High school French teaching ??! (Part 2)

Not long after guest teaching at a Rockford high school, I attended a workshop for my local school district. The goal was to discuss the district's strategic 5 year plan with community stakeholders. Participants included residents, parents, teachers, administrators, school board members, city council members, and the district superintendent. It was eye-opening on many levels.

The last time I'd been in a high school had probably been at least 10 years ago and now I'd found myself in them two times in about a week for two seemingly different reasons. I say "seemingly" because in the first instance I was a professional who put my profession front and center. I expected my role as a resident and parent of a soon to be kindergartner to be central to the experience at the school district workshop. I was surprised to discover how much my profession infused my comments and questions that day. It's made me realize the extent to which my parenting is informed by my teaching.

Identify concerns and actions that can be taken
Identify actions to achieve the district's mission

I took copious notes throughout the day.
I saved the instructions for each of the discussion activities.

A snapshot of some key topics that came up

• our district is de-emphasizing homework (hurray! From what I've read the data on its effectiveness is highly mixed anyway)
• they are gradually building a network to address economic problems and traumas (tons of kids in the district experience trauma and can't function academic without those needs being addressed)
• DOGS-Dads of Great Kids-a program that puts good men in touch with students who may not have strong male role models
• kindergarten inquiry-based model (hurray! The research I've read said play-based and inquiry based learning is far more effective)
• teacher shortage-Quelle surprise. The governor and the Republicans in the state have decimated teacher compensation, increased the emphasis on standardized testing and dismantled union protections. Why tolerate that when you can go elsewhere?
• city leaders have constrained housing development to preserve quaint nature of town but they also want student growth. Young families want good housing near good schools. One part of this equation needs to bend.
• the district needs better PR to publicize the many positive things happening. I absolutely agree with this, but I wonder how to achieve it because PR can sound a lot like boasting which is unacceptable for women. I see the push in recent years for teacher accountability, pay tied to student performance, the need for standardized tests to gauge performance and thus pay, the persistent denigration of the profession and a slow infantilization of teachers. I can't think of a similar male-dominated profession that is as thoroughly degraded. I hypothesize that the scrutiny is possible because so many women work as teachers, and professional women are not taken as seriously as professional men in many cases. So how to do it without sounding pushy and defying other gender codes associated with the field of teaching?

I also networked with:

• the founder of an organization that promotes diversity, World of Change Leaders, Inc
• the director of curriculum in the high school to explore teaching French as part of an extra-curricular enrichment (the district cut French almost 10 years ago and now offers Spanish and German)

Why on earth would the district pick German (spoken in two countries-Germany and Austria, and parts of a third-Switzerland) over French? The director of curriculum aid by cutting it they prioritized music-strings. What politics were in play at the time? If global awareness is a key goal for the district, how do you advance German as the better choice to achieve that when French is FAR more global?

The bright side is, thanks to Governor Scott Walker, in Wisconsin you can teach in the public schools without formal credentials as long as you have experience or expertise in the field. I plan to offer an enrichment experience for high school students next year with the help of the director of curriculum.

Over the course of the day we worked in small groups and then at the end of the day shared them with the whole group. The facilitator listened for commonalities and sought input for grouping similar things together so we could whittle down the list to a manageable number of areas for improvement. At my table were two para-teachers who support ESL students in the district. There was a former middle and high school Spanish teacher (who also speaks Swedish and German, I think). There was a parent who speaks German and wanted her kids to be exposed to languages. Thus, everyone was an advocate for language teaching. 

Someone at a table on the other side of the gymnasium asked if languages could be grouped with arts and computers? Instantly, the four language teachers at the table shouted "NO!!" so forcefully it resonated throughout the large space. Some people chuckled at our response, but we exchanged the knowing looks that come from regularly being asked similar ignorant questions. 

The conversation and negotiation continued. We got stickers to put next to the issues we felt were the most important. They were written on big pads of paper on easels. Several tables, not just ours, talked about the importance of language and culture. But, out of about 100 people only 12 people prioritized multilingualism, only 27 prioritized "language, arts/computers in K-12 ed." (Obviously, we lost the battle over tying languages to computers). 

The most frustrating aspect of the push to group languages with technology is it pits against each other two things that are both necessary in today's society. Americans loathe languages. They love technology. When given a choice for language or a computer class, most are going to choose the former. It presents educational opportunities in a scarcity model that promotes mutual exclusivity. It says, "We only have enough money for one of these things at a time, you the parent and student have to choose one of them. You can't do both." It's part of the much broader trend to constantly demand teachers, especially language teachers, to justify their jobs. If I and other language teachers could just focus on teaching and ignore promotion, recruiting and retention our jobs would be infinitely easier. I long for the day when my job is as readily and reflexively accepted by society as engineering or health care.

Teaching High School French???!! (Part 1)

A few weeks ago I was invited at the behest of a former student, the second to graduate with a French minor since I started at my university and revitalized the French program there, to work with a high school French teacher who was struggling to promote French and keep students interested in the language. He is working on his Master's in Teaching and is fulfilling observation hours in her classroom.

I arrived early and waited for the class to begin, which gave me time to wonder when was the last time I'd set foot in a high school? It's been so long I couldn't conclusively answer. As I waited, an administrator walked the halls querying students in them after classes had begun to gently but firmly guide them to their destinations. Overhearing the short conversations and the glimpses of behavioral and personal problems they offered reaffirmed my satisfaction with teaching at the college level. I have noticed more behavioral problems this semester among my students, and I knew they have personal problems that eclipse what most high school students deal with, but overall, they bring greater maturity and prior knowledge to our classrooms that makes my job easier in some ways.

In the guest teaching I did I shared reasons for learning French, really cool recent job opportunities around the world, and anecdotes about my own language learning and the amazing experiences of some French graduates I know. (Hot air balloon pilot in Chantilly, France; lawyer who started her own organization to fight human trafficking, graduate student in Spanish, to name a few). I created a few activities to get the students engaged while also addressing their perceptions about studying the language. I adapted when the projector initially inverted my PowerPoint and it was illegible for much of the lesson. I felt confident navigating the unfamiliar classroom and trying to connect with unfamiliar students. It was deeply gratifying to realize how far I have come as a teacher.

I once had a passionate discussion with a close friend in college who was majoring in French education to become a high school teacher. He adamantly insisted that knowing pedagogy and methodology was vastly more important than the content. I strenuously disagreed at the time. 20 years later I totally concede the point to him. When I started teaching college French as a teaching assistant 15 years ago I would never have been able to handle that high school classroom environment. Even 10 years ago I would have struggled. I would have foregrounded the cool info I intended to share and wouldn't have thought about how to present it in an engaging, active way that would resonate with the students.

The invitation to guest teach this class was rewarding in 2 key ways:

1. it gave me an invaluable chance to reflect on my trajectory as a teacher
2. it is helping create a pathway between high school and college French (thanks in part to campus visits coordinated with the French teacher at a second high school in Rockford) so the transition can be more seamless and students can apply their language skills sooner and in more satisfying ways

Where Does Program Promotion Fit in the Tenure Picture?

I'm applying for tenure this fall which means I have to prepare a sizable dossier with a long self-evaluation enumerating all the ways I'm awesome. I have a working document with a table of the tenure criteria, the ways I'm meeting them, and how I'm addressing shortcomings. I'm not worried overall, but I am a bit concerning about the balance of high I spend my time versus how I will be evaluated. This is especially tricky with regards to promoting French courses.

I've often said I would love to be in a field that no one questions the value of. Electrical engineer for a utility company? Only the weirdos who find camping fun and doomsday-ers living off the grid would say making electricity is frivolous. If you must study another language (when many people in the U.S. think knowing one, English of course, is more than enough), well that choice should obviously be Spanish or "Chinese" (the superficiality of this term is a topic for another day). Tell people you teach French and 9 times out of 10 the conversation will veer in the direction of "what can you do with proficiency in French."

I battle these stereotypes and perceptions pretty much everyday. The battlefield isn't the classroom of course, it's in my students' homes 6 years in the past when they likely first had the chance to think about studying a language. If their middle school even offered another language. If they could justify spending the time on it when they likely had to figure out how to squeeze in music, art, coding, sports and many other "good for you" subjects and activities. So how do I possibly override at least 6 years of baggage (not including the way the foreign languages and the humanities more broadly are portrayed these days)? Without a time machine? Without legal access to my students' homes?

At the same time, my university is increasingly concerned by small class sizes. We sell ourselves to prospective students as offering an intimate experience thanks to small class sizes. But not too small. And the meager 3-5 students I get in most classes is barely cutting it. I must have influential guardian angels in the right places because as I type that it becomes more obvious that what I do is ripe for elimination.

So on top of teaching 4 classes, undertaking professional development and scholarship like conference presentations and article writing, participating in community events both on campus and beyond, I also bear responsibility for the whole French program. The curriculum, pedagogy, and yes, sigh, recruitment. Where exactly do I place this sizable, ongoing, relentless, thankless task? In the "excellent of teaching" category of the tenure evaluation? None of the components really captures recruiting, retention and promotion. "Service to the college community"? Hmmm...it would be a stretch and utterly pompous of me to say my classes are a "service" to the community. "Scholarly activity and professional activity." This work is definitely not scholarly but maybe "professional"? Oops. The category description says "which includes membership in professional organizations in one's discipline and presentations at professional meetings." Guess it doesn't fit there. Near as I can figure "Professional Conduct" is the best fit. Described as "(1) conduct[ing] oneself professionally and ethically towards students and colleagues; and (2) display[ing] emotional and intellectual maturity that will enable one to serve as a role model for students" I think the best case I can make is that most of the recruiting, promotion and retention I do is underscored by the "real world" value of studying French and by extension, studying it can open up "professional opportunities." I've worked in international business; I've lived, worked and traveled abroad; I network with business professionals in a variety of fields so I guess I'm a role model for students (who I want to use their French for professional purposes someday.) These mental gymnastics leave me exhausted.

I've given a snapshot of my professional life. Multiply me by the thousands of French teachers and professors in the U.S. who also bear sole or almost sole responsibility for their programs. Who are expected to be, at least at the college level, experts in the classroom, solid generalists with knowledge of the whole canon of French literature and probably most of francophone lit as well, active scholars, leaders of study abroad programs, and innovators of curriculum. Thanks to cutbacks in many places, they are probably the only person or maybe 1 of 2 people who can do all of this for their programs. Did I mention exhaustion?

How do I reconcile the official tenure criteria with the (perceived anyway) need to invest time and energy in recruiting, retention and promotion? If I focus on the former and abandon the latter I will find myself out of a job. If I spend too much time on the latter I sacrifice the former and run the risk of losing tenure and the meager stability it affords me.

Summer Goals

I think every teacher grapples with this dilemma: there is a multitude of things you want to accomplish because you finally have some unstructured time after approximately 9 months of frenzy. You are looking forward to many if not all of these tasks. You can't wait to get started on them. And yet you fail to accomplish even a fraction because you're paralyzed, largely because of the aforementioned lack of structure that gives you the illusion of amplitude and blinds you to the realities of the timeframe you actually have to work with. You feel something like "I must accomplish ALL THE THINGS. NOW." And end up accomplishing virtually nothing.

I'm going to try to remedy this by identifying my summer goals, scheduling them on specific days and times over the summer so they are distributed and represented, and then check back in with myself in August. If I don't "schedule" different things I find I end up throwing all my time at one task when I intended to do many.

My goals:

• more or less finish my tenure dossier so some light revising is all I have left to do in August (I have a thorough outline done so far.)
• read the novels I've assigned in a new history/French lit class this fall
• prepare my syllabi and supporting documents for the first days of classes (one class is almost done)
• prepare the major and/or new-to-me activities for my courses
• file the piles of papers I've accumulated
• catch up with reading the various magazines I've received the past year, especially the issues of The Language Educator (only one left!), The French Review and Foreign Language Annals
• tweak the formatting and submit an article on an Algerian film
• identify a journal and start formatting an article on an Algerian novel
• cook more (especially recipes I've clipped and saved with the intention to try them)
• Skype or facetime with some beloved friends I rarely get to see (did one a few weeks ago, good phone conversations with others recently so I'm making progress!)
• exercise at least 3 times per week (so far so good, I'm able to comfortably run again without knee pain)
• read for pleasure (working on La Peste [The Plague] by Albert Camus in print and The Little Paris Bookshop in audio)
• publicize the amazing final projects my students did this past semester. The constant cloud of promoting French and retaining students is exhausting and the topic of a separate post (reached out to some colleagues in marketing which will be a slow process.)

                                          Intermediate French journal from "trip" to France

                                     
                                      Planning and executing a francophone breakfast in 101

Reflecting on the Attacks on My Second Home

In January and November of 2015 serious violence erupted in France. In January was the bombing of the Charlie Hebdo headquarters. November was the series of ISIS attacks at the Stade de France, Bataclan concert hall, and other sites. Like many people on social media, I felt compelled to post memes and change my profile pictures in solidarity and support with the French people.

Not long after, I saw some thoughtful critiques of the actions like I took. Basically, why were people inspired to publicize their solidarity with attacks on France, when there are so many other places in their world where atrocities occur every day and the average person never acknowledges them, let alone take the time to change their profile. I thought that was a good point.

The sentiment is certainly true, I AM against terrorism (and violence, inequality, sexism, racism, hypocrisy, homophobia, sweet and savory food mixed together, chocolate-covered fruit, mosquitos and a multitude of other things), but there was something different about Paris.

After some soul-searching here's what I've come up with and I think it might hold true for other people. Paris is the only major city in the entire world that I feel truly comfortable in. I confidently navigate the public transit there. I have explored almost every neighborhood at some point, even "les quartiers chauds." I've spent time there with my loved ones and experienced some of the most important events in my life there.

I have cumulatively spent close to 2 years of my life in France. I've spent 25 years of life studying the language and culture of the place. Not only have I traveled, but I have LIVED there-I had my own apartment, phone, utility bill, and checking account there.

All of that means I am attached to that place like no other. It was not a place that was "given" to me by someone else, like the city I grew up in, which my parents chose. It was not a place that I compromised on like my current home which is partway between my job and my husband's. Paris and France feel like "mine." It's the #1 tourist destination in the world by most estimates (followed closely by London, but I'm pretty sure Paris is still winning). Which means millions of people have visited and have developed attachments to it.

How many people have visited Tunisia? Mali? Syria? Iraq? These aren't considered "safe" destinations for many reasons beyond the geo-political ones that are the focus of the 24 hour news cycle. There IS eurocentrism afoot in the outpouring of love for France (and to a lesser degree, Belgium). By extension you could make a case there is racism afoot. But there is also a practical side. France is accessible in ways that west or north Africa are not (linguistically, culturally, logistically, etc). People NEED to visit more places. We NEED to diversify our travel destinations. It's the best way to humanize the cultures we don't understand. But until that is possible, people's attachments will remain with the places they have been themselves; the places they've seen in films and sitcoms; the places evoked in art, literature and history. As Hemingway wrote,

Once you've been there it becomes a part of you. Not at the expense of another place or another group of people, but just a profound experience in its own right.

Bouquins and Bewilderment

There are a lot of things to love about the French language and culture(s). High on my list is the word "bouquin" and its verb partner "bouquiner." These are essentially slang terms for "book" and "to read." If language is a reflection of culture, what does it say that a group of people have created a colloquial word for reading? French francs used to have great writers are artists on them before they changed to the euro (maybe paper euros still have them...I should have looked more closely.) The French have an institution devoted to honoring and recognizing the works of writers and thinkers (the Académie Française). Studies have shown that until recently reading was favored over T.V. watching as a typical leisure activity.

I am a bibliophile myself. I have long loved the smell of musty books, probably thanks to my maternal grandmother. I happily inherited classic volumes from her and my mother. I acquired more at a bookstore in Wisconsin that was housed in a renovated silo. I could lose myself for hours in a library or bookstore. I acquire books WAY faster than I can read them, as the piles on my bedside table can attest.

On my recent trip to France I savored time in bookstores on four different occasions.

On the first I stocked up on a few new children's books for my daughter. Luckily she loves them and has added the words "monstre," "aie," "loup" and "peur" to her vocabulary thanks to them. Although I was focused mostly on the stories themselves when picking them out, I was slightly disappointed by the homogeneity of the illustrations. Most were flat renderings with a limited color palette. It made me appreciate the creativity of classics like The Very Hungry Caterpillar which retains brush strokes and allows one color to shine through the one laid on top.

On the second, in Aix-en-Provence, I wanted to find some books on migritude. Having read about this literary movement in sources like The New York Times and having already read a few books by Fatou Diome, one of its principal participants, I wanted to find more. When I discovered a huge bookstore in the center of Aix, a city known for its diverse student population and a region that attracts immigrants and visitors from much of the francophone world, I thought it would be a good starting point. Unfortunately, the clerk working that day had never heard of "migritude" or any associated authors. She located three of Diome's books but couldn't be of more help than that.

This experience has made me wonder about the state of francophone literature within France and outside it.  My French parents, sister and her siblings have studied few, if any, francophone works and in some cases have never heard about authors from the francophone canon. Are the drivers of francophone studies largely located outside of France? One possible indicator can be found in the advisory boards of academic journals. Most of the biggest Names work in the U.S. or U.K. Hmmm...

Third, the classification system used at a bookstore on rue Mouffetard in Paris was enlightening. In glancing at the shelves I noticed a section of "Anglophone" literature, one devoted to "La Caraïbe et Afrique" and a third with literature from the Maghreb and Mashreq (although I can't remember the exact title of this section). To my surprise the Caribbean/African section contained books by Maya Angelou and Dave Eggers. Nina Bouraoui and Leïla Sebbar, however, were integrated in the stacks of "French" authors. When I asked the woman working she thought about it for a moment then explained it had more to do with the authors' subject matter and sensibilities than their origins. This fascinates me. In my mind, no contemporary author better embodies American experiences than Angelou. I don't recall a strong "Caribbean" or "African" current in her works. Eggers' body of work explores a range of subjects and genres. For example, Zeitoun is a nonfiction book that looks at a Syrian-American impacted by Hurricane Katrina. What is the What is a novel following a Sudanese refugee. A Heartbreaking Work of Staggering Genius is a memoir about his life. Other topics include world travel, Saudi Arabia and working in corporate America. His "Caribbean" or "African" sensibilities elude me. Yet I use the word "enlightening" because the organization of this one bookstore perfectly illustrates something many of us take for granted: the whole world is organized according to individual choices. Those choices are based on an infinite number of reasons. They are all subjective at some level. There is no single way in which to categorize a group of something which means there is also no "right" way to group it either.

I suspect the bookstore's owners who trying to transcend geo-political boundaries when they decided to group books by topic or "sensibility." How do you neatly categorize a group of authors like Bouraoui, or Sebbar, who have parents of different origins? Or Marguerite Duras and Albert Camus whose parents were of the same origin (French) but who grew up far from metropolitan France in what were French colonies (Indochina and Algeria, respectively)? Better yet, how do you justify grouping all four together as this bookstore did? How many different categories would you have to create in order to give each group its own unique identity? And yet, if everything in the whole store were simply shelved according to author's last name, how much unnecessary scanning would customers have to do?

Fourth, the bookstore located at the Institut du monde arabe. For a francophoniste it was heaven. 

There was no need to ask where the "francophone" authors were located. Virtually everything was francophone. There was no disappointment to see only the most canonical works that I already own to be found. There were numerous new works by my favorite authors. I could have spent a fortune and hours there. In the end I bought only one book by Maïssa Bey, a short play she recently wrote, Tu vois c'que j'veux dire?, because I think it will be short, pithy, and accessible to my upper level students.

These four experiences illustrate the trajectory my own reading has taken. I began college with a cursory (at best) understanding of francophone literature and no interest in children's literature. Now I specialize in francophone literature, interrogate the ways it is classified, and seek ways to make it accessible for my students. Oh, to have a leveled library for them, where they would have a wealth of options at the right level the foster their language competence. Now I am a bit of a children's book snob. Clearly taste, like language choice, is reflective of experience.

Aller/Retour: Reflections on France 8 Years Later

I spent just over two weeks in France with a diverse group from my university. By diverse I mean an art history professor, her husband, six art history students, a retired music professor who went for fun, a 60+ year old French student, the biological mother of an art history student who also joined just for fun, and a non-traditional student originally from Guatemala who recently graduated and wanted to add more international travel to her resume. We spent the bulk of our time in Paris, bien sûr, and a few days in Aix-en-Provence and Marseille.

View from the Marseille train station. 

It had been eight years since my last trip to France. The last time I was there I was still a student working on my PhD. I was the co-chaperone to a group of high school students. We used a private bus and French guide to lead us from Paris through Normandie and Bretagne. The students stayed with French families in Rennes and I stayed with my own near Nantes.

There were many similarities between the two trips. My favorite foods haven't changed (chèvre, coconut anything, hazelnut anything, croissants aux amandes, rillettes, galettes, Muscadet, etc) and my favorite sites/activities are about the same ("owning" a table at a café for an hour or so of reading and writing, any kind of castle, the Musée d'Orsay, rue Mouffetard, boulevard St. Michel).

A lot of things were different, though. There were places I re-visited and re-appreciated.

There were things I did, tried or saw for the first time. Like this sculpture in Place Sarte/Beauvoir near St. Germain des Près in Paris.

Like this example of street art off of rue Mouffetard in Paris

Or Canal St. Martin in eastern Paris, a neighborhood gaining in popularity thanks to its reputation as a hipster enclave

And this Algerian pastry shop in the same neighborhood

I'd been to Marseille before and loved its bright, urban vibe, but I hadn't ventured to the islands just off its coast including Château d'If. My first visit there cultivated my love of Maghrébin pastries but this trip I shared them with the students and made it part of a lesson on France's diversity.

I'd long wanted to visit the Institut du monde arabe and finally made it on my last day. This is a close up of the windows along its facade. The building's architecture and position perfectly reflect its purpose and contents.

I noticed several social changes as well. For example:

• many, many people were exercising in Paris, notably by running laps in the Luxembourg garden. No one looked strangely at them as they did me when I went running in France last time
• very few people smoked
• portion sizes in restaurants were huge and several restaurants offered (unsolicited!) to give out doggie bags
• most of the students did not speak French and yet they had no trouble with shopkeepers, waiters, or customer service agents who were more than willing, and in some case eager, to speak English
• throughout Paris there were many more locals with Asian roots than I'd ever noticed before
• Maghrébins were more mainstream than ever before as evidenced in the popularity of pâtisseries, restaurants, and boutiques managed by them and located in heavily touristed areas. My favorite off of boulevard St. Michel in Paris had been renovated since my last pilgrimage. In the past I was usually the only one there. This time there were six people (French, judging from their accents) ahead of me and three more behind. The daughter of one of my students lives just down the street and attests to its popularity with the locals
• despite of, or perhaps because of, the Front National swept the elections while I was there, undoubtedly changing the makeup of the Assemblée nationale and France's representation in the EU