The adventures of an American lover of all things French...
Saturday, January 7, 2017
(photo taken by C. Bland)
2017 has barely begun and we have our first snow “storm.” Well, okay, it is a blizzard for us here in the piedmont section of North Carolina. The photo my sister-in-law sent is from the mountains where she lives. I took a photo of her vélo at Thanksgiving and gave it to her in the form of a notecard for Christmas.
She returned the favor this morning via Facebook. It looks beautiful in the snow. Or sous la neige, as the French say. Under the snow.
It’s the perfect day to stay in the house. Read, straighten out and put away my messy Christmas wrappings, make a stack of the things I need to pack for my upcoming trip to Paris, charge camera batteries, make note of addresses for postcards, update birthdays in my calendar, and make gingerbread.
While doing some of that straightening, I came across some thank you notes written to me by students just before the winter break. One of the math teachers at my school gives his students a point of extra credit if they write a note to one of their teachers. (I am tearing up again just looking at them…) They will be added to my Gratitude bulletin board when on Monday (IF we have school). These notes are the reason I teach, why I am sure that I am doing exactly what I was meant to do with my life. Sure, I teach French verb conjugations, try to brainwash middle schoolers into thinking that studying French is the most amazing part of their day, but that isn’t my most important job.
I am very hesitant to post these notes. It sounds as if I am trying to hold myself up above others and say “Look at me- I am such an amazing teacher.” Oh no. I have so many self-doubts. Am I teaching them what they need to know before they move on to French 3 and high school? My lesson plans are not that exciting. Why don’t I spend more time on them? (Because I do need to sleep at least 6 hours every night?) Am I up-to-date on the latest research in language acquisition? No. I don’t even have a master’s degree. I met with our head of school a few weeks ago and he was kind of surprised when I admitted that. I wish that I had done it right after I graduated, but then again, maybe I would have never found Durham Academy. Am I just too old? Have I become too old to know what adolescents are facing? Am I too old-school? Do my younger colleagues look up to me or think that I should retire soon? I am an expert at French 1, 2 and 3. Teach AP? Not on your life. Am I fluent? Yes, but I don’t know everything/enough. I have nightmares where I cannot speak a word of French or every time I say a word with an “r” in it, I cannot for the life of me make the French “r.” And everyone laughs. I know that I am lucky- I teach in an independent school with motivated kids. I can only hope that I do indeed make a difference in their lives.
But enough of my (abundant) insecurities. The reason I was inspired to write this post is because I saw an article this morning written by a math teacher entitled “What even IS good teaching?” I understood completely what the author was trying to say. Thank you, Crazy Math Teacher Lady. You ARE really really awesome. I get it.
Here are some excerpts, unedited. They are, after all, middle schoolers and not 100% perfect…
“This year has really been fun. Having you since 7th grade has been awesome. I have learned so much about French and life. You make learning French super fun.”
Merci, but I KNOW for a fact that it is not always super fun. But thank you for sitting in the front row and making me want to be a better teacher. And for staying awake first thing in the morning even when I know you are exhausted (because I kept you out late at a performance of An American in Paris at the DPAC).
“We had the opportunity to write letters to different teachers in math. You came right to my mind. You are truly an influence and role model to me. You love your students so much and it encourages me to work harder and do my best in your class. Your honestly like a mom to LW and me and I am so greatful for that. I know that if I am having a bad day or just need to talk you will actually listen.”
Oui, I do love you. That’s why I was Mme Grincheuse the other day when you and some of your pals decided to hang out after school, but no one knew you were there. I am your mom while you are at school. I take your well-being very seriously.
“Thank you for teaching me French this year!! Although, there have been slight hiccups along the way, this year has been very fun. I may be riding on the B train right now I think that something has clicked and I am understanding the language more than ever. I look forward to the France trip!” P.S. le beurre de cacahuète
The B train has good, comfortable seats, too. Keep eating peanut butter and making me laugh out loud!
“I hope that you have an amazing holiday! This is the time of year when you look back at what you are thankful for and appreciate. I appreciate you as a teacher. Your rigorous class always keeps me motivated and you always make me smile. For the year and a half I have been in your class, you have taught me to how to be a mindful student.”
You are all a teacher could hope for in a student. I have a feeling that you have always been mindful! Your smile and quiet presence in my class are a gift. I should be thanking you for making me look good.
“I have learned an unbeliveable amount of French in just a year and a half. You always seem to care about your students and I will definitely remember you as a great teacher.”
And I will always remember you and how hard you have worked in my class. It hasn’t always been easy and I know that you have shed more than a few tears of frustration. But you have stuck with it and now you are reaping the rewards.
“Thank you. Thank you for all you have done. While I may not be the best student in French, you have always made me feel important in the class. You make everyone feel welcomed. In 6th grade, I was new. I had French class B period so it was one of the first things I experienced at DA. In that class I never felt new. I can’t imagine middle school without you teaching me.”
Well, thank YOU for making everyone in your class feel important. I have noticed that you work with classmates who don’t have a partner. I saw you walking around with new students at recess the first week of school. You didn’t do it so that I would notice and praise you. You did it because you sincerely wanted to. Your beautiful smile is a daily gift to all.
“I wanted to thank you for the wonderful time I have had in your class. You have made French class so much fun for me, in a way that inspires me to love learning. I love how your class is so interactive and hands-on, and I never expected to have this much fun in a class, and I look forward to class every day. You are a great teacher who knows when to be serious and when to be fun. To be able to not only teach a language but to teach kids to love learning is a special quality.”
I am so glad you decided to come to my school this year. We are the lucky ones. You make me laugh every single day. And, although you are a very serious student and a worrier of the first order, you are able to laugh at yourself.
“Bonjour!! Merry Christmas. Thank you for being the best French teacher ever. You have made — and I not only better at French but just at being better people.”
Oh, how I will miss you and your smiling face at the end of this year. French isn’t easy for you, but you come to class with a huge smile on your face every single day. You are amazing. Never, ever forget that.
So, how about one more beautiful mountain photo of snow. And a biscuit recipe. Everyone loves biscuits, right?
Sift together flour, baking soda, sat and sugar in a large bowl. (I use a whisk and skip the sifting.) Cut butter into pats and add to flour. You can use a food processor and pulse 5-6 times or use a pastry cutter or even a fork. (I have a pastry cutter and do it that way.) Mixture should resemble rough crumbs. If using a food processor, return dough to bowl. Add milk and stir with a fork until it forms a rough ball.
Turn dough onto a well-floured surface and pat it down into a rough triangle, about an inch thick. Fold it over gently and pat it down again. Cover dough loosely with a kitchen towel and allow it to rest for 30 minutes.
Preheat oven to 425˚F. Gently pat out the dough some more so that it makes a (roughly) 10 x 6 rectangle. (You can keep it thicker if you want bigger, but fewer biscuits.) Cut biscuits using a floured glass or biscuit cutter. Do not twist the cutter when cutting- it crimps the edges and your biscuits will not rise as high. (I cut mine into squares, using a sharp floured knife. I do not have to work the dough again, which can lead to a tougher biscuit.)
Place biscuits onto a cookie sheet (I line mine with parchment paper) and bake until golden brown, 10-15 minutes.
Serve hot with butter, honey, jam, or whatever your little heart desires.
Bon appétit! Stay warm!
“Whatever you are, be a good one.” –Abraham Lincoln