A personality, I have been pushed hard from day 1. A joint effort by myself, peers, parents, teachers and the media, I've been told that everything worth doing is worth doing well perfectly. Don't just write the essay; write the best essay in the class. Don't just run on the track team; be the fastest. Be the smartest, the prettiest, the happiest....you get the picture.

This perfectionist mentality bled over into my high school and college years, where I ran myself ragged trying to not only do everything, but to do everything perfectly, better than all the others. Even after I finished school, I felt the urgent pressure to find the perfect job, as if my entire happiness rested on a single career.

It wasn't until this past year in France that these crazy voices in my head finally quieted down a bit. Perhaps this is because my life here is extremely laid-back--or maybe--it's something more.

Finally able to eat outside!!

In France you don't really hear people talking about their next promotion. People aren't obsessively trying to raise their salaries or find perfection in anything. Pessimistic? Lacking the excitement of the American dream? Maybe. But with the pressure off, happiness is suddenly more obtainable. People here just do what they do--they teach, they heal the sick, they take your money, they build houses, etc. Everyone that I know seems content with where they are and who they are and they aren't stressed out trying to reach some imaginary level of perfection.

But without competitive capitalist motivation, who will fix the economy, find a cure for cancer and establish peace in the Middle East?--one might ask. Honestly I don't know. And spending a year with 15-year-olds who still can't properly introduce themselves or ask a question in English after 5+ years of studying; I'll admit that I'm worried for the future. No system or mentality is flawless, but for whatever it's worth, I have learned to accept my abilities, education, and life as is since I've been here. It's been a difficult mindset to obtain and my only hope is that I can keep it with me when I go.

French tragedy, American perspective

At 11 a.m. on Tuesday, March 20th, France stood still. For an entire minute. This may not sound impressive if you have not worked with children, but believe me, convincing 700 middle and high school students to stand still and shut up for 60 seconds is something to brag about--especially when the majority of them don't understand the context.

For those of you who haven't heard, on Monday morning a gunman entered a Jewish school in Toulouse and killed three children and a Rabbi. He was believed to be associated with other recent killings in Toulouse, but nothing was confirmed. The police eventually found him, and after a 31-hour stand off at his apartment, the suspect jumped out the window and died. (It is currently unconfirmed as to whether the fall or a gunshot wound caused his death).

Even though I am not French (but God knows I try to be) this tragedy was chilling for me. I feel more integrated here this go-around because I am technically employed by the state, and I am an educator. And the thought that someone could be hateful enough to enter a school--a place of learning, a place to better oneself--and seek some sort of religious/ racial vengeance is absolutely sickening to me. Although I live in the middle of no-where and the chances of something like this happening at my school are slim-to-none, it is jolting to think that if someone wanted, they could walk in and do the same thing.

The majority of the students at my school are not up-to-date on the situation. A greater majority don't seem to care too much. But regardless, there was something moving about all of us standing in silence on Tuesday morning. I am usually irritated by choreographed displays of respect, but this time it felt genuine; it felt significant.

My heart goes out to all who were affected by this tragedy.

Strikes and Snow

Time is starting to pass by really quickly. It amazes me how the first few weeks in a new and challenging situation such as this drag at the beginning. The month of October I spent my days staring at the wall, counting the days, organizing and re-organizing my sock drawer. And then I made a friend. Who introduced me to another friend. Who introduced me to the running club. A new bar. A new store. Suddenly everything felt natural and pleasant. I believe they call this adaptation.

I still have three more months of teaching and an additional two months until my visa expires, but I am starting to think about what the next chapter for me will be. My original plan was to return in the summer and begin graduate school to continue my studies of French, but it seems counterproductive to leave France in order to learn more French. My entire life, I have always been aware of my passions, but incapable of forming them into a concrete plan. Even though my position in Saint-Pourcain is temporary, I have honestly never felt more at home or happy. I need to find a way to make it last.

I promised myself that I wouldn't ruin any part of this experience my thinking too much, but here I am, at the end of a long week punctuated by snow flurries and teachers on strike, thinking my life away. You would hope that someone who does as much yoga as me could stay present, enjoy the moment. But no matter how you spin it, one truth is evident: I am tired of moving. I've been doing it for six years, and I'm getting to the point where I want to choose a place and make it mine. This thought both terrifies and soothes me.

I have a lot to look forward to in the coming months, including trips to London and Italy, and a visit from my sister, cousin, and friend in May. Now that whatever strange sickness that held me hostage in bed for five weeks has yielded, I feel ready to make everything count, and remember the reasons I came here in the first place.

Tightening the reigns

Le Domaine de Marie-Antoinette-Versailles, February 2008

Last week I bitched incessantly about how I couldn't manage a classroom, how my students wouldn't stop talking, how I'm a failure, a pushover, so on and so forth. After classes on Friday, I ran out of the school like my ass was on fire, eager to spend the weekend in bed, hiding under the covers. Thwarting my escape, a colleague stopped me on my way home and asked me how everything was going. I promptly broke down and --in French--expressed my frustrations. Our conversation went a little like this.

"I'm the worst teacher ever."

"You're the boss, don't let them take advantage of you. Be mean if necessary."

"But I'm not mean."

"Fake it. Sometimes being a good teacher means being a good actor. You have to create a new personality for your classroom."

I woke up early Tuesday morning, ready to turn things around. I'd be lying if I said that this week was flawless, but I did make some improvements. First, I don't allow students to choose where they sit anymore. Before they come into the class I place their name cards where I want them, purposefully separating groups of friends who are disruptive. Second, I don't raise my voice. I've found it's better to be silent and wait, than to compete with talkative students. Sometimes this takes a minute or two, but eventually they realize that they are being rude, and give me their attention. Third, if students refuse to participate, I keep not-so-fun back-up activities on hand to give to students (or the entire class) if they are being uncooperative.

Today another colleague offered to sit in on my class, to observe me and make suggestions. After the students left I covered my face, Me:"I just can't stand being so mean." Experienced teacher:"That was mean??"

So clearly I have a ways to go. But half of the battle is recognizing your weaknesses right? And I've done that. I've also realized that this issue bleeds over into other areas of my life; I am so afraid to piss people off and to voice my opinion, because I need to be liked. I loathe confrontation. Consequently, I waste a lot of time doing things I don't care about and am often manipulated. This needs to change, and I guess it's already starting to.

Faking mean

Something a lot of people don't realize is that teaching is hard work. Not in the sense that the work load is insurmountable, or the hours are unbearable, but teaching requires one to juggle several strenuous tasks that are all interdependent on each other. A teacher's primary goal is of course, to teach the necessary material, that is usually determined by a higher branch of academic power. Or in my case, not. But the teacher must also create and maintain a miniature "society" for their students-- with laws, expectations, goals, consequences etc. The environment that a teacher creates for learners is equally as important as what is being taught, because without it, students lack structure, motivation, and respect. In order to develop this sense of a stable classroom society, a teacher often has to play a part, that is completely different than their personality.

My first two months of teaching were peaches and cream. Maybe the students didn't understand me, were afraid of me, or were half-asleep, but they were delightful to spend time with. I coasted through my lessons and felt like I'd made about 200 new friends. I felt accomplished, respected, mature, and empowered. Then a few days ago, this facade quickly disintegrated. Turns out, my "everyone be nice and love each other" approach translated as "everyone do what you want this class doesn't count." My students are hyper, loud, and boisterous; they fall over chairs and throw pens, they talk when I tell them stop and speak in French when I require English. At the end of my "short" days, I feel drained and cynical; I can't seem to pinpoint where things went wrong, or how to make them right. Surely I haven't lost the fight yet...right?

If you know me, then you know that I am anything but authoritative, mean, or strict. I'm a people-pleasing optimist, who will do anything for a warm smile and a pat on the back. Kind of like a golden retriever. It feels so unnatural to be firm and strict with my students, which is why I decided on a more relaxed approach from the get-go. Well this approach is currently biting me in the ass. I want to be liked, but more that that, I don't want to feel like I'm fighting a war every day.

I've been brainstorming all afternoon, thinking back through my 16 years of school, to how my teachers managed their classrooms. I had the meanies, who terrified me. Sure, they kept order and were never walked all over the way I have been lately, but I don't think terrifying students is a) something I'm capable of and b) a good environment for a foreign language conversation class.

Then of course I've had the teachers who everyone loved, but no one respected. They were funny, flighty, disorganized, and energetic, but not what I'm going for. These teachers yelled over the class as if they were begging for the respect and attention that they were entitled to. This persona is frightening to write about because I am starting to feel this way, and I am worried of losing control in my classes completely as students get comfortable talking over me and ignoring instructions.

Then there were the teachers I've had who have mastered a balance. They were cool, calm, collected, interesting, inspiring, approachable, and intimidating. Where did they learn this? This is what I need to master. The art of intimidating people in an inspiring way. I have a lot of things working against me though: I'm 24, I don't speak French fluently, and I can't give grades...all of which my students are aware of. So what do I have to back up my desired persona? Until I can find a better answer to this question I'm going to rely on my acting skills, and the cold beer in my fridge.

Falling backwards

As with any conquest of value, some days speaking French are triumphant..clear, crisp, and fluid. And other days are tragic. The horrible thing is that I know right away if it's going to be a "good speaking day" or a "bad speaking day." Anyone who has devoted a large amount of time to mastering a foreign language knows this. Some mornings I step out of my apartment, and my first Bonjour! to the conceirge is on point. Almost native. Other days, it sounds like a two-year-old with a speech impediment. At least in my head. But then again, I'm extremely hard on myself.

As a student in Aix-en-Provence, every day was a "bad speaking day." Before entering a social situation I would quickly decide if I wanted to play the part of the aloof American bitch who refused to talk to anyone, or the village idiot waltzing around the room massacring the French language. Both scenarios were equally painful, because they painted a completely inaccurate picture of who I am.

As I'm sure you've guessed by now, today was a "bad speaking day." I felt lazy and disoriented, and I could not express anything interesting to anyone. So naturally, I repaired my damaged ego by doing something I am good at: eating cookies and watching Gossip Girl.

But even an hour of indulgence can't shake me from my mood, or the complex that is forming in my head. I am so thankful to be where I am, and to be constantly learning and improving, but some days it is just so difficult. Learning a second language returns one to infancy, but not the picturesque Johnson & Johnson version, more like the terrible two's where nothing works and everything is a risk, an experiment.

More and more people are mentioning "accents." Many French people I know are hesitant to speak to me in English because of their accent, which I don't understand...I've always thought the French accent is sophisticated, sexy, and intelligent sounding. But recently, much to my horror, people immediately call me out for my "American accent." I can only hope they find it cute and endearing, because most likely it's here to stay.

Grad school woes

French people are really good at doing nothing. I don't mean this in a negative sense, I am actually incredibly jealous at how they can achieve leisure and relaxation. No one apologizes for spending the day in bed, for taking a three-hour lunch, for 5+ weeks of paid vacation each year. It's cultural, but more than that, it's a philosophy.

Americans, on the other hand work themselves to death and when they finally catch a few days to take off from work, stay in ther pajamas in front of the TV, too exhausted to move. It makes so much more sense to me to work at a steady, slow pace, rather than waiting for yourself to burn out. I hope that I can become more like this and maintain the lifestyle when I return the the U.S.

However, my newfound ideology is proving difficult as I am trying to complete four graduate school applications with deadlines in December. Well, two are in December but I really just want to knock them all out, so I can move on with my life. I've always viewed grad school as a superior route to take in life, a way to bypass the political infrastructure that confines us. So. Wrong. Just like anything else, grad school is a business, a rat race, a competition. And with an influx of applicants as a result of the lack of jobs out there, it's worse than ever.

Which brings me to the past few weeks, sitting glued to my computer obsessing over my personal statement. It's exhausting because you have to express yourself, but only in the way that the committee wants to see you, which is essentially unknown. You have to shine but not too brightly, say all the right things, with the right tone.

I'm lucky to know some really intelligent people who don't mind me filling up their email inboxes each day with questions and revisions, but no matter how hard I work, I am feeling panicked. What if I'm not good enough?

These questions and concerns have been circling my mind, meanwhile distracting me from the important things in my life at the moment: what type of wine to try next, why isn't there gel deodorant in France, how can I cook Christmas dinner without an oven, etc.

So I suppose this post is a useless rant, but perhaps a call for advice. If anyone is in the process of, or has applied to graduate school and has advice for personal statements, interviews, and the application in general, please share!

Shock value

Every day I sit at my desk, across from my German roommate and write. Well, I try to write. Often, I just maintain an espresso-induced caffeine buzz and bounce back and forth between my blog (audience: the world), my personal journal (audience: myself), and my novel (audience: to be determined). One of my goals for my time abroad was to write something...anything...at least three times each week. Even if it's bad, I believe that the act of writing encourages more writing, and eventually something profound..or can I say brilliant, will emerge.

But lately I feel like there is a ticking clock in the back of my head, as if all the other writers are stealing all of the good ideas. The bank is running out, and I'm getting nervous. More and more I see people writing solely for shock value. Excessive cursing, blatant racism/sexism, exaggerated arrogance...anything that will bring in the most traffic is fair game. And I completely understand it. While I am honored that my friends and family read my blog with some regularity, I would love it if I could expand my readership, and attract the attention of random readers. This is ultimately the desire of the writer, not to write, but to be read. So perhaps I am trying to defy something that is undefiable; writers are arrogant, attention-seeking exhibitionists.

That being said, it is exhausting to be an arrogant, attention-seeking exhibitionist. And sometimes, we give up, lose our voice, and forget why we are writing in the first place. There are many different views on what to do to cure writer's block, but I find three to be particularly helpful:

1. Pick someone to write to
You don't have to literally write "Dear Dad" at the top of the paper, but this will direct your tone, message, and instantly give your writing a message. Imagine you are telling a story to someone you know, and then let the writing go from there.

2. Don't be afraid if it's bad
When I have writer's block I type a word, delete. Type three more, delete, delete, delete. Never edit and write simultaneously, I think this inhibits creativity. Express first, edit later.

3. Find a writing place
For weeks I felt like I had nothing to say. This was probably because I was sleeping til noon and sitting across from a pile of dirty laundry every day. Switch up your location, excite your senses and see what can happen.

Five things you shouldn't do when attempting to speak another language.

Lately I've been on this gigantic power-trip, or should I say self-worth trip. It's like every night I fall asleep and someone is pumping Oprah Winfrey into my veins. It started with the whole Occupy Movement, when I realized that YES, I DESERVE EDUCATION. I DESERVE HEALTHCARE. I DESERVE A COMFORTABLE LIFE. Then my newfound idealogy spread to my present situation abroad: I DESERVE TO BE UNDERSTOOD.

I speak from a personal level when I say this, but I'm sure that many would agree, that most people, when in a foreign environment, assume an inferior position. We forget that we deserve to be a part of the experience, and start to exist on a sub-level of social interaction, where we are understanding most of what's happening, but not everything. Once you get accustomed to this feeling, you are in danger of existing there permanently, and thus not allowing yourself to reap all of the benefits of living abroad.

So what to do? Well, you work your ass off. It's exhausting. Spend as much time with people who are native speakers of the language you want to learn. Immersion is an active pursuit, it is not accomplished just be being in a new location. You have to work hard, every day, until it clicks. You can't take anything personally. And when it comes down to daily conversations, avoid the following:

1. Translating directly
This should be a last resort, like when you absolutely have to communicate something and know no other way. And if you do, be prepared to sound...awkward. The other day I was having lunch with some teachers, and they asked me if I had enough to eat. Yes, I'm full. Unfortunately, I didn't know that je suis pleine means I am pregnant in French.

2. Agreeing or disagreeing without full comprehension
When your mind is spinning trying to make sense of things, it is tempting to just nod and say yes, yes, or no, no, but this can get you in trouble. First, it makes it seem like you're not paying attention and second, you could agree to something absolutely ridiculous.

3. Being afraid to slow things down
Learning a new language is one of the hardest things in the world. So don't feel like you are admitting defeat by asking a native speaker to slow down, or ask for the definition of a word.

4. Just listening
Try not to fade into the background. It is just as awkward for everyone else if you're just sitting there feeling lost. I complained to a colleague that I have things to contribute to a conversation, but once I know what I want to say, it's three minutes too late. Say it anways! Or start a new conversation, eventually you'll be on the same page.

5. Giving up without a fight
Most importantly, fight to understand; fight to be understood. No, I don't mean be aggressive and scary. But don't get too frustrated. Most likely, the group you're with isn't talking about rocket science. They are probably talking about the same things everyone is--you know jerky ex-boyfriends, love handles, Leonardo Dicaprio...So don't be intimidated.

To occupy or not to occupy

One thing I enjoy about being abroad is viewing and reading American news from a different perspective. And with the recent Occupy Movement sweeping the country, there has been plenty of information to digest and discuss--with other Americans and the French.

It feels like every day that I log on to Facebook, I see one of those "I am the 99%" photos, or even better the "I am not the 99%" photos, followed by a page-long trail of heated debate. With all of the opinions, coverage, and controversy, I can't seem to pinpoint what is scaring people more, that big corporations are being attacked, or that Americans are standing up for their rights, an idea that has somehow become against the "American Dream" which according to critics of the movement, means working your ass off and expecting nothing from your government or society.

Somewhere along the line it seems that Americans have misconstrued their value, worth, and have begun to accept nothing from the society and government that they are a part of. Yes, I believe in working hard for what you have. But I strongly believe that every individual should have the right to healthcare and to education. No one should get sick or die because they don't have money. No one should miss out on education because they cannot finance it. These ARE basic human rights and anyone who disagrees has a warped sense of self-worth.

I really like to bring up the Occupy Wallstreet Movement with my French colleagues and students, because they just can't wrap their head around facts we have accepted: unless you are rich, you must take out a surplus of loans to complete your education, and a trip to the doctor could set you back thousands of dollars. My friend thought she misunderstood me when I first explained this, then she asked "Well, since you are paying so much for college, do they immediately place you with a career?" I laughed. Wouldn't that be nice. But how would she know? She attended a four-year university for free, then obtained her masters for free, and after receiving certification, she was placed in a school as a full-time art teacher.

It is doubtful that the changes the Occupy protesters are fighting for will ever come to pass. But that really isn't the point. They are fighting against injustice, refusing to accept what is happening.

First taste of la discipline française

One of the few things emphasized to me before I began teaching was attendance. I have to mark who is there, who is absent and report it to La Vie Scolaire each day. If a student is absent and I don't report it and something bad happened to him, I am responsible for that. So, scary, right? The last thing I need is legal trouble in a foreign country in a new profession. So I make a big deal out of attendance, checking and double checking.

And the other day, sure enough, there was a student missing. So I wrote it down. Let's call him A. When I reported it to the office, they seemed troubled, and confused. They asked me if I was sure. Yes, I am certain that A was not there. They told me to come to a certain room after my classes. Gulp. What's going on?
So I finish my work, and hurry back down, and there he is. Looking at me like a guilty puppy. Was he in your class? The teacher asked. No, I'm sorry he wasn't. Are you sure? Because he doesn't agree with you. I took a deep breath. No, this boy was not in my class.

So we go to another office. It was becoming clear that A was lying, and that I was terrified. His look of guilt had turned into annoyance and betrayal. He expected me to lie for him.

Eventually everything calmed down, the boy, post-smack down was dismissed to go to his other class, and it was explained to me that he has problems with attendance, and they have to keep a close watch on him.

I definitely understand that there needs to be a level of respect and of course, regular attendance, but this experience was definitely a cultural shock for me, seeing the way that students are reprimanded for bad behavior. Discipline in France has definitely come a long way, but it will surely take some time for me to adjust to the somewhat callous dealings with students. In the States, it is all so fluffy and politically correct. In France, they cut to the chase.

Between the three confrontations, I have broken a sweat, and I was beyond ready for some bread/wine/cheese/skype/yoga. Not necessarily in that order.

Top ten reasons why learning a new language is terrifying

In Amsterdam, feeling utterly defeated by my lack of language ability. I mean no way this is a real word.

It's been a while since I've featured a top-ten list, and it seems fitting, after my first week of teaching English inside the classroom and learning French outside the classroom. So without further delay...

1. It brings us back to infancy.

Nothing is more humbling than lacking the ability to express yourself. Suddenly you are resorting to miming, sign language, grunts, charades, just to tell someone you're hungry.

2. Perpetual awkwardness
People like to fit in. Even outgoing life of the party people. But when you are in a new country or in an environment where a new language is being spoken, you are the odd one out. Every time.

3. Personality loss
The first time I came to France, I was shocked at how frustrated I felt by my muffled personality, that I was unable to project with my limited vocabulary. Wait a minute! I'm funny! And smart! And a really big deal back home! They just didn't get it.

4. Everyone is talking about you
With time I've gotten over this, but when I first started to learn French, I just KNEW that everyone was talking about me. Every laugh was definitely at my expense.

5. Fulfilling stereotypes
We all fight them, but they are there. And whether you like it or not, foreigners expect Americans to speak only English, and our attempts to speak other languages are often mocked.

6. We get stuck in language comfort zones
I spoke of this in an earlier blog, but it is so easy to get really comfortable with introductory stuff, you know "Hi, my name is Stephanie, I like Brad Pitt and going to the beach." And then, out of no where, some smart ass throws me for a loop. I'll blush, mumble, incorrectly conjugate something before running away.

7. You'll never blend in
One of the things I'm embracing this go-around is that I will stick out like sore thumb, no matter what. Especially in a small town like Saint-Pourcain, everyone knows I'm a foreigner, and that attracts attention.

8. Offending someone is way too easy
Anyone who has spent time learning another language knows how easy it is to mispronounce a word and bam! You've just told someone to f*** off. Well that's a little extreme, but it is easier for a foreigner to sound rude, because they don't know the correct tense of a verb, or they are trying so desperately to communicate that they forget the particulars.

9. For a long time you will sound like an idiot
Face it. No matter how hard you study, the only way to become fluent is to practice, practice, practice.

10. You'll probably only catch half of what's being said.
This hasn't been too much of a problem for me so far, that is until I went to the bank. Oh la la. That poor woman. It took us over an hour, a dictionary, and a cigarette break to successfully open my bank account.

I am spending half the weekend in Vichy with a colleague from the lycee and the other half with a new friend who lives in Clermont-Ferrand, so plenty of awkward, challenging, foreigner moments to come. Stay tuned.

Get them to talk

The first week of teaching is in full swing! I've taught six classes so far this week, and got a pretty good idea of students' levels of English. Overall, I was really impressed, not only with English speaking capability, but with their eagerness to speak and listen. Once again, I am reminded of how Americans need to step it up and learn more languages. Not necessarily dedicate their lives to them, but second language acquistion develops the brain in a unique way and reminds individuals that their mother tongue is not at the center of the universe. You can connect with a person in a powerful way when you speak their language. I tell my students that in the classroom we only speak English, but outside of the classroom, I am a student as well, a student of French.

For this week and the next, I will mostly be doing introductory activities. I introduce myself, let students ask questions about me, explain the format and rules of the class. Then I distribute pictures of myself, friends, and family and let the students make comments and most importantly ask questions about them. For the TES LVR (essentially seniors with an English specialization) this activity proved to be too easy, it quickly turned into a comfortable conversation--which isn't bad but I need to be sure to challenge them. For the younger groups, the photo activity proved challenging, they mostly asked "Who it is?" and "His name is what?" So...we'll have to work on that. But it really helps for me to have a working knowledge of French, because I can understand their thought process when they formulate sentences.

Next, I let students give a brief introduction of themselves. They told me about where they were from, what they like to do, favorite foods, music, movies, etc. This again varied in complexity according to level. Finally, we played a game I coined "Tell Me." In an envelope, I put in little pieces of paper with statements like "Tell me about your family." "Tell me about a place you have visited." The students passed it around and would share for a few minutes (or seconds) on the subject. I liked this activity the best because it prompted discussion without preparation.

My goal now is to find ways to really engage the students. I get the feeling that they always discuss the same things in English. This is how I am in French--I can easily tell you about myself, where I am from, what I want to do, etc., but when the topic is varied, I often get lost. I need to develop topics for debates, comparisons and the like. I also want to integrate movies, current events, television shows and taboo topics. I have so many thoughts flying around I hope I can pull it all together. Point being--day one and two = success.

Dressing like a teacher 101

I have never been much of a fashionista. I went to a preppy upper-crust high school and to show my distaste for Lily Pulitzer and Lacoste, I wore tie-dye and birkenstock. Which carried over into college, where I varied my hippie-inspired wardrobe with tube tops and sundresses. (I went to school at the beach). Dumped into the "real-world," I was a nanny and a server for a year after graduation, which meant tank tops, gym shorts and yes, non-slip shoes.



Lacking style- but never personality in college

So here we are. I've always been a jeans and t-shirt kind of girl, but now I am teaching every day and really want to to change my wardrobe in a way that distinguishes me from the students. Thanks to a few generous gifts and the help of my sister, (she got the fashionista gene) I was able to buy some nice work clothes before I left for France. But now every morning, I stand in front of my closet befuddled, looking at my clothes as if they are puzzle pieces that don't fit.
I need an intervention. I wonder if What Not To Wear could do an episode in France. If they would make an exception for a girl who is searching for a style that matches her personality and professional goals. It's really true that one should present themselves for the job/life that they want and that if you look good, you will feel good. Here are a few looks/ideas that appeal to me:

I like this one because it is structured, feminine and creative, but not fussy. It's conservative but not boring; classy but I'm not yawning. It is a bit dressy for teaching, but I definitely like the structure of it.

Here's another one that looks appropriate for the school that I'm working at. Most of the teachers dress casually, but definitely polished and conservatively as well.

And last, there's this one, something a little younger and more comfortable. I really like the muted, understated colors in France, people seem to go for simple, high-quality pieces that fit extremely well.
So what to do? I guess like learning a language, practice makes perfect. In the meantime, send love and advice my way.

Helluva day




Happy Birthday to my little bro!

  I am so tired I can hardly keep my eyes open, but due to my extreme dedication to keeping my faithful readers happy, I feel compelled to write tonight.

Today is my brother's birthday, and it was really hard to be away. We have been bffs for as long as bffs count. Birthday's are the perfect opportunity to recognize how much someone means to you. I know that it will feel like this over the holidays; I suppose it's just the give-and-take of a situation like this. Get: awesome experience abroad. Give: time with friends and family.

This morning I woke up at the ripe hour of 6am and hurriedly got ready for my orientation in Clermont-Ferrand. I have been so anxious for this day, because it is meant to tie everything together and it is also a chance to meet other assistants and end my days of medieval village solitude. So first I took a bus to Varennes-sur-Allier, then a train to Clermont-Ferrand, where I met some really nice French girls who went to the university and they walked me to the school that was hosting my orientation.

I really expected today to be a drag, but I learned so much and felt so inspired by all of it, I acquired some excellent knowledge about teaching, the French education system, and my role as an assistant this year. All day I felt really lucky to be a part of this; I am realizing that it is essentially an exchange. I am sharing my language and culture in exchange to improve my French and experience their culture. Not all people get a chance to step out of their realm of comfort and challenge themselves in this way, and I am so grateful for it.

The session lasted all day from 9-5, and I made some great contacts with other assistants in my area. Out of all the things I learned today, these three made an impact:

1. Establish yourself as a leader in the classroom, immediately. French students are used to strict rules and structure, and it is more important that they respect you than think you are cool.
2. My role is not to teach grammar or teach Shakespeare, it is to get these students to talk. Because of their class size and lack of every-day necessity, they do not have a chance to practice. I need to find innovative ways to excite them about learning English.
3. Do not think of myself as a tourist. I am a member of the school's staff and an expert in my own language. I  need to exude confidence and feel comfortable, among the students and faculty. Don't be afraid to ask questions and for advice. I am here to learn and to teach.

On apprend à parler en parlant (one learns to speak by speaking)



Lycee/College Blaise Vigenere, the school where I teach

 "Being in a foreign country means walking a tightrope high above the ground without the net afforded a person by the country where he has family, colleagues, and friends, and where he can easily say what he has to say in a language he has known from childhood."
-Milan Kundera

I love Kundera. I have read The Unbearable Lightness of Being probably a million times, but each time I take away something new. I sympathize with a different character; I make different parallels to my own life. It's as if he wrote the novel 100 times and then somehow fused all the versions together.

Thus begins my second week in Saint-Pourçain-sur-Sioule. I survived a very quiet weekend, devoting myself to learning everything about the French language and education system, making lesson plans, and basking in the beauty of internet access in my apartment. Ah, the simple things.

So far I have observed four classes, and I have four more to go before I officially start teaching on October 10th. I have my orientation in Clermont-Ferrand this Wednesday, where I can't wait to meet other assistants (from the states and other countries). All of the students seem very nice, and anxious to speak/learn English. They treat me like a celebrity, which is amusing. During a Q&A today:

Student: Are you American?
Me: Yes.
Student: Are you funny?
Me: Yes, people tell me that.
Student: Well, can I have your number?

Being that most of these kids are taller than me (what are they eating?) and that I've been told I have a "baby face" I really hope that I will be taken seriously in the classroom. I want to have fun and be myself but also be respected and have control of the classroom. It's a balance that will probably take time and practice. But I am really excited about teaching--I truly feel like I'm at the right place at the right time.

There are many differences in the classroom here, for instance the students must enter the classroom one at a time, and stand at their desks until the teacher tells them they can sit down. It feels a bit rigid, but honestly it immediately sets the tone for who's in charge and calling the shots, which is a good thing. I am excited because the program is designed so that I will have small groups--no more than 12 or 13 at one time. This gives more time for individual participation, more time to talk. I teach three age groups troisième, seconde, and terminale (essentially 8th grade, 9th grade and 12 grade). I am beginning to set up lesson plans that work to generate discussions. If anyone is reading who has teaching/lesson planning advice, please don't hesitate to share.

Server no more

Last night was my last shift waiting tables. At least for this chapter of my life. Every time that I quit a job at a restaurant, I hold my uglier-than-sin no-slip black shoes over the trash can for a wavering moment, thinking, hoping that we can finally go our separate ways. But alas, once again I have put them on the shelf, because I know it's not over. Once a server, always a server.

Waiting tables is the ultimate short-term addiction because it is good, quick money with absolutely no commitment. Employees are disposable, but so are the jobs, so there is no pressure to stay anywhere you don't want to. My first job was at a small "upscale" Mexican restaurant called Uno Mas. Considering I had to learn Spanish and wear a man's shirt that was three sizes too big, I was expecting to make it big. Well, I made a lot of big mistakes. And spent quite a few nights in tears in the parking lot, amazed at how rude people are.

Years and a few jobs later, it still baffles me how people act when they come out to eat. People don't just come to a restaurant to satisify their hunger, they come to be served. Pampered. And I've seen it all--diaper changes on the booth, snooty teenagers shorting me on checks, toddlers crawling into the kitchen. For anyone who has worked in a restaurant, you know exactly what I am talking about, and I need to go no further. But for those who haven't, please take away these guidlines for eating out.

1. Tip 20%
I don't know for every state, but in SC I made $2.13 an hour. Before taxes. So essentially nothing. Never tip below 20% because your food took forever, because most likely it was the kitchen's fault and not the server. Gratuity is not just a nice favor, it is what pays the bills and keeps food on the table.

2. Keep your kids on a leash
If your child (no matter what age) cannot behave in a restaurant, then feed them at home! Screaming, throwing food, and table-side diaper changes are never okay.

3. Don't snap, whistle, clap, or shake the ice in your glass to get your server's attention.
This one gets me everytime. When you are running around like a crazy person trying to keep everyone happy, and the old man in the corner starts to whistle at you like a dog. And of course, all you can do is smile and respond.

4. Be friendly
One would assume that this is common sense, but you wouldn't believe how many customers I've had that think that "unsweet tea" is an appropriate answer to "how are you doing today?"

Regardless of my complaints, I know I have learned a lot by working in restaurants, and people take away many transferable job skills from waiting tables. Skills like multi-tasking, sales, communication, hospitality. Most servers are excellent sales people, without even realizing it. So to all you servers, don't be so down on yourself for not having a "real job."

Short-term addiction

If I had my own college, or was in charge of writing curriculum, I would definitely make two classes mandatory: Committing To Something For More Than Four Months 101 and Life Is Expensive 102. Okay, so the names need a little work but these are honestly two topics that college students have no clue about--and when they enter the "real world" the shock is enough to make them crawl back into their academic shelters where loans are dispersed like candy and nothing lasts longer than a semester.

Just think about it: no matter how bad a class is, it will be over in a few months. Your internship? Just push through the summer. Then you graduate and continue the same cycle: part-time jobs, traveling, teaching English abroad, Peace Corps, Americorps, grad school, etc. Sure, a lot of times this occurs out of necessity; you cannot find a full-time gig. But all too often it occurs out of pure terror of the real deal. Personally, I am the type of post-grad wanderer who always needs something to look forward to. I need change (big change) to keep me motivated. Something to work for. I see a steady job as a flat line, I need bends and dips to make me feel alive and important. So I guess I have two options: I can be a life-long vagabond with no stability or I can find a profession that is stimulating. Lets go with option B.

Next up, finances. I have worked since I was sixteen years old. I have definitely had the support and help of my family, but I consider myself to be somewhat of a self-made waitress  individual. But despite my facade of being an independent woman, in college I had absolutely no idea what it costs to support myself. I mean, I knew how much gas costs...and my cell phone. Beer is cheaper than liquor. Walmart is cheaper than Whole Foods. But I knew nothing about insurance (health or auto), filing taxes, or savings...it all seemed so very far away. The important thing is that I am learning all of this, even if it's a bit late in the game. College students shouldn't choose their profession based on income, but they need to have an accurate picture of what type of life they will have with the amount of money that they will make.

Why you shouldn't go to grad school

Okay, okay, I know. After my last blog that pretty much glorified continued education as the holy grail of career choices, I am pulling back the severity of my argument to clarify that I do agree with some ideas about why grad school isn't a good idea. To be clear, next fall I will most likely be working towards my so-called "useless" humanities degree, and I will be proud of it. I am an avid supporter of education in any form, and I think that graduate school is a wonderful life choice for many people. But just don't do it for these reasons.

1. To find yourself

You don't have to necessarily know exactly what you want to do with your degree, but graduate school is not the place to discover who you are, taking a class in this and that and hoping for the best. People are accepted and do well in grad school because they have extremely specific interests and career aspirations. Long gone are the undergrad days of switching your major every week.

2. To make more money

Everyone hopes that their hard work will pay off in monetary form. This is normal--but just because you rack up a few degrees does not mean you will automatically be more valuable. In fact, more and more I hear about people who are "overqualified" and it is even more difficult to find a job after receiving their degree. Before you take the plunge, think logically about what kind of life you want to set up for yourself, what your expectations are for after you complete the program, and how likely it is that those expectations will be met.

3. To wait out the recession

This has never made sense to me. Even in an economic situation like today, there are always jobs. Maybe not dream jobs, but jobs that will keep you busy, teach you skills, and make you money. I never anticipated that I would spend a year waiting tables and nannying after all my hard work in school, but I have learned a lot about myself and saved money--enough to make my adventure to France happen. Graduate school is expensive, any way you look at it. At the very best, you will be breaking even all the time, and may not be able to support the lifestyle that makes you happy. Graduate school isn't a fortress to protect you from the horrors of a bad job market. It's an expensive, time-consuming commitment that should be made mindfully.

4. Because corporate America is evil

A lot of college grads have this idea that upon graduating they have a choice--to move to NYC, buy expensive clothes and become a money-hungry stock trader, or hole up on a remote island, wear hemp, and talk about world peace. There is a middle ground, everyone. There are a lot of things that will suit you and satisfy you. And don't think that learning stops when school does. The sooner you realize that a multitude of occupations will work for you, the pressure of finding the perfect job will melt away. Promise.