Do I speak French?Really, do I?
Of course not.
But I didn't let that stop me from submitting my application to be a French tutor. Shouldn't my enthusiasm for the language of love make up for it?
We have a pupil who needs home-bound instruction, you see, and our principal is desperate to find one of us teachers who's willing to make house calls.
I did this before a few years ago to pick up a little extra cash, only that time the subject was American History. They make exceptions for certifications when the situation is unique. So I'm keeping my fingers crossed that such will be the case this time.
So how did I sell myself as an appropriate candidate for the position when the only sentences I can speak in French are silly things like "C'est une horloge" (which means, "That is a clock") and "Cette voiture est Japonaise" (which means, "That car is Japanese")?
Well, I chose my English words very carefully. :-)
I was honest, of course, yet I encircled my potential with pretty filigree. I've been to France, I explained, and I plan to go back. I've had a romance with the language for years, and my "Conversational French Made Easy" CASSETTE TAPES are proof that I first became enamored with the language back in the early '90s.
A friend of mine lives in France, and I've got another who lives here but speaks it fluently. I've got a dozen books on the language, ranging from workbooks to picture dictionaries. I even indulged a few years ago and bought a snazzy, high-gloss pop-up map (complete with a travel pen and little compass!) of my beloved downtown Paris, hoping that it'd get multiple uses over the course of my lifetime. I even keep a few French coins in my piggy bank, figuring I'd cash them in for something better once the American economy hits rock bottom.
Souhaitez-moi la chance!
