THE FRIGHTENING POWER OF THE FOREIGN LANGUAGE ASSISTANT

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“How did you get to France, Emily?” a student asked me one day early in the year.

“I swam,” I replied, clearly joking. “My arms were so tired!”

The child’s mouth dropped to the floor, as did those of several other children. They stared at me in disbelief, wondering why in the world I would do that, and if all Americans were as crazy about swimming as I must be. Realizing that he hadn’t understood that I was kidding, I set him straight, but it got me thinking about my own power and responsibility.

I am an English Language Teaching Assistant, formally. My job is to share my language and culture with young French children. For most of the kids with whom I work, I am the first and only American that they have ever met. Therefore, I represent The American, meaning All Americans, for them. Everything I say, do, and think must be what all Americans say, do, and think. The way I talk, what I wear, my sense of humor, the things I like and dislike, what I eat, the movies I have seen or not seen…

I should also mention how much is working against me. Although I may be the first real, live American with whom these children have ever interacted, I am certainly not their first exposure to all things American (or of Anglo-Saxon culture). They are all familiar with Friends, Pimp My Ride and all else MTV, CSI, Three Doors Down, Katy Perry, Harry Potter…

French children have definite opinions on what they think Americans are like. We are all rich and live lavish lifestyles. We all have big cars and bigger houses. (That would be MTV’s influence.) We eat pizza and hamburgers every day. (Thanks, Pizza Hut and McDonalds, both of which run rampant over here.) There are CIA and FBI agents walking around everywhere with black suits and sunglasses and briefcases filled with complicated technological gadgets to help them solve cases. (Thanks, CSI and Law and Order.) We clearly must see movie stars just hanging out everywhere. And if we don’t come from LA or New York or Miami or Las Vegas, we MUST dream about it, because after all, those are THE places to be in the United States. Sometimes you can also see a parent’s opinions coming out through their child’s words. I have heard small children say things about hearing that Americans are stupid, crazily religious, war-mongers, and racist.

At this point, I usually turn it around on them. I love seeing their faces and hearing their protests when I say something about how all French people wear berets and walk around all the time with a baguette, a wheel of cheese, and a bottle of wine. I then say something ridiculous like, all French people hate mustard. Inevitably, certain children will raise their hands and cry out in protest about how they are French and they happen to LOVE mustard. I then point out how dangerous it is to make too many generalizations about any one group of people. This tends to be fairly effective.

Nevertheless, I realize that I am representing my country with my every word and action. It is one hell of a responsibility.

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Comments

[David]

kids... eh
My poor students...