French Native Teacher. 15+ years experience. QCAA & IB Exam Specialist in online & 1-2-1 Lessons For Adults & Students. All levels. Message me to discuss options.

Learn more about Madame Gaelle

• Did you grow up speaking this language? Or were you inspired by a trip abroad, an individual or a certain aspect of the culture?

  I grew up speaking French, as I was born in Lyon, 1h30 from the French Alpes.

• Can you name a living, historical or fictional character that you think is the emblematic representative of the language's culture?

  For me the most emblematic cultural figure would have to be Le Petit Prince (The little Prince) — the character created by Antoine de Saint‑Exupéry (famous writer from Lyon!). He embodies the poetic, philosophical, humanistic spirit that for me defines French cultural identity.

• Is there a typical word, phrase, tradition or expression in the language that you particularly like?

  French has several beloved expressions and traditions that feel uniquely French — little cultural signatures woven into everyday language. The most emblematic would have to be “joie de vivre” and "je ne sais quoi", 2 phrases that capture the French love of pleasure, beauty, and savoring life.

• Why does speaking this language matter to you?

  Speaking French matters to me because it’s not just a language— it’s a home. My language carries identity, memory, worldview, and emotional texture. When I speak French, I am inhabiting a cultural space that shaped me long before I ever chose it.

• What is the main difficulty in learning this language and what can help the process of learning?

  I would say that the hardest part of learning French is mastering its structure — especially pronunciation, grammar, and the deep cultural nuance behind everyday expressions. What helps most is consistent exposure (little and often!), speaking early, and thinking in French, not just translating.

• Provide a valuable anecdote related to your language learning or your days at school.

  It happened during one of those legendary cours de poésie — the kind where the teacher asked everyone to memorize a poem by heart. This time, it was "Les roses de Saadi" by Marceline Desbordes-Valmore. The poem was short, charming, deceptively simple. Everyone thought, Easy. We’ve got this.
  
  The next day, the teacher began the ritual:
  
  “Gaelle, à toi.”
  
  I stood up, ready to recite. But as soon as I opened my mouth, something strange happened — the entire class leaned forward, because they all knew the same thing: Poems have a way of slipping out of your memory at the exact moment you need them.
  
  I started strong. The first few lines flowed perfectly. Then came that one verse — the one everyone always forgets.
  
  A long silence. The kind of silence that fills a classroom like fog.
  
  Someone in the back whispered the wrong word. Someone else tried to mime the line with exaggerated gestures. The teacher raised an eyebrow — that says “Je vois tout.”
  
  And then, suddenly, the missing line came back to me. I finished the poem flawlessly.
  
  The teacher smiled and said:
  
  “Voilà. La poésie, c’est comme la mémoire: ça revient quand on ne s’y attend pas.”
  
  The whole class laughed — partly out of relief, partly because it was true. French school taught me that language isn’t just rules and grammar; it’s rhythm, emotion, and those magical moments when words return to you like old friends.

• How has travel or a specific trip helped you to increase your skill and knowledge of the language?

  Being a French native, means that French language comes "naturally" to me! However I had to learn English to become bilingual, so I remember vividly when I moved to England after finishing my degree in English & German at university. I walked into a small café, ordered something simple, and suddenly the person behind the counter responded in a long unarticulated speedy phrase that I did not expect!
  
  I froze for a few seconds, thinking: "what was that?!" Then something clicked.
  
  I realised I was not translating anymore. I was responding.
  
  It’s the moment every bilingual person remembers: the first time your brain handles the language automatically, without effort. I left the café with my drink, but also with a quiet sense of victory. That tiny exchange — two minutes, maybe less — did more for my fluency than weeks of textbook exercises. It was the necessary step, the final piece of the puzzle after years of learning English!