From Learners to Speakers

Qu’est-ce que signifie ‘apprivoiser’?

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- Qu’est-ce que signifie ‘apprivoiser’? 

[“What does it mean, ‘tame’?” asked the Little Prince.]

- C'est une chose trop oubliée, dit le renard. Ça signifie “créer des liens”. … Les hommes ont oublié cette vérité, mais tu ne dois pas l'oublier. Tu deviens responsable pour toujours de ce que tu as apprivoisé.” 

[“It’s something too often forgotten,” said the fox. “It means ‘to create connections’ … Man has forgotten this truth, but you must never forget it. You are responsible, forever, for what you have tamed.”]

- Antoine de Saint-Exupery, Le Petit Prince

*****

“Vous devenez responsable pour toujours de ce que vous avez apprivoisé.” That’s the last thing that I tell each class before they leave the room. We’re down to the final moments now, the clock ticking away at our time together, time that felt so plentiful even just a few weeks ago and that now feels all too short. We have mere minutes left as the community we have built.

As I look at my class one last time, I can’t help but think about how we got here. I remember the first week of class, the only week they were quiet before class started. They begin so stiff, with voices that are timid to share what they are learning. Slumped shoulders and wide eyes reflect the question I know they are all thinking as each day passes and the add/drop deadline looms ever closer: Can I really do this? They still wonder when, after the first week, they are forming their first independent sentences. I watch them doubt themselves, and yet have no doubts about their peers.

The deadline passes. There’s no turning back now, and they all know it. I think that’s why the voices that start quiet and timid soon become loud with laughter that often fills the room. Numbers are exchanged; connections are forged; trust is built; friendships are formed. Before long, I begin to overhear students sharing weekend plans, arranging study sessions, and iting each other to events. In what feels like both an eternity and the blink of an eye, I watch my students go from individuals to a full-fledged language-learning community.

My favorite part of being a teacher is watching how French changes them. In my classroom, my students change from learners to speakers of French, but they also do so much more. French becomes a part of them. They start to listen to francophone music; they watch francophone movies; they read francophone literature. Inside and outside of class, they become inquisitive about francophone history, food, clothing, and even politics. I watch them become intercultural learners who push the boundaries of their curiosity and confront unfair stereotypes. In my classroom, they learn to see the world not just from their perspective, but through a Francophone’s eyes as well.

I love watching French become part of them, but what I love even more is seeing the changes that perhaps they did not anticipate when they began learning this language. When you learn a language, you learn so much more than just how to speak or write it. You also learn a great deal of patience, humility, perseverance, and good humor. I see patience when my students help each other understand new concepts. I see humility when they ask for help. I see perseverance when tired eyes and slumped shoulders greet me when midterm season hits, and yet I watch them show up every day and still give me their best. I see good humor when they learn to laugh; they laugh at themselves when they make a silly mistake, knowing their mistakes do not define them; they laugh with me when I make mistakes and show them even educators aren’t perfect; they laugh with each other at French when it is exceptionally confusing or tricky. They learn so much, but the most important thing they learn is how to believe in themselves. Today, on this last day of class, I invite them to remember all that has happened. I invite them to remember how they worked hard and overcame challenges to learn French. Smiling eyes at the end of the semester show me that they see it, they recognize it, they know it: they can do hard things. I am so proud of them.

“Vous devenez responsable pour toujours de ce que vous avez apprivoisé.” I say it one more time, for emphasis. “That means,” I continue, “that when you leave this classroom, the friendships you made here don’t have to end. You will always have a part of each other; you will always have this shared experience. And regardless of what you do next, you will always have French. What you have spent time on and what you have learned to care about will always be a part of you.”

Every semester, I say this partially for their benefit, because I know some of them struggle knowing this community we have built is about to split apart. To be honest, though, I really say it for my benefit, because in truth, I cannot watch a community form without somehow becoming a part of it. I care about them just as much as they care about each other.

It never gets easier, knowing that the faces I see every day will disappear all too soon and move on to the next wonderful thing. Sometimes I wonder if it is worth caring so deeply, but then I remember their eager faces, hands raised, questions burning, laughter echoing, and eyes wide with the same wonder I see in the Little Prince, and then I remember why I come back each semester, even when it is so hard to say goodbye at the end. I come back because I think that there is something beautiful about goodbyes. The Little Prince said goodbye to the rose he loved so much, and in saying goodbye, he learned what loving his rose truly meant. Some journeys must be taken without roses, but that does not make the rose, or the loving of the rose, any less special.

Apprivoiser. That is my favorite word in French. It is always translated into English as “to tame,” but I know it means so much more. Saint-Exupery defines it as “creating connections.” I think it can also mean “to care about.” You can tame a fox. You cannot tame a rose. You can only love a rose. And you can love a class. And even when they leave, you can still care about them, and you always will.

I’ve spoken French a long time—and I’m grateful that I do. I’m grateful because it led me to them: the ones who take on the challenge of a second language; the ones who laugh through the road bumps; the ones who never give up, even when the semester gets tough. I am lucky to watch them make French a part of them and develop the confidence to continue learning it. I am also lucky enough that they have changed me, making me not just a speaker of French, but a teacher of it too— a teacher who will forever carry in her heart the names and faces of the dozens of students she loved with all her heart, because, as Saint-Exupéry said, you are responsible, forever, for that which you care about.