January 31st, 2022 / µ

Parisian Language Schools

Years ago, a friend and I decided to write a story about working as underpaid and overworked English teachers in Paris based on my experiences as an English teacher in a Parisian language school.

I had taken the job on a dare to prove that these schools would hire anybody. They did. They hired me. I won the bet.

But it turned out that it was not just the hiring process that was a bit dodgy. The working conditions were horrible!

To make a long story short, I would get the documentation and get out of there. I did. But nothing ever came of it. It seems the working conditions of young foreign professionals in Paris are not of interest to anyone. And the story we set out to write was turned into a nauseating romantic novel over the years. But let's get back to the language schools in Paris.

The schools were more often than not desperate for teachers due to an increasing need for French professionals to learn English combined with a quick turnover of teaching staff around town. As long as you had a university degree and spoke native or near-native English, you were in!

Why the quick turnover? Because the conditions were truly horrible!

The low wages were the biggest problem. Once, I sat down and tried to figure out my actual hourly salary instead of the one on my payslip. Considering transportation and preparation, it came down to around 5 – 10 Euros an hour. It was in the 2000s, so you have to consider price development. But it was still close to or below minimum wage.

My school had some of the biggest names in fashion, pharmaceuticals, construction, and banking as clients, and the clients did pay well. However, still, the school did not see fit to pay their staff a decent wage. Most people I met had taken these jobs to enter the French labor market and get access to health care and universities, which these schools exploited to the max. Most teachers I knew back then were, objectively speaking, poor.

You Don’t Do It For The Money

However, the girls and guys I met teaching English in Paris never did it for the money but for just about any other reason:

Live in Paris for a couple of years
Learn French the natural way
Attend French university (almost free)
Gain work experience
Romantic notions
Dreaming of becoming writers/journalists
An inner Hemingway wanting to develop and breathe Left Bank air.
Put the experience on their CV
Personal reasons
Just passing through

I Dare You!

Me, I had, as mentioned, taken the job on a dare. It went something like this at The Frog & The Rosbif in the second arrondissement in the early fall of 2008:

”I dare you!” Ryan said (Let’s call him Ryan. That wasn’t his name).

“Seriously?”

“Yes, seriously. 500 €!” (I honestly don’t remember the exact amount).

“500 € and all I have to do is get a contract?” I asked.

“Yep!”

“You’ve already lost! These places will hire anyone as long as you can spell your name!”

“Well, then it should be easy….”

“Challenge accepted!”

“Are you sure? I mean, these are shitty places?” Suzanne said (Her name was not Suzanne).

“How long do I have to stay?”

“Two months, trial period.”

“Okay, fine.”

“Seriously, that’s just stupid. There’s a reason everyone calls the contract in these schools noodle contracts: Bad contracts, no benefits, low pay, in reality often lower than minimum wages, and 60-hour workweeks. Only foreigners take these jobs.”

“And that’s the point. –2 months?”

“2 months. That’s it. Get in and get out again.”

“I will do it! How bad can it be?”

“Bad! Welcome to the salt mines à la françaises!” Suzanne stated.

And she was right.

Two weeks later, I had been through several job interviews and said no to equally many minus one. I put aside my life for what I planned to be for a couple of months – it turned into almost 9.

Hard Work When You Got It

Summing up, it was hard work. You were only assured 500 working hours per year though you were expected to be available for about 60 hours per week and were only paid per class.

You spend a lot of unpaid time dragging your rear end all over that vast metropolis and, by necessity learning all the alleys and shortcuts around the various neighborhoods. Lunch breaks? On the metro, walking from client to client, you ate on your own time. Holidays? If you could afford the time off. Benefits? Not a chance. Help if clients behaved like jerks? Nope.

The conditions were objectively speaking – I know, as stated twice before in this text - awful. But it was a great insight and way into every level of Parisian society. And that money cannot buy.

Hemingway & Romantics

In addition, this lifestyle had a romantic feel to it. Every day, people arrived in Paris with a teeny tiny Hemingway in their stomach, carrying A Moveable Feast as if it were a sacred text. And the schedule in these schools left you with free time on your hands between classes.

You quickly got to know the city by heart, every street and alley, and you could survive on the salary and just live. And then poverty does not seem so bad, just another life experience that will most likely improve dramatically with age.

Working in one of these schools did open doors to the French healthcare and educational system. It also gave you that French work experience on your resume that enabled you to apply for other jobs in France. It was a chance to live and work in Paris for a while, romantic poverty included.

Paris Is Romance, That’s It!

And that was the story we wanted to tell. However, nobody gave a damn about the truth about how young Anglos were exploited in Parisian language schools. Paris is beauty and romance, and that's it! The truth behind the Haussmannian facades? No interest! Tell your story walking! And for a while, that was it. The text became a desk-drawer project.

However, over the years, being the type who has difficulty leaving projects unfinished, I repeatedly changed the text until someone saw something in it. Then I went that way with this text until it had nothing to do with reality. And then, well, another person lost interest.

Now, the story is a romantic story that's light years away from the poverty-ridden reality I experienced in those days in Paris when working as an English teacher.

So, for me, it is back to the keyboard to tell a story closer to the truth.

Thanks for reading! I hope you found it valuable and worth your time! Until next time, remember to get your facts straight and that whatever good times you have will never come back as bad times,