The Cathédral Saint-Pierre et Saint-Paul in the center of Nantes. (Brandon Fey/The Gettysburgian)
By Brandon Fey, Staff Writer
As I walk from the abroad center each day to the bus stop for an 8 p.m. dinner with my host, I pass by a familiar name: Rue Franklin (Franklin Street), named after the polymath and founding father Benjamin Franklin. Franklin is one of the most iconic figures from my home city of Philadelphia, and I have found that he retains an enduring legacy in both the United States and France.
In early December 1776, Franklin passed through the city of Nantes, where I am currently studying abroad, while on his way to Paris after having landed in France. He had been sent by the Second Continental Congress to petition France for military assistance and diplomatic recognition of the colonies during the American War of Independence. Franklin’s tact for diplomacy secured a French alliance that was essential to the victory against Great Britain. He later became the first U.S. ambassador to France, and did considerable work negotiating loans, maritime law, and forging the historic Franco-American alliance.
250 years later, I am symbolically continuing Franklin’s work during my semester abroad as a Gilman Scholar with the U.S. Department of State. With this status, I am tasked to use my study abroad experience to represent the United States abroad (including promoting the semiquincentennial anniversary of independence in July), and completing a follow-on project upon my return.
In the spirit of the approaching milestone of the United States, I have used Franklin’s diplomatic voyage for inspiration as to how I can best complete these tasks while making the most of my semester.
Like Franklin, I have arrived in France with an elementary competence in the French language—far from fluency. This has been increasingly apparent, as I have been “discovered” as a native anglophone several times by locals who have noticed my poor pronunciation and have tried to speak to me instead in English. I found this to be very frustrating, as I had initially come to Nantes with the intention of improving my French and trying to “blend in” with the local culture. However, my fear of making a mistake was causing me to limit my interactions and avoid complex conversations.
Franklin was known for his thick English accent while speaking French, and is said to have made several gaffes while speaking in public. Aware of this, he sought to use his errors to his advantage by embracing his role as an American traveler. He famously wore his frontiersman fur cap to official functions, and spoke confidently despite his linguistic faults. This approach made his errors appear more endearing than embarrassing, and gave him an exotic appeal.
Having reflected on this, I realized that I cannot represent the U.S. if I insist on “blending in” with the locals and become agitated when I fail to do so. I have found that when I am confident and direct in spite of my errors, many locals have been happy to speak with me in French, and several have demonstrated an interest in the United States. These interactions have been much more dynamic, and have done far more to improve my learning.
In addition to his official correspondence, Franklin was able to garner public support for his cause by frequenting salons and scientific meetings, making allies across society. I have sought to do likewise by engaging with the history community at Nantes Université, and by signing up to help teach English and American history at a local high school. Both have given me the opportunity to highlight America’s 250th, and the contributions of figures like Franklin and Lafayette in making it possible.
Franklin’s example has encouraged me to fully embrace my abroad experience by pursuing my goals without limiting myself with fear of inevitable language errors. After all, he himself put it best: “well done is better than well said.”
This article originally appeared on page 7 of the February 2026 edition of The Gettysburgian magazine.
