The fact that my dad had chosen French also made me realize how similar we were and made me wonder over the years, "Why?" My dad is very much an artist at heart so was it an artist thing?
It turns out that being part Filipino with a family who spoke two Filipino dialects, Spanish was kind of a 'cousin' of the language. If I knew Spanish, I'd also know many words in Ilocano. That's why they were mad. When would I ever use French?
So I took the class. And of course in lieu of memorizing the verbs and affinatives, I daydreamed about gorgeous scenery, hot 'copains,' romance and art. While drawing at my desk.
And then, of course, the 'Mademoiselle' professor brought me back to reality with a question that I could not answer, breaking the spell.
All I wanted to do was draw, paint and write. And so that's exactly what I did.
So now I'm not fluent in French. Far from it. In fact, I just started using Duolingo to brush up on the basics I barely remember from high school in my spare time. And now, I better get a move on it because apparently the European Union (EU) seems more aware of food allergies and just might be a bit safer than the USA.