Archive: can you speak French yet?

First published by me Nov 17, 2013

I’d like to address a myth that seems to have been lingering around my year abroad experience for a little too long now: Can I speak French? I figured that I should probably let you all know the truth.

First of all, two potential readings of this question:

a) Am I capable of speaking French?

b) Am I allowed to speak French in France?

I may not be the typical third-year Erasmus student turned teacher, but these two readings will generate different answers for me every time the question is asked.

When I walk into some of my classes for the first time, I am annoyingly introduced as ‘l’assistante qui ne parle pas le français’ (the assistant who doesn’t speak French). Whether the teacher believes that I have tried (and failed) to speak French properly, or whether I am simply the focus of an elaborate lie designed to force English conversation out of the pupils is down to your own interpretation. Either way, I tend to make it clear within the next ten minutes that I do indeed understand the conversation happening to my left-hand side about whether I have to commute in from England every day or not, and that no, I do not commute in. That would be ridiculous.

Now, my favourite thing to do in this situation is to wait for the inevitable “mais, elle comprend français?!” and nod in comprehension. Yes I do understand French. Mind blown.

Surely the students would have more respect for a languages teacher who can already speak two or more languages than a teacher who refuses to learn the language of the country he/she lives in, right?

The point is not that I don’t know how to speak French, more that I’m not actually allowed to speak French in the classroom. Unlike in England, where my first experience of a class spoken entirely in the target language happened to be in the first week of university (my poor dazed fresher self was in no way prepared for such a step up), the students here are required to speak in the target language from 6e (eleven years old).

In one of my two schools, I tend to teach the whole class while the teacher observes, and intervenes when she has a question/point to make. This actually helps, as the students who sit in wide-eyed nervous silence while I teach them about Bonfire Night will wait until the teacher asks them to translate into their own language before owning up to a complete lack of comprehension on the subject.

I teach at the second school all on my own, and this gives me a little more space. I will speak English for the majority of the lesson, if only for convenience, and I work through the lessons quite efficiently using both languages I have to offer.

Now, the best thing about being a teacher at my age is that I’m not too disconnected from high school myself. Next year will mark the tenth year anniversary since I started high school, and I know every trick in the book. Trust me.

I know how and when to act when one of the boys finds the wall décor to be more worthwhile reading material. I know just how surprised the girl at the back is when I ask her to read out one of the slides, because the teacher warned me that she’ll probably just sleep through the lesson.

As I spend more and more time at each school, it is becoming obvious that l’anglaise can in fact parle le bon français. She can understand when you’re making jokes across the classroom. She can reply to any questions you have, even if you do mutter them to yourself, under your breath.

I’ve been there before. Learning a language is difficult, particularly so when the teacher stood up in front of you is not supposed to respond in your native language.  But am I able to speak the language? Obviously.

Le Majordome (The Butler). Would highly recommend this film, in French or English.

I have opened up a bank account, sorted out a phone contract, moved into a foyer, complained about the bank account, complained about the contract, found somewhere else to live, been to the cinema, gotten lost in Paris, found my way around Paris, helped tourists find their way around Paris, all in French. My bank vocabulary has improved and I am about to move into a house of seven French people.

As soon as somebody figures out I speak English (rough estimate time of 5 seconds, unless said person is in any way inebriated), however, the fact that I can speak French no longer implies. If they themselves can speak English, then I will be forced to wait while they introduce themselves and ask how I am; if they can’t speak English themselves, they will undoubtedly go and find someone who can.

But yes, I can speak French. I can hold a conversation, I understand a slight majority of spoken French, and I am now adept in text talk French style. Although I admire people who do this, I would never have put myself in such a situation if I did not have at least a basic vocabulary. What did you expect?