Well, dear French student (and francophile,) thank you for quoting this adult educator with a foot in two cultures for the last 30+ years who is still trying to figure things out herself. Yes, recognizing (humbly) you are no expert, just a lifelong student, asking questions, stubbornly, relentlessly is one way to understand our adopted culture of choice and ultimately to feel like we belong. As for naturalization, officials (and rules) do change. Stay hopeful and dig into that famous American optimism. It might very well happen (and without having to perform a Scorpion pose in your 70s! ;-)
This may have been your best entry yet. There have been pieces more entertaining, more emotional, more funny, more informative. This one was the most realistic. A bucket of that cold Brittany rain right in the face.
I was an expat child, born in the US but raised abroad, and when my family came back in time for me to go to high school (why??), I felt exactly like this: "There are experiences you never had, TV shows you never watched, ads you never knew... Everyone around you knows cultural references and quotes them on a regular basis. They can feel like private jokes you aren’t meant to understand.”
It was isolating — in my supposedly home culture. So I am sympathetic. And also, I would love to know about the bootcamp!
What a lovely post! Got me thinking about a few things. It happens here too with gaps in the generations - like trying to explain the Honeymooners to my adult kids. Also made me realize it happens with any skill (like watercolor painting) that you're trying to master. Though feeling that sense of belonging to your new country is obviously more significant than learing a single skill. I'm so glad you got the joke about the downpours in Northwest France. A good first step.
I grew up with a keen awareness of my Irish heritage, and a lesser appreciation of my French (in spite of having to learn French as a child). In Boston I was always surrounded by Irish people--some by heritage, some by birth. I drank at Irish bars and played handball at Boston's L Street Bathhouse with men born in Galway and Clare. So when we moved to Ireland for work I thought the cultural transition would be easy. How wrong I was. I lacked all the things you mention, above all that common experience of growing up and making lifelong friends in the schools and neighbourhoods. I complained after a while to a colleague that I always felt like a stranger; he replied that his family was of Norman heritage and he was still treated "like a blow-in."
In France in the 1970s and 1980s it was a bit the same. In gatherings of friends I missed a lot of jokes, I hadn't read all the authors my literary friends admired, and I couldn't sing along with songs of Boris Vian or those they'd learned to sing in harmony at school. Mentioning my French Canadian heritage only invited comments about Acadiens and Québecoises being descended from "criminals and prostitutes."
So these days living in Nice I'm still something of a square peg in a round hole. But maybe it's because of age or having grown so used to the feeling; it just doesn't bother me anymore.
Although I lived in Paris for less than a year, when I came back to the U.S.A. I discovered that I had lost English idioms and vocabulary. I can remember talking with someone and using the phrase "in the palm of my hand" and then looking at my hand and asking if that was a real phrase. So it goes both ways.
I had a conversation with an American who has lived in Italy for 30 years. I asked her when she got the point of thinking in Italian rather than translating, it took her more than 20 years she said, and only then did she fully felt more Italian than American. I wonder if the culture change ever takes complete hold if you grew up for decades somewhere else. Yet kids adapt so quickly, it’s startling to see that.
I have learned to enjoy and thrive as an outsider ever since my first day in kindergarten where my four years of bucolic farm life were brutally traded for an old brick building with a fenced in blacktop playgroup and a teacher with a bright red dress named Mrs. Harsh.
I left US shores when I was 21 and travelled through Europe and North Africa where I was an outsider, and when I returned a half year later to "home ground," I discovered that I was even more of an outsider. As Thomas Wolfe wrote - You Can't Go Home Again.
And now, I feel like I very much belong here in France as an outsider, where each day holds surprises and learning experiences. Yesterday, for example, spouse Theresa and I were getting our photos taken at the local Intermarché Photomaton machine that is programmed for US Visa and Passport photos. (Not all are.) After deciphering the instructions and getting our "conforming" photos, there was a very elderly lady waiting outside the booth. She started asking me how it worked, and to my surprise, my French was adequate to not only give her the basics, but to walk her through the process to get her Carte Vitale photos and pay for them. She'd never used one before, she said. When I left her standing by the machine with her own "conforming" Carte Vitale photos in hand, she thanked me sincerely with a big smile.
As we walked away, I remarked to Theresa that I had just managed to use my very basic French to assist an elderly French person without needing Theresa's assistance. So maybe I am fitting in. Just a little bit... I'd better be careful, I don't want to lose my outsider status.
Thank you! I found that making myself useful, as the Grandfather used to tell me, took away my self-consciousness with speaking French. This used to happen in Germany, as well. My German was better than most in our office, so I was often asked to translate for my colleagues to do things like get their car fixed, make dinner reservations, settle merchant disputes, etc. It definitely furthered my German skills.
An American friend of mine who lived in France for more than 10 years, speaks fluent French, hired a lawyer so her paperwork would be optimal, still had her request for French citizenship rejected for exactly the reason that Bruno Retailleau "clarified".
I had no idea that there's a US congressman proposing to ban dual citizenship. That's awful! My children and I are firmly implanted in both US & French culture. It would be an extremely difficult decision if we were forced to pick only one.
Thanks for the interesting article! I've lived in France since 1978 & I'm still learning. 🙂
I have read that the dual citizenship think isn't likely to get much traction. The idea is you'd have one year to decide and if you haven't chosen by then, the US will revoke your citizenship. Of course, they'd have to live without your taxes.
This entry is so insightful, oh my gosh, it feels like it touches my heart!
I so much relate to this. I've been living abroad for 25 years, and I still don't get some of the jokes. My native husband is sweet enough to explain these jokes to me, but the humor gets lost in translation. However, it does help me to understand future jokes brushing on the same topic. I find that acquiring a sense of belonging to an adopted culture is much more difficult than mastering the new language, it has so many facets and only TIME can mesh the gap between the 2 sides of my own culture.
One of the biggest concerns I had at the beginning of my journey into a different country and culture was losing my identity. I really felt that all I was back then was diluting into a culture where my previous life experiences were irrelevant and the thought of losing myself terrified me. After a while, I realized that although I was losing my initial identity, meanwhile I was gaining a new one, one of a mutt if I may say that which is what I am to this day. I started to dream in my new language after about 8 years, and I knew then that my brain has finally made the transition and thinks in my second language. Patience pays off, it does get better the more one immerses oneself into a new language and culture. The age plays a role; I was 41 when I moved abroad. The older one is, the longer it takes to transition away from the native language. You're doing so well!
I really get the identity issue. I feel like I don't have the same personality in French as I do in English. I want to say to tell the French people I meet, "I swear I'm funnier and smarter in English!" I have been dreaming in French for a number of years, and there are even times when I can't remember if something I heard or said was in French or English. I will embrace the patience you spoke of!
Hi Friend, I would just like to say that I am a 76 year old yoga teacher and loving every minute of teaching, the learning and growing experiences along the way and the wonderful way sharing yoga makes me (and my clients) feel. I see you there too.
As Americans, we can contact our congressperson to oppose the nutty idea of bannng multi-nationals. As loyal Americans, we also believe in the exercise of our rights, right?
Well, dear French student (and francophile,) thank you for quoting this adult educator with a foot in two cultures for the last 30+ years who is still trying to figure things out herself. Yes, recognizing (humbly) you are no expert, just a lifelong student, asking questions, stubbornly, relentlessly is one way to understand our adopted culture of choice and ultimately to feel like we belong. As for naturalization, officials (and rules) do change. Stay hopeful and dig into that famous American optimism. It might very well happen (and without having to perform a Scorpion pose in your 70s! ;-)
This may have been your best entry yet. There have been pieces more entertaining, more emotional, more funny, more informative. This one was the most realistic. A bucket of that cold Brittany rain right in the face.
Thanks so much Frank.
I was an expat child, born in the US but raised abroad, and when my family came back in time for me to go to high school (why??), I felt exactly like this: "There are experiences you never had, TV shows you never watched, ads you never knew... Everyone around you knows cultural references and quotes them on a regular basis. They can feel like private jokes you aren’t meant to understand.”
It was isolating — in my supposedly home culture. So I am sympathetic. And also, I would love to know about the bootcamp!
Bootcamp is amazing! Check out Vero’s website, linked in the post.
Contact u our congressperson to oppose the nutty ban the multi-citizen idea. Americans vote.
What a lovely post! Got me thinking about a few things. It happens here too with gaps in the generations - like trying to explain the Honeymooners to my adult kids. Also made me realize it happens with any skill (like watercolor painting) that you're trying to master. Though feeling that sense of belonging to your new country is obviously more significant than learing a single skill. I'm so glad you got the joke about the downpours in Northwest France. A good first step.
Hey, this is an amazing a-ha moment for me, to put this in the perspective of learning a new skill. Thanks for that.
I grew up with a keen awareness of my Irish heritage, and a lesser appreciation of my French (in spite of having to learn French as a child). In Boston I was always surrounded by Irish people--some by heritage, some by birth. I drank at Irish bars and played handball at Boston's L Street Bathhouse with men born in Galway and Clare. So when we moved to Ireland for work I thought the cultural transition would be easy. How wrong I was. I lacked all the things you mention, above all that common experience of growing up and making lifelong friends in the schools and neighbourhoods. I complained after a while to a colleague that I always felt like a stranger; he replied that his family was of Norman heritage and he was still treated "like a blow-in."
In France in the 1970s and 1980s it was a bit the same. In gatherings of friends I missed a lot of jokes, I hadn't read all the authors my literary friends admired, and I couldn't sing along with songs of Boris Vian or those they'd learned to sing in harmony at school. Mentioning my French Canadian heritage only invited comments about Acadiens and Québecoises being descended from "criminals and prostitutes."
So these days living in Nice I'm still something of a square peg in a round hole. But maybe it's because of age or having grown so used to the feeling; it just doesn't bother me anymore.
I credit age: the ultimate in offering I-don’t-give-a-damn energy!
Although I lived in Paris for less than a year, when I came back to the U.S.A. I discovered that I had lost English idioms and vocabulary. I can remember talking with someone and using the phrase "in the palm of my hand" and then looking at my hand and asking if that was a real phrase. So it goes both ways.
I had a conversation with an American who has lived in Italy for 30 years. I asked her when she got the point of thinking in Italian rather than translating, it took her more than 20 years she said, and only then did she fully felt more Italian than American. I wonder if the culture change ever takes complete hold if you grew up for decades somewhere else. Yet kids adapt so quickly, it’s startling to see that.
I have learned to enjoy and thrive as an outsider ever since my first day in kindergarten where my four years of bucolic farm life were brutally traded for an old brick building with a fenced in blacktop playgroup and a teacher with a bright red dress named Mrs. Harsh.
I left US shores when I was 21 and travelled through Europe and North Africa where I was an outsider, and when I returned a half year later to "home ground," I discovered that I was even more of an outsider. As Thomas Wolfe wrote - You Can't Go Home Again.
And now, I feel like I very much belong here in France as an outsider, where each day holds surprises and learning experiences. Yesterday, for example, spouse Theresa and I were getting our photos taken at the local Intermarché Photomaton machine that is programmed for US Visa and Passport photos. (Not all are.) After deciphering the instructions and getting our "conforming" photos, there was a very elderly lady waiting outside the booth. She started asking me how it worked, and to my surprise, my French was adequate to not only give her the basics, but to walk her through the process to get her Carte Vitale photos and pay for them. She'd never used one before, she said. When I left her standing by the machine with her own "conforming" Carte Vitale photos in hand, she thanked me sincerely with a big smile.
As we walked away, I remarked to Theresa that I had just managed to use my very basic French to assist an elderly French person without needing Theresa's assistance. So maybe I am fitting in. Just a little bit... I'd better be careful, I don't want to lose my outsider status.
That was a significant moment. Brava!!
Thank you! I found that making myself useful, as the Grandfather used to tell me, took away my self-consciousness with speaking French. This used to happen in Germany, as well. My German was better than most in our office, so I was often asked to translate for my colleagues to do things like get their car fixed, make dinner reservations, settle merchant disputes, etc. It definitely furthered my German skills.
Great insight, Steve.
And a teacher named Mrs. Harsh—Yikes! That sounds positively Dickensian! 😱
An American friend of mine who lived in France for more than 10 years, speaks fluent French, hired a lawyer so her paperwork would be optimal, still had her request for French citizenship rejected for exactly the reason that Bruno Retailleau "clarified".
I had no idea that there's a US congressman proposing to ban dual citizenship. That's awful! My children and I are firmly implanted in both US & French culture. It would be an extremely difficult decision if we were forced to pick only one.
Thanks for the interesting article! I've lived in France since 1978 & I'm still learning. 🙂
I have read that the dual citizenship think isn't likely to get much traction. The idea is you'd have one year to decide and if you haven't chosen by then, the US will revoke your citizenship. Of course, they'd have to live without your taxes.
I loved this -- a balance of realism and optimism and a reminder that anything worth having is worth working for!
That balance, in itself, takes a good bit of work.
This entry is so insightful, oh my gosh, it feels like it touches my heart!
I so much relate to this. I've been living abroad for 25 years, and I still don't get some of the jokes. My native husband is sweet enough to explain these jokes to me, but the humor gets lost in translation. However, it does help me to understand future jokes brushing on the same topic. I find that acquiring a sense of belonging to an adopted culture is much more difficult than mastering the new language, it has so many facets and only TIME can mesh the gap between the 2 sides of my own culture.
One of the biggest concerns I had at the beginning of my journey into a different country and culture was losing my identity. I really felt that all I was back then was diluting into a culture where my previous life experiences were irrelevant and the thought of losing myself terrified me. After a while, I realized that although I was losing my initial identity, meanwhile I was gaining a new one, one of a mutt if I may say that which is what I am to this day. I started to dream in my new language after about 8 years, and I knew then that my brain has finally made the transition and thinks in my second language. Patience pays off, it does get better the more one immerses oneself into a new language and culture. The age plays a role; I was 41 when I moved abroad. The older one is, the longer it takes to transition away from the native language. You're doing so well!
I really get the identity issue. I feel like I don't have the same personality in French as I do in English. I want to say to tell the French people I meet, "I swear I'm funnier and smarter in English!" I have been dreaming in French for a number of years, and there are even times when I can't remember if something I heard or said was in French or English. I will embrace the patience you spoke of!
What a great article Theresa. I must say I can see you teaching Yoga at 70 because in my eyes I can’t see you never teaching Yoga ever again.❤️
I sure hope so!
Terrific post, Theresa! I’m off to check out Vero’s website now…
Hi Friend, I would just like to say that I am a 76 year old yoga teacher and loving every minute of teaching, the learning and growing experiences along the way and the wonderful way sharing yoga makes me (and my clients) feel. I see you there too.
First, I don’t believe you are 76. You look 58. Second, thank you.
As Americans, we can contact our congressperson to oppose the nutty idea of bannng multi-nationals. As loyal Americans, we also believe in the exercise of our rights, right?
I'd never heard of that "clarification " either...