It was the kids’ last day of French school and I can’t believe they’ve done it.
I can’t tell you how much I worried over the move here; bilingual school v. national school, if the kids would be miserable, that the French schools would be too strict and squelch all the happiness and imagination out of my happy, free children.
As usual, it turns out that my fears were groundless.The more I do in life the more I find this to be the case.
We chose a French public school rather than bilingual on the advice of many and it turned out to be the best decision we’ve made.Our school is warm and friendly and I’ve been impressed with the teachers’ ability to help my kids integrate and feel welcome regardless of language.The Middlest’s teacher spoke not a word of English, yet we stumbled through together and she accepted him with bisous and patience.
There were swimming lessons at an indoor pool every Friday morning; a bus took children and volunteer parents to our nearby public pool for lessons, teachers in swimsuits, monitoring the class.This is public school, remember.
The school fetes and spectacles were block parties with a show. Even the moustachioed mayor was there.
The kids can write in cursive now and Ma Fille knows her times tables up to 5, en francais. Cinq fois cinq est vingt-cinq. Warm, kind, welcoming AND educational.
And you know about the lunches, right?!
All of this made me feel happy to bursting; proud and overwhelmed with what they’ve accomplished and how brave they’ve been.
As we were driving to school yesterday morning I was telling them so. I was waxing poetic, talking about life and how for me the trick is how you handle fears and insecurities. About how a life well lived is about doing things that are outside your comfort zone, being open to the new and unknown, and realizing that nothing is as scary as it seems.
Apparently, all my kids heard was this, ‘blah, blah, blah, blabbedy blah’ because when I finished my soliloquy and asked for their opinions, Ma Fille replied, ‘whatever'.
Whatever. So what. French school, French language, French fries. It’s all the same to me.