Our life in France – school

(Please note that this post reflects our experience in the early 1990’s – I can’t speak for what anyone would experience today.)

After living in Cébazat for six months or so, we moved to Sainte Foy-lès-Lyon, a suburb of Lyon.  Vance turned five over the summer, so it was time for him to start maternelle grande section, or what we call kindergarten.   In order to enroll Vance in school, we had to purchase an insurance policy.  I’m not 100% sure why, but it was our understanding it was in case he injured another student.

Vance attended maternelle in the yellow two story building in the picture above.  There was no drop off and pick up line.  Parents walked their children into and out of the building every day.  I swore I would never forget the schedule that Vance went but, of course, I have.  I would guess that his schedule was something like 8:30 to 11:30 in the morning and 1:00 to 4:00 in the afternoon.  He came home for lunch every day and only went half a day on Wednesday.

Vance’s class had 26 students in it – his teacher had no aide and no parents volunteered in the classroom.  (I offered my services many times, but the teacher only accepted them a few times.)  The only time she got a break, besides lunch, was for P. E.  The students at Vance’s school studied judo and modern dance for P. E.  As you might guess, Vance loved judo, but wasn’t as crazy about dance.

The class didn’t work in workbooks or on mimeograph sheets – the teacher took their notebooks home and hand-wrote work-sheet style assignments for them to do in every single one of those notebooks.  She also maintained a communication notebook with each family in which she wrote announcements and kept us abreast of progress.  We were free to express concerns and questions back to her in that notebook.  I don’t know how she did it all!

In maternelle, Vance learned to read French through phonics.  (We’re not sure when he learned to read English, since he taught himself.)  The paper there looked like graph paper, rather than lined paper, and Vance and the rest of his class were taught cursive writing with a ballpoint pen.  When they became proficient enough with a ballpoint pen, they were advanced to a fountain pen.  (That’s Vance’s first fountain pen to the left.)  This was a big day and the teacher told me we should have cake at home to celebrate when Vance first used his fountain pen.

The students at Vance’s school didn’t wear uniforms, but did wear a tablier (it was almost like a little jacket) in school every day to protect their clothing.  The tablier came home on Fridays to be washed and went back to school on Mondays.  The students changed clothes for P.E., even in maternelle, with the boys and girls all changing at the same time in the classroom.  Of course, this never bothered Vance, but we had friends with a 15 year old son who was mortified that he had to undress in front of girls.

Discipline was different there, too.  Vance would come home and complain that the teacher pulled his hair.  When I asked him why, he said, “I wasn’t doing anything.”  Finally one day, he admitted to talking, so I told him to stop talking if he didn’t want his hair pulled. If a student became unruly they were made to stand outside of the classroom – as far as I know, there was only one girl in Vance’s class who had to be disciplined that way.

I still have Vance’s notebooks, tablier, and fountain pen from maternelle.  Going to maternelle and cours préparatoire (first grade) in France was a great experience for him.  Here’s a picture of him and his wonderful maternelle teacher: