You now understand the basics of how the French school system works. Nice. What about the REAL side of things? The practical elements of experiencing the classroom environment, new teachers, new friends, new social norms and etiquette?

Day 1

We arrived early at my son’s maternelle, met the head teacher and the assistant teacher (luckily, the head teacher speaks some English). She showed us the classroom, explained how to enroll him in lunch and Monday afternoon activities, gave us a list of school regulations and materials, and emphasized that we needed to get him a chausson (slippers) for him to wear at school. On that day, my poor son clung to me and cried desperately as the teachers attempted to pry him off. They succeeded and carried him inside kicking and screaming. It was traumatic, yes, but in the end, it was more traumatic for me and his siblings who watched on wide and teary-eyed. When we picked him up later on, the teachers informed us that his crying lasted for only a few minutes, and he was reasonably happy and scar free. Phew.

From there we hurried to the elementary school, or l‘école, for the older ones. There is a ten minute window in between each school level so parents can make it from one school to the next before the gates are finally closed. We reached the école as the bell rang, made it in, spoke to the headmaster (who also speaks some English), saw the different classes and got the rundown of what to buy, what to bring, what to do, and, perhaps the most important information, what NOT to do. While this was going on, my poor kids were having minor panic attacks.

Finally, we went together to drop off my eldest in her CM1 class (or 4th grade). She walked into the classroom, the teacher (who also speaks some English) introduced her, made everyone greet her (in English), and then told us parents to leave. We did, and later my poor daughter told me she got too overwhelmed and started crying right then and there, which was “totally embarrassing mom!” It broke my heart.

It was then time to take our middle child to his class, CE1, or 1st grade. In this case, his teacher didn’t speak English but said she understood, she introduced him to the class and told the kids to welcome him with a “hello”, sounding more like “Eh-Lo” and he was off. No tears, really, but that’s just his nature.

The universal law of Bureaucracy Sucking:

Next, my husband and I were instructed to go to what seemed like a thousand different government offices to meet countless people and get countless lists of documents and all this bureaucratic pain in the derrière we had to fulfill.

We still haven’t finished all the gazillion different processes, by the way, because there is a word in French that, personally, drives me crazy: Rendez-vous. You can’t do anything with simply a walk in. Every friggin little thing requires first a rendez-vous. In some cases, you need to schedule a rendez-vous only to speak to the person who will finally schedule THE ultimate rendez-vous.

Seriously?!

We have since learned that, usually, we can only solve one problem a day here in France. So yeah, we’re still adjusting.

After running around like rats collecting lists and scheduling the darn rendez-vous we stopped for lunch (because, again, the country stops for lunch). Later, at 4:30, we made our way back to the different schools to gather our children. It was amazing how the reactions were so different.

My youngest, in the maternelle, seemed fine though not excited. My oldest, in 4th grade, was shy and not crying but not too happy either. My middle child was excited with all the possibilities a new environment would bring. In the end, we all survived our first day of school in France.

Oops, BIG mistake

Day 2

The next day was…harder.

For the little one in the maternelle all was fine. No crying or clinging. However, at l‘école my daughter was suddenly told that they had placed her in the wrong grade and that, by age ten, she should be in CM2 (or 5th grade). She was petrified.

The poor thing had to go through everything again: introduction in front of the class, feeling like the new kid, adapting to a long day in yet another new classroom, tears rolling in the process etc etc. I wasn’t happy about it and asked if we could keep her in the other class (especially since that’s where she’s at in the US) but I learned that there is no messing around with French rules. You have to be in CM2 if you are ten years old, and unless they have proof that you were held back, that’s where you’re going to be whether you want to or not. Ironically, my son, who should be in CE2, (or 2nd grade) was kept in CE1.

Whatever.

For us, this is a temporary move, short-lived, and the goal is for them to gain what they can in terms of language and cultural experience.

Back to day 2: it sucked for both kids in elementary school. My happy and excited middle child soon realized that the other kids don’t speak English at all and, being the VERY talkative fellow that he is, not verbally communicating was incredibly frustrating. However, as the French say, ça viendra. It will come.

I believe they’re right.

Other interesting elements of French School:

As we shopped for their school supplies I was tickled by how different the French system is when compared to the Americans and Brazilians.

First, notebooks are all quadrangulated, and the regular lined notebooks are hard to find. Oh, and they LOVE their cahiers. Children have dozens of different notebooks and not a lot of folders (one teacher told me they’re keeping it simple for the environment, she only asked for recycled notebooks). Worksheets and messages are all cropped and glued inside the different cahiers. They do use binders, but not as much (at least in elementary school).

Have you ever shopped for writing supplies in France??

Well, it is freakin daunting. Hilarious! I walked around like a lost fool trying to understand the different types of pens and markers and erasers for friggin pens. Ultimately, they don’t use pencils but rely on erasable pens (yeah) AND you MUST buy at least 1 roller pen (with its eraser) and 1 fountain pen.

OH MON DIEU the infinite number of options for fountain pens, from cheap 6 dollar ones to crazy 200 dollar options, from specific ones for calligraphy training to your normal everyday writing tool…unbelievable.

So, I finally figured it out and got them their fountain pens with their refills AND erasers, the darn roller pens with refills AND erasers, and a huge paraphernalia of compass, half circle ruler, and gadgets that I’ve only seen in high school. But oh how my kids LOVED filling up their pencil cases with all this stuff.

As for teaching style, I’ve noticed that teachers don’t praise their students as much, and they aren’t afraid of disciplining them (I’ve walked in and seen kids facing the wall in time out). Worksheets and tests are filled with red sad faces and comments on their mistakes, as well as the occasional smiley face for a job well done.

In the US and in Brazil there is, in my opinion, an exaggerated focus on praising children for every little accomplishment. I’ve naturally tried not to sing their praises too much, especially when it comes to chores and tasks that they SHOULD be doing. I’ve noticed this is the French way:

Praise is given honestly and rarely, thus making it the more special. Not every criticism is constructive, and teachers are often stern and make upset, yet funny, faces with grimaces and scowls.

My eldest, ever the sensible one, felt bad for the first two weeks, but has since learned not to take any of it personally.

If nothing else, acquiring this skill, in her case, is amazing and I am eternally grateful for that.

As for parenting, from what I’ve seen and read in other blogs, French parents give their children greater autonomy to explore their independence. Hence, children walk to school unattended, leave school unattended, and are entirely responsible for their academic activities. From early on, they need to dress themselves, put on their shoes, know where to go and what to do when asked. There is very little in terms of helicopter parenting. I like that, somewhat, even if I struggle with giving up some control.

Let’s see how this mother hen will change after this experience in parenting abroad.

Have you had any experiences abroad? Let me know what you’ve seen, heard, or lived, or if you have any questions just write them out below.

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Salut!