Exercise and the Language of Love

            In the first quarter of my sophomore year I took a Turbo Kick fitness class. After the quarter ended I asked the instructor for some exercises to do for the following quarter, since I wouldn’t be taking another fitness class at that time. As a beginner working with weights, I started with three pounds. Throughout the few months, three pounds got too easy. As I tried to move up to five-pound weights, it was too hard. I was stuck in the middle.

            Over the past three weeks that’s how I’ve come to feel about my French class. Intermediate classes are too easy; advanced classes are too hard. The tough part is realizing which place I should really be. Do you push yourself to compensate for the gap in comprehension, or do you belittle your knowledge and take it easy and coast?

            I believe that several optimists would argue that it’s more important for the experience and the development in language to shoot high and take everything you can out of it.  I can’t say I disagree with them. For now, even though it’s not the easiest class, it’s hard to say that any bad will come out of it unless my GPA takes a turn for the worse. If that’s the case then I have a decision to make: try another advanced French class, or step down and complete my French minor with an intermediate level course. I don’t think it’s a decision I can make until I’m further progressed into the quarter, but it’s definitely something to be thinking about over the next few weeks.

            Although it seems to be a situation that can only be evaluated in hindsight, I can only trust that my time in this class is only beneficial to my French proficiency and I’ve gotta give it what I can until the quarter is through. If worse comes to worst – it’s just one class of many in my college career.

One, Two, Skip a Few, Welcome to Advanced French!

           Today, we are told by teachers, employers, people who have done it in the past, or pretty much just anybody that studying abroad or visiting a different country is one of the most fulfilling experiences to get out of life. I think it’s safe to say that everyone who has ever gone to a different country (at least one that speaks a native language other than English) can say that they’ve experienced culture shock. What about those of us that have experienced culture shock in our own countries?

            What do I mean by that? I’ve been taking French classes since I was in the sixth grade – basically the first time they ever told us we needed to take a language. I’ve had an interest in the French language since I saw a photo of the Eiffel Tower. I decided to continue taking French classes to fulfill my RIT liberal arts minor, and after a series of hectic and confusing events I was kicked out of my Intermediate French II class and placed into the Advanced French III class, or the highest class that the Institute offers.

            I dreaded my first class, spending the entire 110 minutes stiffly pinned back on my chair, fumbling with my fingers out of nerves – needless to say, my posture had never been better.  

            At the end of the class, I had every possible worry going through my head – from stressing about the grade I could get in the class to wondering if I could remember even the simplest of words in the French language.

            After class I spoke to the teacher and explained to her my fears and she told me that I must not worry about translating every single word. She told me to focus on understanding the majority of the content and I would get through the class just fine.

            I decided to take this as an opportunity to really extend my knowledge of French and take an interest in the differences of French and American culture. For the remainder of the next ten weeks, I look forward to evaluating my progress and my gradual comfort in the class, hoping to get used to a different culture in one classroom.