River Forest, Illinois, November 1975. Here's another snapshot from my stint as a high-school yearbook photographer. The woman on the right is the Dominican sister who taught French. I enrolled in French-language classes after I completed my two years of Latin study. She was an amazing teacher: she never allowed us to speak English in her classroom. I felt nearly fluent in French after I completed the coursework.
This teacher's training was so good that when I enrolled in college, I tested out of the foreign-language requirement and earned the equivalent of four years' credit in French. I was so excited when I learned the news that I called her from my dorm room telephone to thank her.
(Does anyone still install terrazzo floors [distinguishable from "terrazzo tiles"]? The Venetian apartment in which I lived had them, too. I just love them.)
3 comments:
she never allowed us to speak English in her classroom.
I tested out of the foreign-language requirement
That is a superlative teacher.
You were very fortunate.
I also had an advantage: I was bilingual since childhood. And Tatjana's French lessons helped.
Definitely.
Being exposed to people speaking other languages gives you an ear for them those who only hear one language don't seem to have (my situation vs The Blonde's).
The fact Tatja was a cultured woman and had been tutored in French (much like my Dad who read French, Italian, and Spanish newspapers) was also a boost.
Post a Comment