“Parles-tu français ? !” “Mais oui, je parle français !” Every time I open my mouth to utter a few words in French, this is the reaction. It’s always been important to me to communicate not only in English but in other languages that were not mine from birth. My mother tongue is English, but I often find myself teetering between “proper” English and Geechee, a language spoken in South Carolina and Georgia by descendants of slaves. My identity is based largely on the languages I speak and the ways in which I interpret different cultures. Through these languages, I connect with the world around me, my family and culture, and I challenge myself linguistically when possible. French has encompassed all three of these aspects, but to better explain the role of French in my life, I need to go back to my roots.

Since my family is from the South, my parents have tried their hardest to keep our connections to our past alive. My mother is from South Carolina while my father is from Georgia and they both have families that speak Geechee, a language developed by slaves brought over during the Middle Passage. Geechee meant that the slaves were connected, that the White man could not take everything away from my people. At first, I was ashamed to speak this language, but as I have grown older, I have learned the importance of this language and the importance of not being proper or “speaking White”. Through my journey to embrace Geechee, I have gained the ability to code-switch, the practice of alternating between two or more languages or varieties of language in conversation, depending on my surroundings. I use it as a way to protect the most vulnerable part of me: my familial roots. Remembrance is key in the Black family, especially when society tries to say otherwise. I honor the family members who have gone before me through our language, through our perseverance. This perseverance has added to my determination to become proficient in another language: French.

When I reached the ripe age of five, my world started to change in terms of language: I was now beginning to learn not only English but French as well. At the private school I attended, I chose French because my older sister was also learning French in school and my grandmother spoke some at home. I began learning simple phrases like “hello,” “goodbye,” and “my name is.” I did not know it at that moment, but this language would change my life and put me on a path marked by travel and self-discovery.

In seventh grade, I moved from my tiny Catholic school to an independent school where I somehow made it into the advanced French class that prepared students for Honors and AP levels in high school. This was the first time I was thoroughly challenged in class. I remember arriving with my palms sweaty and my legs unwilling to carry me. I knew that most of these kids had been speaking French for the same amount of time I had, but for some reason, it seemed as if they could speak more eloquently and could understand everything the teacher said. I soon realized that other students had tutors or had parents who were from France and spoke the language at home. I felt as if I had hit a plateau in terms of my learning. Somehow I made it through that class and went on to study French in high school.

My first two years of high school were even harder. I can think of countless occasions when teachers belittled the work I had turned in, my test performance, or my uncertain responses in class. To say I was discouraged is an understatement. I can still recall a day in my junior year when my French teacher handed back my test on the subjunctive and said, in front of the rest of the class, “You probably don’t want to look at that now,” as she rolled her eyes. I am not sure if my teacher thought I was incapable of learning French because of my race – which would not have been an unusual reaction at my school – or if she did not believe I belonged in her class because my level of understanding may have been lower. Due to the backhanded comments from my teachers, I vowed to continue speaking French in college and to possibly even major in the language. As I reflect on my time in Montclair Kimberley Academy’s French classrooms, I believe that my teachers’ refusal to invest in my academics as they did for other students who had French tutors while I learned on my own, is the reason I pushed myself to continue learning French at Smith.

My first college French course was Madame Métral’s French 220: High Intermediate French. It was the first time I felt as if I could keep up with the rest of the class and could make mistakes without being ridiculed. When I walked into class, I was not paralyzed with anxiety to the point where I could not utter a single word. It was the first time I could see myself benefitting from the language and its instruction. Although I had been learning French for over ten years, it finally clicked in that first college class. French began to roll off my tongue with an ease I had never experienced. I began to think and dream in French when school was not even in session. I had finally unlocked a hidden part of myself. I could finally be myself not only in English but French as well.

“Mayotte Capécia: Reprendre l’identité de la femme martiniquaise de Frantz Fanon” is the research project that I had the chance to conduct through the Mellon Mays Undergraduate Fellowship during my last two years at Smith. I used this project as a way to find out more about people who look like me and eloquently write their histories in the French language. Not only did I feel seen by their works, I also felt as if I finally belonged in the French language. Through my research project, I began to understand that French is not solely for the White philosophers that I was made to think represented the entirety of French literature. French clicked for me at this point because I finally saw myself and understood what writers like Frantz Fanon and Mayotte Capécia were trying to articulate because it was also my struggle in America. The way I honored my ancestors through Geechee is the same way Capécia and Fanon used French and Creole in Martinique.

Trials and tribulations seem to be part of the narrative for people like me. People who are not meant to be in White, intellectual spaces but somehow still persevere. People who are meant to meet adversity but somehow do not let it break them. This is the narrative of my people, the Geechee. This is the story of other Black students who are told they cannot accomplish anything in academia but prevail by any means necessary. So, when someone asks if I speak French, I proudly answer that I do.

Kimani Freeman is a recent graduate from Smith where they studied French and Sociology. At Smith, Kimani had the chance to create their own research project through the Mellon Mays Undergraduate Fellowship, which helps foster diversity in academia. For the next two years, Kimani will be teaching seventh grade English/Humanities in Springfield, Massachusetts, through Teach For America. They hope to continue their love for the French language well after undergrad.

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