No More Monsieur Nice Guy

Every Monday afternoon, I have a class of students in 1ere SPE – spécialité anglais (meaning they should be at a higher level of English, although sometimes it’s hard to tell). They are the one and only group lucky enough to meet with me every week. All the other students have to wait 2 weeks, one month, or even 6 weeks!

So, with that said, you would think that this group would appreciate and respect me a little more, right? I mean, I don’t want them to bow down to me, but I am still a “teacher”. Well, this group is slowly getting used to this idea, but it has been tough. I think out of all my classes, this is the group that I have trouble with the most.

Since day one, I noticed that the behavior of high school students in France is nothing like that of students in the US. Yet, they give there is a different etiquette followed for the teacher-student relationship. For example, students always refer to their teachers as Madame or Monsieur. Depending on the teacher, the students sometimes have to wait in the hallway until the teacher tells them they can come in, or have to stay standing until they are told to sit down.

However, despite this etiquette, students will not hesitate to talk back to their teacher or attempt to annoy them before the lesson starts. Or, at least, that’s my impression.

Another thing that should be noted is that in high school, they are always with the same group of students. It’s not like in the US where you can have 6 different classes with 6 different sets of classmates. My students go to every single class with the same classmates, everyday, all year long. So, the friendships and hierarchy of the class (meaning, everyone knows who the class clown is, the smart one, the quiet one, the lazy one, etc.) only causes them to talk more than usual.

My 1ere SPE class is split into 2 groups when I meet with them. I see each group for only 30 minutes, which is not a lot of time to do a whole lesson, so I am always under pressure to complete a task. With the clock ticking, I try to get them into the classroom and focused as fast as I can. Lucky for me, I have to do this just after their 10-minute break. Yay.

In the first half, I have 9 students. Should be easy, right? Think again.
In this group of 9, there are 2 sets of girls who always sit next to each other and whisper to each other thinking that I can’t hear them. Then, there is a group of 3 girls who always sit in the front. I don’t have any issues with them because they make it easy for it. They are interested in what I have to say and want to practice their English. Then, there are 2 boys. One of which, since day one, has done nothing in my class exempt complain about how boring or easy my lessons are and how he thinks English isn’t important. During the first few sessions, I even asked him if he thought working with me was a waste of time – he simply replied yes.

I am a nice person. And, it takes a lot to get me to be tough. Being nice sometimes means that I get taken advantage of or walked over. This class did just that. They would be quite, but whenever someone didn’t understand something, they would just turn to someone and ask in French, “qu’est qu’il a dit?” as I am still explaining their task.

I would say nothing, but I would try to but into their conversations. But, of course, when I would ask, “Are there any questions?” = Cue for the crikets to start chirping.

After several frustrating sessions with them, I talked to the teacher, who then proceeded to scold them for disrespecting me, on 2 separate occasions. Had I known she was going to do that instead of give me some tips, then I would have kept my mouth shut. I knew the teacher wanted to help me, but she made me look weaker by intervening. And, the first group of students assumed I could not take control.

So on Monday, I passed out a poster I found that informed people of racial discrimination that exists in the South. In the center of the poster were pictures of Martin Luther King, Jr. and Charles Manson. Since it was MLK Day, I figured I would try to discuss what they thought about the poster and racism.

As I helped them read the writing on the poster and define some words, I noticed that the one set of girls was busy cleaning their hands with hand sanitizer and giving some to one of the boys. I glared over at them and gave them a silent warning. The girls understood.

As another student was talking, the boy who had already cleaned his hands leaned back in his chair and tried to start a conversation with the girls.

That was it.

“Go back to class!” – I interrupted the student who was speaking and told the boy to get his things and go back to class with his teacher.

At first, he thought I was joking because he was smiling. But, as I looked him in the eye, I repeated “Go back to class. No one is forcing you to be here”. His smile quickly melted away and he started to beg.

“Non, je vais arrêter(I’m going to stop). Désolé, Monsieur, excusez-moi”.

“I told you to go back to class, please. You are not participating and you are disrupting the class”.

“Are you sure, Monsieur?” – he asked, with a look of fear on his face. At first, I thought to myself, ‘you have got to be kidding me! Are you really asking me if I’m sure I want you out of the classroom?!’

“Yes, I’m sure. I’m not joking. Please, go back to class.”

The room was silent. As he was getting his bag, I lectured the class.

“I know I am not a teacher, but I am a teaching assistant. You will respect me like you respect your teacher. I try to plan fun things for you to do, but when you do not pay attention, I don’t think I should bother to plan anything “fun”. If you do not want to meet with me, then you can stay in class with your teacher. It’s an easy problem to fix”.

Everyone was quiet. I’m sure it was because they did not know what I said, but they knew that they could not get away with any more.

As the boy was opening the door, he turned and asked me again,

“Mais, Monsieur, je suis vraiment désolé. Je ne veux pas…”

“Please, go. I asked you to leave.”

He walked out and started walking down the hall. But, then he came back in and begged one more time. “Monsieur, si je rentre dans la salle, la prof va m’engueuler”, (Sir, if I go back to class, the teacher will yell at me) he said. By now, he was bright red, full of shame, and scared to death. It looked like he wanted to cry. I wanted to laugh.

I gave in. “Ok, but sit over there and be quiet. If I hear you talking to anyone, I will send you to the teacher and I will tell her that I do not want you in my class”. He sat down and the relief on his face was priceless.

After the 30-minute session, they all left the classroom with a very important lesson in mind.

NO MORE MONSIEUR NICE GUY.

They better not push my buttons next week or I will stop teaching their section. I have the right to decide that…and if I don’t, I’ll go on strike for it (the French approach to solving any problem).

Le Dimanche des Rois

Instead of sleeping in and doing nothing but watch music videos on TV all day (I only get 2 channels on my TV – a music channel and a channel dedicated to horses), I woke up early, did some cleaning in my studio and went to Lyon.

Fortunately, there is a bus that takes me from Villefranche to Lyon for only 2E. But, for 1.10E extra, I also get a ticket to use the metro, which is usually 1.60E. It doesn’t seem like a bargain, but considering that with the train I have to pay between 3.20E to 4.80E depending on the time and then have to pay 1.60E every time I use the public transportation in Lyon, the bus is a much cheaper option.

Anyways, I got to Lyon around noon and then went over to Maggie’s place. She invited me to go to a galette tasting party. Similar to what I do with my family, the French and Spanish eat traditional cakes on January 6th to celebrate the arrival of the 3 Kings to greet the baby Jesus. They usually look like this:

Geraldine, the Spanish teacher at the high school Maggie works at, invited her to come over and taste them. Maggie didn’t want to go alone, so she invited me to go with her. I was happy to have gone because I was able to learn a little more about the similarities and differences between cultures.

I recognized the cakes right away. But, I had no idea that the same idea behind them existed. For example, in the French tradition, the cakes were cut into slices. Then, since I was the youngest, I was able to say who got the first piece, second piece, etc. The idea is that I distribute the pieces randomly and hopefully, someone will find the little plastic figure inside their slice. This means that they then have to invite everyone over to their place for a meal on a specific day in late January or February. Maggie and Anne, Geraldine’s friend, were lucky and got the figurines in their slices. In France, whoever finds the figurines, gets to wear a gold paper crown.

In Mexico, or at least at my house, the tradition is to buy a Rosca de Reyes and everyone takes turn cutting a piece, instead of having someone distribute the pieces. Also, the figures tend to be plastic babies, while in France they can be babies, plastic cartoon vegetables, or one of the 3 kings. But, the same concept applies to those who find the baby in their slice – they’ll have to invite everyone over to their house.

All in all, Sunday was a day full of learning. I found out that the French also celebrate with Galette de Rois and also learned that it is okay in the South of Spain to drink white wine and Sprite mixed together to create a very refreshing, yet potentially dangerous, drink. But, I guess it makes sense since in Barcelona, Coke and red wine mixed together is a favorite.

Now, I have the prefect drinks for the warm summer months in California.

What's Next?

So, its another Thursday at work. I don't have classes in the morning, but I still come early to read articles online, check my email, check my bank accounts, etc.

Despite the gloomy day, consisting of a mixture of slush and rain that I had to walk through to get to school, I had the feeling that today was "special".

After looking through my to do lists from the past year in my gmail account, I finally was able to put my finger on it.

A year ago today, I sent my application to the French Embassy in Washington, D.C. to see if I would be accepted.

And now, a year later, I am here and half way done with my contract. It's hard to believe that within the time that I submitted my application to today, there has been a lot that has changed my life. In a way, submitting that application was the first life-changing event.

I graduated from college, I worked for a tutoring company (not the usual employment for a college graduate), I left the country, I left my family, My dad lost his job, My grandparents passed away, and now, I'm having to think about what I am going to to do next.

I now have the option of applying to be an English Assistant in Spain or (crossing my fingers) get into the Master's program in Vermont that I have applied to. Both are only options and not guaranteed.

Only time will tell.

And, until it answers my questions, I'm hoping for the best.

Babel

The orientation on Friday was like the Tower of Babel. For the first time in the history of the Academy of Lyon, they made the English and Spanish assistants meet on the same day and at the same place. For the first half, we were all together in the same auditorium.


3 languages I understood – English, Spanish, and French, surrounded me. The people in charge of us, spoke French, the English assistants spoke English to each other, of course, and the Spanish assistants did the same amongst themselves too, speak Spanish.

During the 15-minute break they gave us, I caught up with the other English assistants, but many of the Spanish assistants came up to me to ask me why they had never seen me before. I explained to them that I was the English assistant and that I knew how to speak Spanish because my parents are from Mexico.

As I explained this to some of the Spanish assistants (who come from Bolivia, Mexico, Costa Rica, Argentina, Chile, El Salvador, and of course Spain), some of the English assistants who didn’t know I spoke Spanish, looked and stared at me in confusion. It was funny to look over at them and see how surprised they were.

As I mentioned before, all of the assistants in the debriefing group spoke French when it was their turn to talk about their experiences. I did the same and did a pretty good job. I admit that I did get a little nervous but I didn’t stop myself.

I guess this day just became another source of inspiration for myself. I was just as surprised as everyone else that I could easily communicate in all 3 languages. I was surprised that my brain didn’t explode. But, I will say that I felt pretty tired, more than usual, by the end of the day and took a nap on the train back to Villefranche.

Now, all I need to do is find someone who can speak Italian so that I can practice it.

The End of the World!

This weekend went by pretty fast. And thankfully, I made it through the snowstorm that had everyone worried.


On Thursday afternoon as I was preparing some lesson plans in the staff computer room, Denise, an English teacher who was sitting next to me using another computer, starts speaking out loud announcing to everyone in the room that she had just received an email informing everyone that there would be no school buses in all of the Rhone department due to the expected snow fall. No one believed her at first, but then as everyone logged in to check and read their emails, they realized she was right.

Some students are not from Villefranche and live at the school in the “dorms”. Since there would be no buses on Friday, they would have to leave that day in order to be able to make it home.

The bell rang and I went to my first afternoon class. By the time I got there, all the students and the teachers who were in class had already heard the news. I could hear the students laughing, cheering, and thanking God for what was happening. All the teachers were a little frustrated and didn’t know what to do since apparently all of them had some assignment due or a test to give them that following day. They had no choice but to postpone the tests since they knew that maybe only half of the students would show on Friday.

After class was over, I made my way back to the staff lounge to check the weather forecast. I was a little worried and scared since I am not used to snow at all. After seeing the precautions that were being taken, I thought that I would impossible for me to know how to handle the situation. I was also scared because I had to go to the language assistant orientation the next day in Lyon.

I look up the weather and I see a map of France pop up – in bright yellow and orange. Yellow meant that there was a level 2 warning and orange was a level 3 (out of a 4 level scale). Guess what color covered the Rhone department? – Orange. It freaked me out a little, but I knew I would be ok.

The next day, Friday, I woke up at 6:30am and the first thing I did as I got out of bed was look out the window to see all the snow. I look outside and everything looks just like it did when I went to sleep. It did not snow at all.

I got to the train station and met up with the other assistants from Villefranche. We took the train to Lyon and then made out way to the Croix-Rousse district of Lyon for the orientation. After the first half of the orientation, which was useless, we were split up into the same groups from last time. We went to our assigned classroom, and I sat facing the window. We were all given a chance to speak of our experiences so far and what we would have liked to be different, which was nice to do. The program is good, but there are a lot of ups and downs. After giving my update and suggestions (which I did in French!!! I was proud of myself), I look out the window and see that there is snow falling all over. The blizzard had started.

I pointed it out to Maggie, another Californian, and we both gave each other the same scared/WTF?! look. Maggie and I became Megan’s laugh for the day. Megan is from Toronto, Canada, so she is used to snow. She made fun of us for the rest of the day.

After getting some Subway sandwiches and going to their apartment, I looked up the next train back home. I left their apartment and started the journey home. The snow was still falling. I get to the train station and notice right away that there is a screen announcing that the weather was starting to cause delays.

I get on the train to Villefranche, which was already 10 minutes late, only to hear an announcement telling everyone that they were not sure when they would be able to depart. This train was supposed to leave at 3:40pm. I knew there was another one at 4:10pm so I went to that train. I get on, get a seat, and then notice that everyone was following behind me. Turned out that they cancelled the 3:40pm train and everyone came to the next one.

Long story short, the only problem I had with the weather was getting home. What usually would have taken me 40 minutes took almost 2 hours.

But, as I am working on this in my apartment, there is a blizzard going on outside right now, so I have no idea how it will be tomorrow.

2010

Happy New Year!

I still can't believe that the double digits have started. Another year, and another year of opportunities, I hope.

I had a great time enjoying the cold weather, hosting some friends from Mexico, and spending the holidays the French way with my "adopted" French family - I hope I can call them that because they have done so much for me. I owe them a lot!!!!

As I mentioned before, I'm looking forward to this year being full of new changes. I am in the process of applying to what I think is the perfect graduate school program for me - I am applying to become a  grad student and Middlebury College in Vermont and earn my MA in Mediterreanean Studies. With this program, I am required to take all of my courses in 2 languages (choices being: French, Spanish, or Italian) and also required to study a year abroad. So, if all goes well, I plan on continuing my studies in French and Italian and might be back in Europe again. I'm really hoping to get accepted!!!

I only have 4 months left in France and I am hoping that I will make the most of it. My French is still decent and probably not at the level it should be at. But, I've noticed that it depends on the situation that I find myself in. When I am at work for example, I make mistakes because I always second guess myself because of the fear that since the people I work with are teachers, they'll think I'm dumb. But, when I'm on my own with a stranger I feel no pressure and manage just fine. When I am around Guillaume and his friends, I am terrified to speak because I don't know any of the slang....but I manage even though I speak very proper.

Anyways, Chrismas was fun. We went to the Christmas Mass and then had dinner. We ate foie gras, salmon, and lots of chocolate. On Christmas Day, we went over to Guillaume's Aunt's house where we found the rest of the family - in total, there were 35 adults and children. I met just about everyone in the family (from Guillaume's Mom's side) . We got there at 1 pm and then started with the apero (aperitif). We all then sat down and started eating. We ate non stop for hours, taking breaks between one dish and the next. After eating, we continued to play board games, charades, bulotte, etc. Guillaume, his sisters, his 2 cousins, I did not leave the house until 3am the next morning! We were there for 12 hours! I had never celebrated christmas like that before.

New Year's - from what I remember, we went all the way to the Haute Loire, another region in France next to Rhone. Some of Guillaume's friends organised the event and managed to rent out a room in a club. For 20 euros, I had all you can eat and drink for the entire night. With that said, I drank. And Drank. And eventually put to sleep. I do remember going around and saying Happy New Year to everyone - which in France consists of kissing everyone on both cheeks and saying meilleurs voeux - although the countdown was non existant. I was expecting everyone to come together and countdown as usual but instead, someone just glanced at their cell phone and started the kiss.

We all slept at the club and ate the leftovers the next day. I woke up and was still drunk. We didnt leave until late in the afternoon only to stop at a Mcdonald's. We got back to Guillaume's house around 6pm and went to sleep at 8pm. I slept until 9 the next morning. The first days of the year where a blur.

Now, I'm back at work and already counting down the days until the next break. I have 2 weeks off in February. I am planning on maybe going to Amsterdam with Guillaume and maybe I will do some more traveling with Emily, an old co-worker from the EAP office that will soon be in Milan as a teaching assistant as well.

I will post pictures up for December soon. sorry for the lack of editing for this blog, but I write as I'm thinking. And, sorry if that bothers you.

Happy New Year and best wishes to you all.