By Eilene Hoft-March, Professor of French
Reprinted from the Boynton Society Newsletter, a publication for supporters of Björklunden vid Sjön.
For my departmental colleagues and me, the French-language immersion program
at Björklunden has been so much a part of our
winter rhythm that I forget what it was like in the dark ages before the new
lodge.
A little history lesson tracing how far we have come is in order. Back
in 1990 our department became enthusiastic about the idea of creating a day-long
immersion experience in French for our students. According to the experts,
we were to spirit students away to a remote location, set up ground rules
for using French only (including written materials, music lyrics, and films
in French), and plan a variety of opportunities for communication in the language
and about French-speaking cultures.
Armed with these ideas, we set to creating a “journée à la
campagne,” that is, a day in the country. My wonderful friend
and colleague, Judy Sarnecki, offered her home as our “French” site
for the day. We planned and shopped. Judy cleaned. Gervais Reed baked beautiful
baguettes.
I ran a shuttle service between campus and Neenah. We organized parlor word
games, discussions on French films, and singing. We ran simultaneous cooking
lessons
on coq au vin, vinaigrette, and mousse au chocolat. And students loved it.
By its third anniversary our “journée à la campagne” had
grown in popularity. We also noticed a new phenomenon: students unable to
spend the whole day began to “drop in” for a meal or an hour
of conversation, sometimes bringing along non-French speakers who craved
cuisine a little more “haute” than
they might get on campus. It became clear to us that we were getting far
more immersed than our students.
Thus, when Lawrence’s trustees made their wise decision to rebuild
the Björklunden lodge in a grander version, our department
knew exactly how we might take advantage of the facility. Our “journée” expanded
into a full-fledged “week-end.” We now had space to
stage all manner of activities. Björklunden’s fabulous chef,
Steve Martin, cooked up at our request quiches and couscous, soupe à l’oignon,
and roti de porc, and that fact alone liberated the faculty from hours
of behind-the-scenes labor. We were now free to concentrate on the business
and the pleasure of teaching language
and culture
to clusters large and small of our willingly captive audience.
In our ten or so versions of the “week-end à la campagne,” we
have watched French and francophone newscasts, observing the interesting
shifts of perspective on events common to the whole world. We
have learned the latest dances from West Africa, usually courtesy of
our Senegalese language assistant or our own colleague from Cameroon, Lifongo
Vetinde. Students
have showcased their talents in musical performances or dramatic readings
or improvisational skits (all in French, bien sur!). We have taken hikes
in the
woods, sometimes in knee-deep snow, which offers the opportunity to present
specialized vocabulary for weather, nature, and survival. And we’ve
treated ourselves to private film showings of the latest in French-language
cinema. (The latest,
not always the greatest. Who was it that selected that dreadful film, “Le
Pacte des loups,” with its inane blend of history, science fiction,
and downright creepy horror story? Oh well, it certainly fueled discussion!)
And
then there are the many conversations that take place around a meal or
a cup of cocoa, or in front of the fireplace.
When we publicize this special opportunity to students and even to a
broader audience, we often call it our “laboratory,” our mini field experience
that simulates something of the real field experience — in our
case, living abroad in another culture.
During our Björklunden immersion weekend, we have the time and space
to offer authentic language experience over an extended period of time, so
extended,
in fact, that students often feel strange returning to English. But,
to describe the weekend only in terms of an intense encounter with foreign
language and culture
would miss the fact that it is, crucially, at Björklunden. That
exquisite little patch of planet becomes a sanctuary for us all, a respite
from the ceaseless
din of busyness that accompanies most undertakings in our American culture.
Yet, even as Björklunden gets us away from the hubbub on campus,
it also gets us back to a setting where learning can take place freely
and naturally.
Perhaps
most importantly, it is, for our students and for us, the place where
we experience living as a small community, and that in and of itself
is good
preparation for
world citizenship.
What more can I say than “vive Björklunden”!