Cheers to the French Teachers!

I've been lavishly blessed in many ways, but particularly in having had amazing teachers. Hightstown High School may not be officially ranked as one of the all-time best high schools in the country, but I will never feel anything other than lucky to have gone there. Some classes - such as freshman humanities and journalism - shaped my view of the world in profound ways. Some - such as art history - opened new doors to life-long passions. And then some - like French II, III, IV, and AP - have proven to be absurdly useful.

As a pre-teen obsessed with Jacqueline Kennedy, I didn't give much thought to learning any language other than French. I knew that one day I would want to go to France and I would want to speak the language. I had some understanding that Spanish would have been a far more practical option, but my desire to travel to France  was so strong that I never looked back. When I zoned out during French class (frequently) I would gaze at posters of the chateaux of the Loire Valley and Parisian cafes, dreaming of the day I would see them in person. During those early years of study, French became a symbol to me for all that is beautiful, graceful, elegant, and refined - more of an ideal rather than a living language.

My love for the language did not translate into good French study habits, and I know that having me as a French student was not an easy task for Mme. Greenfeldt and Mme Noaman. But thanks to their dedication and requirement that I do the work they put in front of me, I learned enough French to be able to navigate French-speaking countries like France and Morocco with confidence. I can order meals, understand signs, and negotiate in markets for competitive prices on handmade Moroccan slippers and my best friend's hand in marriage. And it's a lot of fun.

So to all of my French teachers, whereever you are, please know that I am thinking of you and all your hard work. I hope the happiness that French language brings me comes back to you 100-fold.