I was the first one in my family to have reached the baccalaureate, my parents were so proud. They couldn’t afford to send me to a university. After two attempts I got a grant. I discovered Paris, and graduated. I wanted to teach, it was a mission.

For my first posting I wasn’t offered the best of neighborhood. I discovered resentment and violence I had never imagined. As young as twelve all they want is to plunder or burn what they can’t have. They only listen to those who comfort them in their hatred.

I refused to be posted to another Parisian suburb. They told me that I don’t have the seniority to be appointed to a better neighborhood. I resigned.

Thanks to Erasmus I taught French in Scotland. I was lucky to avoid the rougher parts of Glasgow. I love the rugged shores and the romantic castles. As a French I was welcomed, and improved my English.

When I had a few days off I decided to visit Oxford. After the Bodleian Library I pushed the door of Lady Margaret Hall. To the bowler hatted gentleman I asked, “Would you have an opening for a French professor ?” It was a long shot !

The “Beagle” looked surprised and then smiled. He gave me a form and while filling it up I had doubts, “I don’t have a PHD nor a Master, any chance of being hired with a Bachelor’s degree?” He again smiled and gave me the name of Miss Winifred Szabo, and mentioned Oaks and Pines.

I understand that the girls are taught French at the Montreux International Campus, I would try to offer some of the culture and history behind the language.