Satisfaction of a job well DONE

Last Thursday was my last day teaching in my schools. And I was, sadly, just relieved. Even though I knew from the start that teaching small children wasn’t my truc, not my thing, I had hoped to like it a little. I mean, I was very lucky to have the wonderful and welcoming team at JF. I made some friends and had a great time talking to some of them. PA/B is just a different story (a few good experiences would be the exception to the indifference I felt there).

I don’t hate children. I don’t. I hate children when they outnumber me 15 to 1. I know that “real” teachers (who I respect oh so much) have classrooms of 20 or 30 all day, every day. But there’s one small difference that I’ve been trying to keep in teachers’ minds since day one: I am not a teacher. I’m not certified and I had 4 days of training. I’m an assistant.

Even though the assistantship program is quite old, nobody seems to be used to the idea. The principle is that uncertified Anglophones can come to France to teach French children or teens to expose them to the right accent and to share our culture. The uncertified part isn’t supposed to be a problem (at least for 7-month assistants) because in theory, we’re either supposed to be with the whole class with the teacher, or take small groups. I never looked it up, but I’m not so sure that 17 counts as a small group.

Yet, I sympathize. I’m sure how else it would have worked, since only one or two teachers in the school are qualified to give their own English lessons.

So, I was the Prof d’anglais in one school, and spread thinner than a crêpe at the other. I went to 13 classes a week, but didn’t see the same kids every week. So, I “taught” English to total of more than 300 kids. Remembering names was a nightmare and connecting with the kids was downright impossible.

Before starting this job, I talked to my teacher friend Heather about my worries. Number one was discipline. I was afraid of the kids walking all over me. And I was right. They didn’t see me as their teacher. So, I had to yell. Despite some mistakes, I’ve learned to lecture in French. As my sister-in-law elegantly put it, I was a BA (and no, that doesn’t mean Bachelor of Arts like I thought at first). I sent misbehaving children to the hall or back to class and didn’t blink when they started to cry.

However, I didn’t spend all my time yelling or perfecting my “classroom” French. I did teach some English. We sang and played games. And I encouraged kids. The names of the particularly bad students were easy to remember and I learned to praise them when they started to improve in English. Or when they learned how to listen to a song without starting to drag themselves around on the floor. That must be one of the best parts of teaching- seeing a kid become proud of himself after you tell him he’s improving.

I really wish I could have been with SMALL groups and had seen the same kids more frequently. I really feel that I would have been able to make a bigger impact, and they would have been able to progress more. But, when every class, starting from 1^st grade, has to have English, and there’s just one of me, that wasn’t possible.

Was it a total flop? Well, no. Some class sessions certainly were. And I didn’t come close to getting through the curriculum.

The CP/CE1 (1^st/2^nd grade) class- I swear they’re the fastest learners- at JF still sings Blue like the sea by heart. Ok, they don’t actually know all the words, but they will never forget their colors! And it was a very rewarding moment when Ali came up to me and said, “Hello. My name’s Ali. I’m 7.”

And at PA, in one of my CE1 classes (one that I saw every week), the kids can kind of express themselves- almost independently. They can say that they like spaghetti and that they don’t like snakes.

I had to lower my expectations to keep from going insane or being too hard on myself or the kids. I don’t mean that I suck or that they’re stupid. I just had really high expectations and wasn’t being realistic. And I didn’t understand kids. So, I’ve learned to be more realistic (and maybe l’Éducation Nationale should too) and having realistic goals helped.

Thursday was my last day. I had a wonderful party at JF, and, well some of the people at PA/B remembered it was my last day and said goodbye. But here’s what’s more important: the kids were sad to see me go. Because I’m a pushover and English is second recess? Maybe some of them. But, others…well I'll just let you read it for yourself.

Yacine drew his class, or maybe just his favorite classmates. "Big kisses" is a literal translation of the French expression "Gros Bisous." It's equivalent to hugs and kisses, or xoxoxoxo. The second is "Kety, I love you." I told you about my name!

Valentine says "Goodbye Cathy. Big kiss." Samantha says, well a lot, but it includes a thank you for the lessons.

This one just cracks me up. "We are going to miss you. You were a real English teacher (who was American)! Have a nice vacation." It's also fun for me to correct their FRENCH mistakes. That should be bonnes vacances.

This sweet letter is from Wendy (her English class name). "For the best English teacher (that's me!). When you came to France I knew right away that you were nice and that your classes would be good and I was right. I'm sad that you're leaving but I think that we'll see each other again (when I go to the US :) ). Goodbye and maybe I'll see you soon. From the bottom of my heart, Wendy."

I think this earns me the right to check something off my list.

Qu’y a-t-il dans un nom ? Une explication d’un prénom. / What's in a name? A name explanation.

(scroll down for English)

Katie.

Ce n’est pas un prénom français, je sais bien. Mais est-ce que c’est si difficile ? Ce n’est que 5 lettres et 2 syllabes.

Quand je suis arrivée en France, et quand j’ai rencontré les enseignants et les élèves dans les écoles, j’ai essayé de me présenter comme Katherine. Après tout, c’est mon prénom, celui qui est sur mon certificat, et c’est plus facile en France. C’est un prénom assez commun en France, sauf c’est toujours écrit avec un « C. » Pourtant, même si j’avais l’intension d’être Katherine, j’ai laissé échapper « Katie » au début, et j’ai perdu toute possibilité de simplicité.

Alors, je n’étais pas Katherine. Mais je n’étais pas Katie, non plus. Au moins, pas exactement. Les enseignants ne pouvaient pas se mettre d’accord et on m’a appelé :

Katelyn

Kelly

Casey

Kate (qui me fait grimacer puisque je m’appelais, malgré moi, Kate à la Croix Rouge)

Kathy

Je n’ai pas la moindre idée où devenaient les trois premiers. Le quatrième, j’imagine, est parce que c’est un prénom anglais commun. Le dernier est le plus intéressant (au moins si vous êtes un geek comme moi). Quand je me suis présentée comme « Katie » il y avait des enseignants qui pensaient que je prononçait « Kathy » à la française. Un enseignant, spécialement fort en anglais, m’a appelé Kathy (avec le « th ») toute l’année. Je crois qu’il était fier de sa connaissance des prénoms anglais et sa prononciation et je n’avais pas le courage de le corriger.

D’accord, les Français, je comprends qu’on peut confondre Katie et Kathy à l’oral, mais à l’écrit ? J’ai écrit une douzaine de mèls aux enseignants, et j’ai signé Katie, et presque chaque réponse a adressé « Kathy. »

Il serait plus facile de m’appeler Katherine en France, mais je ne peux pas m’empêcher de dire Katie. Quand on habitait au foyer, j’ai réussi à me présenter comme « Katherine » au début, mais après quelques jours « Katie » est revenue. Puis, un jour au dîner, un mec vraiment désagréable qui aime se moquer des autres pour se sentir plus important (Tom et moi l’appelons Spiky à cause de ses cheveux) m’a demandée, « Alors, c’est Katherine ou Katie ? ». J’ai expliqué que Katie est un diminutif de Katherine. « Ah, c’est plus intime, » il a ricané. En France, les diminutifs sont uniquement pour la famille et les amis proches. Spiky pensait que j’essayais d’être son amie. Et maintenant je ris. « Non, Spi…euh, tout le monde m’appelle Katie chez moi. Katherine, c’est mon nom administratif, et c’est tout. »

Ma mère aimait le prénom « Katie » mais c’est un diminutif, donc elle m’a donné « Katherine » comme prénom afin de m’appeler « Katie. » C’est une règle que ne suivent pas les Français qui adorent les prénoms anglais. J’avais des élèves avec les prénoms Tom, Mike, et Steve, mais ce sont leurs prénoms officiels.

Je ne sais pas si j’ai des lecteurs français, mais si il y en a, voilà une explication pour le prénom américain, Katie.

Phonétiquement, on dit [kedi] (si je me souviens bien de mon cours de phonétiques).

D ? Oui. Aux Etats-Unis, le « t » se prononce souvent comme « d. » Water, par exemple, ou little.

Chez moi, je me présente comme Katherine uniquement quand je parle à la banque, ou quand je dois commander un nouveau certificat de naissance parce que j’en ai besoin pour la sécurité sociale en France.

Kathy- ce n’est pas moi, c’est ma tante et d’autres femmes qui ont une quarantaine d’années.

Voilà. C’est clair ? Une rose embaumerait autant sous un autre nom, et peut-être que je ne changerais pas si j’étais Casey ou Kathy. Mais je suis assez attachée à mon prénom.

In English

Katie.

It’s not a French name, I am aware. But is it so difficult? It’s just 5 letters and 2 syllables.

When I got here, and when I met the teachers and students in my schools, I tried to go by Katherine. After all, it is my name, the one that’s on my birth certificate, and it’s easier in France. It’s a common first name in France, except that it’s always spelled with a “C.” Yet, even if I planned to be Katherine, “Katie” just slipped out a few times in the beginning, and I lost all chances of simplicity.

So, I wasn’t Katherine. But I wasn’t exactly Katie either. The teachers never agreed on what to call me, so I got:

Katelyn

Kelly

Casey

Kate (which still makes me wince since I was called Kate despite myself while at the Red Cross)

Kathy

I have no clue where those first three came from. The forth, I imagine, is because it’s a common English name. The last is the most interesting (it is if you’re a geek like me). When I introduced myself as “Katie” there were certain teachers who thought I was pronouncing “Kathy” with a French accent, as there is no “th” sound in French. One teacher, who is especially good in English, called me Kathy (with the “th”) the entire year. I think he was proud of his knowledge of English first names and of his pronunciation and I didn’t have the heart to correct him.

Ok, French people, I understand how it’s easy to confuse Katie and Kathy orally, but written? I wrote a dozen emails to teachers and I signed them “Katie,” and almost every response was addressed to “Kathy.”

It would be easier to call myself Katherine in France, but I just can’t stop myself from saying Katie. When we lived in the foyer, I succeeded in introducing myself as Katherine at first, but after a few days “Katie” came back. Then, one day at dinner, a very unpleasant guy who likes to make fun of others to make himself feel more important (Tom and I call him Spiky because of his hair) asked me, “So is it Katherine or Katie?” I explained that Katie is a nickname for Katherine. “Oh, it’s an intimate name” he snickered. In France, nicknames are reserved for family and close friends. Spiky thought I was trying to be his friend. And now it’s my turn to laugh. Ha! “No, Spi…um…everyone calls me Katie at home. Katherine is my official name, that’s all.

My mom liked the name “Katie” but it’s a nickname, so she gave me the name “Katherine” so she could call me “Katie.” It’s not a rule that the French really follow. If they give their children traditional French names, that’s what they will go by- except by close family and friends perhaps. But, the French who want to be cool and give American names go straight to the nickname. I had students called Tom, Mike, and Steve, and those were their full names.

I don’t know if I actually have French readers, but if you’re out there, here is an explanation of my very American name.

It sounds more like “Kadie” than “Katie.” In the States, “t” is often pronounced as “d.” Like in water or little.

At home, I introduce myself as Katherine only when I’m talking to the bank, or when I need to order a new birth certificate because I need one for the social security office in France.

Kathy- that’s not me, it’s my aunt and a lot of other women who are in their 40s.

So, there you have it. Is it clear? A rose would smell just as sweet if we called it something else, and maybe I would be the same if I were called Casey or Kathy. But I’m pretty attached to my name.

A Delicious find and a conversation starter

Last week, after my interview with Acadomia, I walked around the area, near l'Opéra Garnier. On my walk I came across La Cure Gourmande. I had already been to this store, but the one on l'Île Saint Louis, and I knew that they like to give out free samples so I stepped inside. The sample cookie was so delicious that I decided to buy a few cookies and a pretty tin as an Easter treat for Tom and myself. I got the tin and 4 cookies (2 almond and 2 chocolate) for just under 9 euros.

On the way home on line 7, I noticed a 60-something year old lady next to me studying my Cure Gourmande bag.

I was listening to my iPod, but after about 5 minutes the curiosity got the best of her and she politely interrupted my music to ask me about the bag. I showed her my tin and cookies and told her where I bought them. She had never heard of the place before. Seeing my opportunity to speak some French with a stranger, I asked "Vous habitez à Paris depuis longtemps?" (Have you lived in Paris for a long time?) "Oui, depuis des années." (Yes, for years.)

Then I saw the look, the "I hear an accent and you're surely not French look," so I told her I was American and she started talking to me in English. Normally, this would bother me, but not this time. She actually told me that my French is very good and that it's nice that some Americans are learning French. I learned that she is from Vietnam, that she lived in New York for several years, and that she has been in Paris for a decade. We talked about how difficult it is to get used to a new place. "It takes a year, no matter where you are. The first year is the hardest." I said that unfortunately I have a little less than a year, but that I've been able to enjoy myself and learn a lot all while dealing with the "first year problems."

We both got off at Tolbiac and went our separate ways- I went home and she went to a Vietnamese restaurant.

Pictures of the tin and cookies:

Oops! I guess I'll have to buy some more.

Joyeux Poisson d'avril!

Poisson d'avril = April Fool's Day, but poisson = fish

After learning about Poisson d'avril in my elementary French classes, it was neat to "experience" it. Really, there's not much to it. It's like April Fool's. Some people play tricks on friends and many completely forget what day it is. During my lunch break at JF, the teachers were trying to come up with a good trick for a colleague. I think they decided on telling her that retirement benefits just changed (she's retiring next year). Unfortunately, I had to leave before seeing it play out.

The biggest difference of course is the fish part. Kids make paper fish and tape them to the backs of friends and teachers. I got two put on my back today. It's a little cultural experience, but it makes me smile.

This day also makes me smile, because 7 years ago today, my then boyfriend said the "L" word for the first time. Je t'aime Thomas A!