Pardon My French
I'm learning French. No wait, let me be more accurate - I'm taking a French class.
I don't know if it's me or French but I feel like I know less French with each passing class. Of course, I'm not really doing much in the way of homework - having no actual desire to learn French - but I do pay close attention for a solid two hours once per week in hopes of retaining a verb or two.
Maybe even a verb conjugation or two.
And yet, with each class I feel like I know less French than I did the week before. As if French is expanding during the week while my brain contracts. Some sort of inverse natural causes effect.
My ex father-in-law had an explanation for why French is so difficult to learn. He'd say, "The problem with French is, there's a different word for everything."
It's true. But I also feel like I'm giving in to some sort of pointless political affectation by even TRYNG to learn French. I know that's not a very good attitude, but still - I was never comfortable calling my co-workers "brother" and "sister" at our monthly unit meetings when I worked for the NDP at Queen's Park, either. And I couldn't possibly bring myself to wear red on Fridays to show my support for the New Conservative Government of Canada - troops or no troops.
Still, I live in Ottawa and my current job isn't really very stable (my boss is 106) so I figure I'd better bite the bullet and learn French so I can jam my foot into that civil service door one day - if times get THAT rough - and the soup kitchens run out of soup. And even if they don't - I live in Ottawa and my chances of being hired even in a laundromat would be better if I spoke French. And English, too, I guess. Although, sometimes I wonder (Oops, that was my ol' Scottish Gram talking - nevermind her - crazy bigot).
But back to learning French to please our Government. It's just that, I know people in the Government who have taken years of French lessons, passed their B levels, or C levels (there doesn't ever seem to be an A level that anyone is worried about - maybe there isn't an A level) and go on to never speak a word of French in their jobs - EVER! Jobs that supposedly required that they receive hundreds of thousands (millions?) of dollars in French language training in order for them to be able to do them. Sometimes even - keep them.
Even when I lived in Toronto (the Provincial - NOT Federal - Capital of Canada, for all my International Readers) and worked as a secretarial temp following completion of an Honours B.A. in History and English from the University of Toronto (I'm a tail-end boomer...) all the receptionist/secretary/clerk jobs in the provincial civil service seemed to be designated bilingual.
Why, I don't know. I don't even know if it was that rigid a requirement. It was certainly offputting to anyone who didn't have French - even if she did have an Honours B.A. in History and English from the University of Toronto. (Grr. I have simply GOT to put that damned degree out of my mind. It never did me one bit of good - financially - except to keep me from doing jobs I may have wanted to do - bricklayer comes to mind - because I didn't have the correct training. Instead I have this pointy ridiculous degree - I'm a Specialist in Tudor England, doncha know - but no skills!)
Yes. So, French. I've got a good teacher, at least. The class is fun - if a bit intimidating. It includes two Professors - one from each of the local Universities, several recent University graduates, a few Consultant-types. We're none of us beginners but none of us advanced - and that's a wide range, believe me. I'm somewhere in the middle of that. Average in the middle of a huge and complex language expanding beyond the universe while my brain grows ever inward. But I'm there because I can read French well and with a decent accent. My vocabulary, though, is almost exclusively English. And I'm working with a terrible handicap - my Mother. Because ever since I was a kid trying to learn French she'd say, "The key to learning French is to not translate from English."
Of course she didn't know French, herself. It was just another one of those all-knowing out-of-the-blue things she'd pile on my deflated soul to ensure it would always stay flat.
Anyway, I'm going to give it a whirl. What choice do I have? I live in Ottawa, we've got the Government I'd hoped would say, "French? We don't need no stinkin' French!" And it hasn't. So I've already decided that I'll take the course again. And again. Even again. Between courses, I plan to watch at least one hour of French tv/day - which is one hour more than I watch of English tv/day, at least. And read some French books. Some being more than the one English book I seem to be able to manage these days, too.
I dunno. Is it possible I just don't have enough brain cells/life span left to learn French? As my ex father-in-law would say, "Well, *anything* is possible. Just not learning French."
