Just a little thing...

I was Christmas shopping in a cave today. Not literally a cave, like with bats and stuff, but that's what they call wine stores/cellars here. I was the only customer in the store, so I spent a bit of time chatting with the guy working. Somehow we got around to talking about my accent. I told him that it bothered me, that it was annoying when people couldn't understand me no matter how hard I tried to say something, and that I didn't like that people could almost instantaneously recognize me as an American, or at least an English-speaker. And what he said in response really struck me. He said:

"Don't worry about your accent, keep it. You know French well enough, you have the vocabulary and you speak it with ease. Your accent is charming and it's cute, but most importantly, it's part of who you are. Keep it."

Part of who I am. Hm. It's hard for me to think of my accent as a good thing; I hear so many other Americans speak French with the same accent, and it makes me cringe. But I guess he's right. My native language is full of harsh sounds. It's a square, rough, ugly thing that in no way facilitates the speaking of a pretty and flowing language like French. But it was what I grew up with, what I still use daily, the reason I know almost everything that I know. It determined what culture I grew up in; to a certain extent English determined how I would see the world.

Thanks to English, I have this accent, this funny, obnoxious American accent. And even if I can't do it yet, I will learn to be proud of it. I can look at it like I look at every scar I have. It's there, it's obvious, and it tarnishes something that a lot of people have in a flawless form. But I worked hard for it, at the very least I had a heck of an adventure for it, and it is part of who I am.

So, cave worker, thank you. I'll probably never see you again, but you've made a huge impact on my life.