Being the 'Other'

I grew up never knowing what it felt like to be "other." I am white and have lived in predominantly white areas and have attended predominantly white schools, even through college. I played sports and was considered popular in high school. I'd worked at a special-needs summer camp and an inner-city activity center where I was the "different" one, but I have come to see that as a shallow, false sense of "otherness."

I graduated from college in May 2005. I am certified to teach middle school English and history. My girlfriend teaches French, and she convinced me to apply with her to teach English in France for a year. I applied and -- even though I knew almost zero French -- was accepted.

I now am living in France, working as an English assistant for schools. I teach the equivalent of 8th-graders to 12th-graders. Here, I think I have found my deepest understanding of being the "other."

I know what it feels like to be nervous every time I walk out the door because I don't know what I will encounter. If someone approaches me, I get anxious because I have no idea what he or she might ask me -- and, chances are, I will not understand. I know what it feels like to be in a roomful of people and not have any idea what is being said. I know what it feels like to live in a place that has different customs and holidays than my own.

I thought I had prepared myself for how difficult it might be, but just when I feel like I am making progress in understanding French, I go to the grocery store and someone asks me a question and I have no idea what was said.

But even this experience is different from the American immigrant experience. I made the choice to be here, as an adult. I am white, so while I may not be able to speak French, I do not visually stand out as being different. I have a French-speaking guide, in my girlfriend, who helps me navigate this foreign place. And I know I will go home after a one-year commitment to see the people I left behind. Immigrant students are not leaving "home" for only a limited amount of time; they may be leaving for the rest of their lives.

A professor of mine once said, "Kids don't care how much you know until they know how much you care." My experiences living here in France have taught me some of what it feels like to be "other," but it doesn't end there. My job is to use my experiences to help all of my future students feel cared for and comfortable even when they are in a place where everything seems so foreign.