I would like to take a moment to write about the marrow of my trip – studying in France.
My school has antique buildings that were built in the 1840s. Some are even older, and what truly fascinates me the most are the window styles; I do not have a special interest in architecture at all, but there is something gorgeous about these windows that inspires me. They are beautiful and well curved out. When I am having my brief breaks between my classes, I make sure I glance at the windows to remind me of the beauty of my school. But what happens when I am not looking at the windows when I am actually in class? 
There is newness that greets me each time I sit in my french classes. There are a few features that are obviously contributing to this feeling. For instance, I have never had back-to-back French classes running from 9 am till about 4.30 pm daily and I did not know the other 15 students who were assigned to this particular class. These are new experiences, but they are not necessarily “French” in any way. What hit me as authentically an ingrained feature of the French education system is the general difficulty of the content, so much so that it is considered an impressive score to miss anything above half of the total points. I could tell from the reactions of the other American students in the class that I was not the only one who felt the foreignness of this new adjustment to the grading standards. From this experience, lelearnedthat there is a lot of diversity in the world, even when it comes to certain shared experiences like education.
I have two instructors, both of them are female and they compliment each other on a lot of traits. One of them is the older, I guess in her late forties; she is always smiling and very patient. She tells us a lot about France and the French culture through the lenses of her experiences and those of her family. When the class was taken aback by the low scores after our first oral exam, about 4 out of 8 on average she talked about how her son would be very happy with that performance if it was in his French Baccalaureate syllabus.The other teacher – the younger one in her early thirties, has a youthful vibe she demonstrates when giving edgy examples and illustrations in class. She loves to travel, she has told us, and one ting that has struck me the most about her is that she will ask about our own stories, listen with a golden ear. My french improves when I get the chance to talk about myself; however, there is also a something transformational about this personal exercise. It makes me own my identity and reflect on them a little more.
School in France is different from school in the United States. Here students study on the train ride to school, there is a lot of celebrated renowned figures included in the chapters of our coursework. For the first time, I learnt about Yannick Noah and how he was maximized his “most favorite person” status in France to achieve success that transcends the tennis court. He began singing reggae and set up a flourishing foundation. I have asked myself why I handout heard of Yannick or his work before. Part of the answer, I think, is that the Anglophone and Francophone worlds are divided, and without curiosity to look into the other, tremendous learning opportunities are lost.
Oh, I must mention, I was chosen to be my class captain, responsible for representing the students’s needs/complaints to the school’ administration.