Aurora Charter School had school dances two to three times per year. This is when all us future lady killers would come out, decked in American Eagle jeans, graphic tees, and five sprays too many of Axe, and begin the junior high courtship process. It was a simple process, really--all the boys would stand on one corner, all the girls on the other, and music would play. With no one actually, y'know, dancing. I'm sure the DJ would have rather been working a funeral.
Kesha, Katie Perry, N'Sync would all be bellowing their tunes, the lights would be flashing, and still, no one would be making that $5 admission ticket count.
And then, You're Beautiful by James Blunt would come on.
And that's when us alpha males would pretend like we didn't care (but secretly, this is what we had been training months for), and ask the ladies to allow us to awkwardly move with them in rhythm with the music (that should be the official definition for "dancing") until Blunt's magnificent voice ceased.
Almost like clockwork, once at each of these dances for four years, I would ask the apple of my eye (actually, I'm more of a clementine guy, but you get the point) to engage in the ritual. To her credit, each and every time she obliged. Perhaps she was worried about breaking my heart. Or feared a lawsuit. After all, if Kramer can win a settlement for coffee being too hot, what can't you get money for? But each and every time, she suffered the most awkward four minutes of her semester.
**Side note: later on, a friend told me that, during one such occasion, while we were mid-dance, she was making obvious indications that my body odor was unpleasant. Again, she was a trooper.
I sometimes think back to those junior high days.
Sometimes I wonder whether, if I had kept the unibrow, Hollister would have still hired me and I would have worked two years there.
I also think that those were some great memories. The pregame huddle, in which the boys would counsel each other on how to approach the ladies. Ask her to dance while she's with her friends, she'll have to say 'yes.' The anticipation that comes with asking a girl to dance for the first time. The nervousness that your hand may slip and land you a three day suspension. The relief that said hand stayed right where it was supposed to, leaving a juicy sweat mark to boot. The post game huddle, where our confidence was sky high as we were giving each other high fives (often missing), talking about our next exploits. Next time, when we talk, my sentences will contain TWO clauses instead of one.
Those were some great times. And I will always remember them.
I have many American friends, and at one point I have said the same thing to all of them: "Living next to you guys is f***ng intimidating."
Pierre Trudeau once compared it to sleeping next to an elephant. That may be the perfect way to put it.
In North America (for me at least), we sometimes fall into the trap of thinking that life, school in this case, on our side is the exact same in every developed country. Student clubs, dances, homecoming queen/king, prom…these are staples of school are everywhere, right?
I said au revoir to a class of students today. For our final activity, I printed off an article comparing American high schools to French lycées. I then asked them to tell me what they would change about their school life. I was curious. What they said, essentially, was that they wished their school life was more American.
My impression had been that education was really all that lycées were offering the students. Their views and wishes basically confirmed that notion. Dances, clubs, teams…none of that exists in this system.
From what I could tell, they wanted school to be more than just school. Like it is in North America.
Living in another country certainly puts things in perspective, and makes you appreciate things more. I never expected to be reliving my junior high days as much as I have while over here because, well, I took it for granted that those things were experienced by everyone. They certainly are not.
When I arrived in France, one of the first things the teacher who picked me up from the airport said to me was this (and keep in mind, she's an American, from Texas): In France, the culture is to raise thinkers. In the United States, the culture is to raise the number one draft pick.
But is the intent of raising the number one draft pick such a bad thing?
Without question, from what I have seen of both the Canadian and French education systems, French students think at a higher level than their Canadian counterparts. I am always amazed by how articulate my students are about the complex English topics they are given, even if they miss an 's' or 'ed' here or there.
But at what cost?
The idea that school is more than school is really only prevalent in North America, it seems. We look at school as a lifestyle, other places do not. It's where we learn algebra and balancing chemical equations and how to say I would not like to dance with you en français, but it's so much more than that too. It's about gaining confidence. Learning new skills and sports. Finding our passion. Making friends. Keeping friends.
The French system doesn't subscribe to that line of thinking. It is really only training its students to do one thing: study. Where's the fun in that? Where's the personal growth in that?
We all take certain things for granted, but never did I think I would take those awkward junior high encounters for granted.
It is unfortunate that my students weren't able to experience these things. French or American or Canadian, every school boy deserves to dance with his long time crush. And miss a celebratory high five afterwards.
--Salim Valji
@salimvalji
