Ecole

[The last few posts were written when they happened, but typed up later, hence the dates being a bit out.]

I had my last day at school today. The typical mix of lessons ranging from temping jobs to obesity. Also in typical fashion, my last class was cancelled at the last minute. So much for dramatic au revoirs. As if rain wasn't a bad enough start to the morning, the drinks machine in the staffroom was out of order. Quelle desastre. Lots of panicky profs twitching around in search of a caffeine fix and no hot choccy for my breakfast.

I've not written much about my experiences in the schools, aside from a few funny incidents. For the large part, this has been because I've spent far more time doing other things. Being an assistant can definitely be what you make it; it can define a year abroad, or it can simply be one experience amongst many others. The three schools have swapped around in my mental list of Happy Places, although all have had their sins and their saving graces.

- The collège (middle school) with the 'problem children' turned out to also have some lovely kids, and the rather sparse staffroom became a hub of sociable bodies and home-made cake at break time.

- The collège with the climbing wall and rural appeal had lovely English teachers, but the other teachers never replied to my cheery 'bonjours' and talked over me, passed chocolates around everyone except me, and generally stared at me as if I had a cow stuck on my head. Despite this, it was really nice sticking with the same classes and watching them progress. It also had the most impressive array of spirits and chocolates in the staffroom, but no hot chocolate.

- The lycée had some absolutely lovely classes and some really awful ones. It was nice having in-depth discussions with some classes and the English teachers were the most bonded group of all the schools, perhaps because there were more of them. The staff room had very comfy seats and a resident artist, who went round drawing caricatures of the various colourful characters floating around. Then again, there were other times, in lessons, when irate frothing in English had no effect whatsoever on the gum-chewing, frantically texting adolescents slumped on the tables in front of me.

Lesson Learned

1. School uniform
French schoolkids don't wear school uniform. Aside from much mirth when viewing pictures of British children (quickly cut off when reminded that we don't start school at 8am or go in on Saturday mornings), this should mean that they have much more opportunity for personal expression. So why, why, why do they all dress the same?! The main uniform seems to be black and dark colours. I started rebelling by wearing a colourful top and stood out a mile (which was a relief after being mistaken for a student by various overzealous teachers trying to ban me from the staffroom). There were, of course, various 'alternative' kids, who all wore exactly the same uniform of baggy trousers and rainbow bags from the 'alternative' shop in town. Some from both ends of this magnificent spectrum of diversity managed to look very smart and glamorous. Others, with their enormous flashy trainers, white tracksuit trousers and bumbags (no, I kid you not) prevented any lessons on chavs, for fear of misunderstanding.

2. Teachers
Almost without exception, all the teachers dressed very well, especially the language teachers. No stereotypes of worn jackets with leather elbow patches here; they were a very glamorous bunch. In contrast to this, there was a surprising lack of self-confidence amongst many of the better English-speakers. Perhaps it was daunting being faced with a native speaker, although any doubts must have been removed once they heard my French! It was difficult to reassure someone that their English was fine when they seemed to have adopted the rather English response of a reluctance to believe compliments. Then again, maybe they just didn't believe me: my own English seemed to flounder desperately when put on the spot.
Felicity, could you just spell ostentatiously aloud for us?
Do you say sh-edule or sk-edule?
What's the English for 'ski piste'?
Why don't you give a little presentation about St George's day...now?
And countless other examples, all met with hesitation, much doubt and grovelling apologies as I butchered my own language.

3. Teaching English
I quickly learnt what worked and what didn't.

- 'You need a sheet' was inevitably greeted with great mirth, as fifteen French kids heard 'You need a shit'.

- Repetition exercises had to have a clear end, or fifteen joyous voices would repeat my desperate pleas to get them to stop:
Me: 'Okay, good'
Class: 'Ohh-kaay goood'
Me: 'No, that's finished now'
Class: 'Non, zat's feeneeshed now'
Me (gesturing wildly): 'STOP!'
Class (gesturing wildly): 'STOP!'

- When spelling words aloud, any hesitations were interpreted as letters by confused students. 'Er' is the French for E. 'Oh' is O, and so on. Not helped by E being the sound for I in French, and G and J being the other way round.
A simple question: 'Feeleeseetee: how do you write 'get' in 'what do I get?'
+ A simple response: 'Okay, er...G...E...T...er...question mark'.
= A crazy new word: 'Okejitquestion Marc'

- It is essential to make it really obvious when a question requires an answer and not just repetition. A friend teaching in a primary school found it rather frustrating when the entire class cheerily responded to 'How are you?' with 'How are you?'. I had similar examples in a couple of the colleges:
'Who can tell me the French for 'factory'?
Fifteen hand enthusiastically shoot up. Excellent.
'Zee French for factory!'
'No, I'm asking a question: Who can tell me the French for 'factory'?'
'Oo can till me zee French for factory?'
'No, no, no, I want an answer! Never mind; it's 'usine''. A hand shoots up again. 'Yes?'
'Usine is 'factory'!!'.
Yes, thank you for that masterful insight...

- Despite these miscommunications, I generally really enjoyed teaching. We had some cracking lessons, with my favourites being a re-enactment of a section from a film and a Marmite tasting session. It was great experiencing three schools and seeing the differences, and really brought back memories of my French lessons.