Is studying abroad in a new language hard… on connection?
Bonjour! I am currently writing this article from the Bibliothèque Nationale de France—a library so grand that I stood in a museum-like queue to enter. Like much of the city, it is visually striking and packed with things to do: cafés, exhibits, cozy places to relax, and more. But today, I feel a quiet ache when I think of the stunning, yet familiar, architecture of the Michigan Law Quad or the joy of melting into a crowd of voices at a Michigan football game.
The ease of speaking English at school and knowing exactly where I fit.
While being abroad in France has been a complete rêve (dream, en français!) to reality moment for me, it’s not always easy being in an environment where I have to speak French all the time. Even though I’ve spent significant time learning it, I’m reminded that I’m not from here every time I open my mouth and am asked, “Vous-venez d’où (where are you from)?”
As a girl who defines herself through her expression, with the way she articulates her ideas in writing or word, and prizes her ability to connect—this is no small aspect of my study abroad experience. For the first time in my life, I can’t blindly trust my mouth when it opens: grammar fault here, accent too strong there. Even more so, I’ve found out firsthand how difficult it can be to connect with people when forced to use a completely new set of vocabulary.
The more journal entries I write on this topic, the more I’ve come to realize it’s because of my own obsession with perfection.
Being in Paris, I’ve noticed how hypersensitive I am to the fact that I stand out here. Even with my long trench coat and my newly cut bangs, my otherness hits me in waves of embarrassment every time I conjugate a word wrong.
I sometimes feel afraid to make phone calls in French, to enter local-seeming cafes, or even to talk to boys that approach me at bars for fear of seeming stupid. As if my intelligence, my worth, is based solely on my ability to perfectly communicate. I try to tell myself that it’s not true, but it feels that way sometimes.
This very thought has revealed a lot about my own inner dialogue. Rather than seeing myself as a curious young woman interested in learning about a new language and culture (and succeeding in doing so!) I sometimes label myself as an incompetent American who is taking up everyone’s time as I search for a word or ask for someone to repeat themselves when I didn’t understand the first time.
This type of thought pattern is not only internally toxic, but can manifest itself in how relationships are formed. My discomfort in these situations stems directly from my own fear of vulnerability—the foundation of close connection. Luckily, I’ve learned that there’s always a way forward.
In my linguistics class this semester, I’ve learned about langage, or language, the innate capacity of all humans to communicate with one another using signs or symbols. Every day in France, I’m shown the creative ways I can express myself, as well as the amazing things humans can do to listen.
In those moments where I step out of my comfort zone and into my own vulnerability, I’ve been greatly rewarded by the kindness of the French people.
I’ve met chefs and hairstylists who begin conversations with me because they too speak French as a second language, students who develop my ideas when we present them to the professor, new friends who tell me they love my accent, and dates that remind me of my dual-strength of being a good listener.
Most of all, though, I have learned that human relationships are not based on emotional, language, or cultural fluency—they are about your heart in its expression. I’m not given permission to open my mouth when I can speak all of the words flawlessly, I’m given the opportunity to do so because I’m a human who is brave enough to take a bid on connection.
As I move through my last half of my study abroad, I aim to be braver, more vulnerable, and a little more accepting of my less-than-perfect moments. Here I am, in a rare opportunity to hear my voice in another language, and to hear the voices of others in return. Who can say what beauty may come if I dare to open up and speak my heart?
Whether you’re speaking a new language, or expressing words in your mother tongue that bring out your own vulnerabilities, I hope you remember that you are not only allowed to take up space, but that you were born to do so. Be courageous today, and you may find yourself with connections that last a lifetime.
With all of the love from Paris,
Elizabeth <3
