This article originally appeared on pages 16 and 17 of the No. 5 April 2025 edition of The Gettysburgian magazine
By William Oehler, Staff Writer
As I sat down to dinner with my host family on my first night in Nantes, France, my brain was jet-lagged and focused on everything but speaking in a second language. I had waded through a 24-hour travel day and needed food and sleep immediately. But first, I needed to make a good first impression and get to know my new family, and it didn’t go too badly. Within thirty minutes, my head was finally hitting a pillow, ready to begin 24/7 French conversations for the next four months.
Language is such an important part of life. It is how we all communicate. It is our collective connection point that creates the bonds of trust, friendship and love. Communicating in a language secondary to our own places a barrier between who we are and who we want to be. I may know exactly what those around me are saying, but my brain is working at a slower processing speed than my native friends and family, so it’s easier to reserve myself than attempt an addition to conversations.
I found frustration in recognizing that while I knew what those around me were saying, I had to pause and reflect before replying, thereby missing my window of opportunity for further connection. While I have enjoyed my time these past few months, I had to accept comfort in observation and not necessarily participation in congeniality I tend to enjoy. But this acceptance wasn’t me withdrawing into myself; instead, it grew into a shift.
(William Oehler/The Gettysburgian)
I shifted instead to enjoying the many French conversations I have been privy to the last few months. Picking up certain words here and there that I kept hearing come up and my enjoyment of observation
instead expanded my dictionary. There have been times that my internal self has asked me whether or not I want to continue with French. Between learning grammar and pronunciation and figuring out the gender of any home appliance, there have been moments of anger. But patience with anything, especially a new language, is key to learning and improvement.
Speaking any language is a privilege; it opens doors to those around you, letting others in and learning about the world and those in it. Changing languages often means changing location, and thus the people and cultures living their lives. An immersion program like Nantes gives you a sustained, personal relationship with a language and its native speakers. Such an opportunity should be fully taken advantage of; anything less is a disservice to growth and the new surrounding community.
My time in Nantes has been nothing short of transformational. I feel right at home in the Boston-esque city on the north-western coast of France. My friends and I have started conversations with our favorite baristas at our regular café down the street from our university, and I always find time to go exploring in new parts of the city when I don’t have classes. A semester abroad is a gift that presents itself differently to everyone who experiences it. If anything, embrace the challenge of a new language, lean into it, and you may just fall in love with it.
