Excuse My French

I'm just going to come out any say it: accents are cool.

I don't care if it's a French accent, Italian accent, Australian accent, or even a Texan accent, the hinting sounds of another language or dialect makes my ears happy.

Two months ago, my friend Julie and I ventured to Vancouver, BC and spoke in (awful) British accents whenever we were out on the town. Although we sounded like we were more from a Harry Potter movie than Manchester, I noticed that the Vancouver audience enjoyed our accents as much as we did. Strangers stopped us in the street just to listen to our voices. People gave us special service at restaurants and, I am almost embarrassed to say, we were even given VIP access to one of the hottest clubs in town (let's just say that the 100 or so people waiting in line were not pleased to see us get in ahead of them). So, maybe our Afro wigs and awesome high heels had SOMETHING to do with our special service too, but I am fully convinced that it was the accents that clinched the deal. I'm sure that most of you would agree with me if I said that, as shallow as it might sound, accents make a person a little (if not a lot) more interesting than if they were speaking in a 'normal' tone. In fact, I can prove it.

Come to my classroom any day of the week and you'll find me struggling to teach distributive property (baby steps to algebra) to fifth and sixth graders. Just when they're about to nod off to sleep out of sheer boredom, I switch to a stereotypical French accent and (voila!) I instantly have their full, undivided attention. It's true!

As much as I enjoy playing around with languages and pretending to be from different countries, I fail at actually learning the language. Several years ago, I grabbed a 'Learn Italian in the Car' CD from the discount table at Costco in hopes of absorbing the information and delivering it in a perfect Italian accent. In went the CD, the program prompted me to repeat the letters of the Italian alphabet, numbers, and months- which I did with ease. I worked through each chapter, repeating sentences and phrases back to the dashboard.

"THIS IS SO EASY!" I thought to myself as I cruised through traffic. Convinced that I was one of those people you see on Oprah with an uncanny ability to learn languages, I finished my Burlitz course and anxiously waited for a chance to demonstrate my abilities to unsuspecting friends and family.

When the time came to show off my linguistic talents, however, I realized that they only Italian I knew were parroted phrases from my CD course:

"Mi ciamo Maria Santoni" Translation: "My name is Maria Santoni." "Mio marito e Italiano" Translation: "My husband is Italian"

If my name WERE Maria Santoni and if I WERE actually married, and if my husband WERE Italian, everything would be 'molto buona'. I also knew how to tell someone that I was from Colorado (which I am not) and that I have three children (which I don't).

Revelation: I can copy anything people say almost perfectly. But when it comes to conjugating verbs and forming my own sentences, I can't find my way out of a paper bag.

That was the end of my attempt at Italian. I think that when the time comes for me to venture through Italy, France, Greece, and anywhere else I travel in the next year, I'll just throw on my Afro wig and speak in my Harry Potter voice- people love that.