5/13/09

3.97

Our post sippin' photo (we had smoothies again).

Say "bonjour" to Aubin.

Today was another goodbye-- my final language date with Aubin.

We chatted about our upcoming exams, torture as an inefficient means to an end, and why the French think Americans only eat copious amounts of greasy "MacDo". We exchanged bisous and email addresses as we said goodbye, and we plan to keep in touch. As I was walking away from the cafe, I felt as if I should have met Aubin along the way, not at the end of everything.

I took three tests today, two of which were steps from impossible. The third was MI:4.

Natalie handed back our theatre exams in class. I got a 12.5/20. This, in American averaging, would be a D-.

I am not a D- student. I am not even a D+ or a C or a B student. I am Katie Gant and I have A written all over me. Or, at least I thought I did until freshman year of college. That year, my transcript was forever smeered by an honors professor who clearly didn't know that when he gave me my first B, my tiny world temporarily imploded. Tears were not enough for my all-consuming grief. I wrote furious emails to this professor-who-wil-not-be-named that I never sent, lamenting his unfairness and daring to give me, Katie Gant, a B.

Luckily, the French grading system different than the American grading system, and my 12.5 is more like a B+. But, the point to all this babbling in this: I am different now.

I have been thinking about what I have learned and how I have changed since coming to France, and in the way of grades, I think I have undoubtedly changed for the better. That is not to say I won't always try my best, but that is to say that when someone casually says "Don't worry, its just a grade." to reassure me after a tough test or difficult homework assignment, I will actually agree with them instead of nodding my head "yes", but secretly thinking "no, no, no, NO!".

My world is fully intact and I am not in the midst of my own personal Armageddon because I got a 12.5. Maybe, I'm a petit peu plus francais, or maybe, France has taught me that there is a grand difference between earning a grade and living one.

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