Merci et on y va

This year I learned the power of a noun. Sometimes an adjective. Suprisingly frequently a verb. I am a writer. I am American. Oui, I speak French.

In pursuit of a goal I stripped down my life to what felt like less than the bare minimum and I moved 6000 miles away, where I knew no one and I knew nothing and while I definitely brought something in that stuffed luggage, it was a whole lot less than I was used too. Then I ate less, decorated less, did less, and slept more. And then it was time to start adding things back in.

That was what French was: a mechanism to distill the gunk and figure things out, figure me out, even if I didn't realize that's what I was doing. I had realizations and ideas all the time in English, both passing thoughts and heavy moments of truth, but I frequently found that truth nestled in a kernel of French. French. A language that I was building up from the rickety base of 3 mispronounced, unrelated words. And yet, only a few weeks in, we arrive at a point where my prof can say, and I can understand, that Dana, Elle est ecrivan. At the time I had never earned a penny for my work and by no stretch of my imagination could I imagine it being my identifier, and yet here I was, with the ability to say so little, leaning against this enchanting proposition with a timid Oui.

It is a wonderful feeling, to feel special and unique for all the right reasons. And it is truly a gift to be able to give that feeling to others. It's something I received on so many occasions over the past 11 months, from this incredible, chic, brilliant gaggle of international friends and classmates and teachers. And the most incredible thing is how powerful their words are. I hold on to them like prayer beads and cycle through the kindness, starting over when I get back to the beginning, because my gratitude never quite overtakes my disbelief, and the only cure for my imperfections and confidence seems to be to trust that what they've said is true. I love them for so many reasons and respect them for so many more, so I seem obliged to internalize their gentillesse.

That I'm special. That I'm a writer. That I have a big heart. That I'm going to be a great teacher. That I'm going to be ok.

As somebody who has always been a little too self reliant I now find myself asking and listening more than ever before in my life. Swimming lost among the hungry harks and jelly fish of la subordonée du temps and le subjonctif can do that to you, make you reach out for a lifesaver, make you lean on others for wisdom and cues. I learned to come second. I learned to enjoy being bad but still being my best. I almost learned to cut myself some slack. But I learned to let my outstretched hand be a step up for someone else, that if my failures help someone, even if it's not me, great. I want us to all make it. All for one. One for all.

And that's really what conversation is. It's a team effort. It's two or four or 10 people working together to share their emotions and ideas and go somewhere new together, arrive at a new realization. It's hard to see that in English, in America. There I talk to catch up, to fill the silence, to be heard...but to distill those words down to the most basic communication...there aren't enough words to shoot the shit. You have to economize, save your words for the big things, the important things. The things that are necessary for survival. Food, education, love. And in doing that, you find that talking and expression unto itself is necessary for survival. Each and every one of us is so spectacularly different, and how can we celebrate that if we don't share ourselves with the world?

There are so many nouns that weren't important to me before that are now. American. Writer. Artist. Liberal. Jewish. The list goes on. Things that were always a part of me, but which I never felt this acutely until now. But the most important thing is that I didn't discover them alone. Language is social. Life is social. And in surrounding myself with people who challenged themselves, with people who have high expectations, who believe in themselves and in me, I was able to become the best version of myself, and tear myself away from an incredible city in pursuit of a new adventure. Donc merci et on y va.