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.

Seen and Heard

Despite being sick for about five weeks, I have actually done a lot of traveling in the past month or so, and it seems wrong to leave things undocumented. My first round of traveling was Vichy to Grenoble to Strasbourg to Paris; the second included Lyon and and Paris part two.

I only spent a day in Grenoble but it was so beautiful. Snowing, and I was totally unprepared for the weather; but I managed to eat a delicious dinner of fondue and ride up to see the snow covered Bastille. And find various animals dressed in Christmas attire.

He was just hanging out in the middle of the street. I took a few too many pictures.

Freezing in Grenoble

Riding up to the Bastille and slightly terrified.

Next, I went to Strasbourg and we were met with unfortunate weather. I'm pretty sure that Strasbourg is incredible in any weather though. The entire town was lit up and one Christmas market spilled into another, turning the city into a giant Christmas festival. I spent two days just walking, drinking hot wine and cider, and shopping.

Warming myself by the fire at a market in Strasbourg.

One of my best friends arrived on Christmas Eve and we spent an amazing week together, despite many unforeseen obstacles that tried to hold us back, including: bronchitis, personal drama, malfunctioning debit cards, and a laundry list of other mishaps that will remain unnamed. Rachel is the ultimate travel buddy because she's just like me--daring, clumsy, and desperate for new experiences. I don't think I've ever laughed so much as I did the week she was here; it was incredible. Here are some highlights of the trip:

Arc de Triomphe

Le Tour Eiffel

Le Louvre

One of the greatest things I took from my vacation was my experience with 'Covoiturage,' essentially a carpooling website in France. At first I was hesitant, scared of what might happen and where I might end up. But between weeks of SNCF threatening to go on massive strike and train ticket prices skyrocketing, I decided to go for it. What I found was a cheaper, more interesting way to travel. I would be nervous to do it alone, but with a friend it is a perfect way to get from point A to point B in a more enriching manner.

Triumphant return

Although I perpetually critique it, I can't imagine life without social media. Every time I log into Facebook, my email, or this recently neglected blog, it's like one giant round of applause, where everyone is screaming my name and begging for an encore. As of lately, however, the internet has for many reasons become a device of torture, and I have avoided everthing in hopes to protect the little dignity and privacy that I have left. It wasn't until yesterday, that I realized that it is 2012, not 1912, and it's a waste of energy to avoid something that is supportive 98% of the time and only 2% damaging.

Needless to say, December was not what I anticipated. For reasons I am not comfortable disclosing, the month chewed me up and spit me out, in a physical and in an emotional sense. Weeks later, I am finally gathering my strength (well I'm sitting in bed, but 90 degrees is better than 180) and writing a little.
One thing I promised myself when I began this blog was that I would write even if what I was writing was stupid. Even if it felt irrelevant or it lacked structure. So I'm doing just that.

Last week I discussed New Year's resolutions with my students, and many held the opinion that it is a terrible tradition that sets people up for failure and inhibits us from being content with who we are. I thought this was a little heavy for a fifteen year old, but there just might be something to it. I have so much to accomplish and look forward to this year, but between the waves of emotional drama and being sick for going on four weeks now, I just want to rest and feel like myself again. But part of myself is writing, so here is my first attempt to get back in the habit.

Travel Plans

In four days, my boyfriend will be here and I feel it is appropriate to express my excitement by posting a low-quality map depicting our travel plans:

We will of course be spending time in Saint-Pourcain, but also traveling to Clermont-Ferrand, Grenoble, Strasbourg, and finally Paris, where he will catch his flight out on Christmas Eve. An hour after he leaves, one of my best friends will arrive at the same airport, and we will head south for Christmas Vacation Part 2. Stay tuned.

Changing

I've gotten really good at being alone. To some, this may sound like a small feat, but for me, it's huge. Solitude used to make me irritatingly uncomfortable, like a ratty polyester sweater. More than an hour in my own head and I was cranky, desperate, and hungry for attention.

These days, I can't get enough. I savor the moments of silence when I can read, sing Lady Gaga on youtube karaoke, or just simply stare at the wall if I want. I'm really proud of how comfortable I have become with myself even though I think internet access in my apartment plays a huge role in this.

Anyways, my newfound independence started to crumble tonight when I was walking to the pharmacy and saw the huge Christmas tree in the center of town. I'm no homebody, but around the holidays, I always feel this slight twinge of loneliness to be somewhere, to be a part of something. Naturally, this is usually satisfied by a few days of intense family time, which consequently reminds me that being alone isn't so bad after all. But tonight I really felt how far away I was, how much I am changing, and how alone I am in all of it. And it felt...terrifying.

Before I left, I blogged about how traveling changes people; it opens them up to new experiences that alter your perceptions. It challenges one to the point where it is impossible to return the same person. This is why I love traveling after all, because it shakes me up; I feel alive and alert. So these feelings aren't surprising to me, they are simply confirming my expectations for this adventure.

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.