Three-Time Alum Reflects on His Path to Middlebury Language Schools

Robert Michael Finn

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Hometown: Peoria, Illinois

Program: 7-week Immersion (3x)

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My blue-collar home never used the following two words in the same sentence – if and college. Rather, it was invariably when and college. Therefore, by junior high I was well aware of a common university prerequisite – two years of foreign language study. French was offered in eighth grade an hour every day before school. Since classes ran a full year, it counted as first-year high school French.  I jumped at the opportunity. But alas, at year’s end my sentiments toward the language were tepid at best.  It wasn’t the teacher, it was me. My attitude was one more year of this and I’ll be done with it.

Then came high school. Within six weeks the instructor had me completely turned around. I loved it. What magic was this? Only French was used in the classroom – period. All conversation had to be full French sentences. A simple yes or no would never cut it. During three years in that classroom, I heard a cumulative four or five paragraphs in English. It was used only when an explanation of a particularly thorny grammar issue was required.​​

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A second high school watershed event occurred in a mathematics class. I had Mrs. Barnett for both algebra and geometry. The former I liked, the latter I loved, and she knew it. It became necessary for her to take a few days off. She put me in charge of teaching our geometry classes during her absence. Thank God this was still before the ‘litigate everything’ legal environment so a licensed adult substitute was not required in the room. On second thought, maybe one was required but she decided to ignore it. It was just me teaching in that room. My experience was probably best summed up by Maya Angelou – “but people will never forget how you made them feel”. A dormant seed had been implanted in my core. Perhaps one day I will be a teacher.

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As a Marquette undergrad, my strong high school ‘Middleburyesque’ foundation enabled me to place out of 3 of a required four semesters.

Two decades later found me in Purdue University’s MBA program. Graduate business studies typically include an international component. Ours involved classes in Paris and Budapest. On the cab ride from the airport into Paris, I was shocked that I could still carry on a decent conversation in French with the driver. High school full-immersion had to be the reason. 

Upon returning home I consumed as much industrial strength French as I could find – newspapers, magazines, radio, TV, music, et al. As the Internet was just starting to come into full fruition, material was plentiful.

No one had to convince me about the efficacy of full immersion. But how could I ever get 7 consecutive weeks off in the summer? Fate was patiently waiting just off stage.  

Turn of the millennium employment in the telecommunications industry was a rocky endeavor.After spending two decades with one company, a wild job market found me in a string of tech nerd consulting gigs in four states, none of them lasting more than six months. I told myself that there had to be something more stable out there.

Multiple thoughts flashed through my mind within milliseconds. My still extant predilection for teaching. A stable job. Boss will never tell me to jump on yet another plane. Undergrad major and minor both sciences so my marketability should be strong. And most important for this story, teaching = summers off = Middlebury!! I decided within a second or two. Two years later with MEd and Pennsylvania certification in hand, I began a decade of teaching science in a 150-year-old urban middle school. The challenges as well as the rewards were plentiful. The remaining path to Middlebury, however, had two significant medical potholes awaiting me.

In early 2011 I was excited to be accepted and enrolled at Middlebury. Then it hit me. After twenty-four consecutive years without a sick day, spinal stenosis struck me with a vengeance in the spring. I spent three weeks largely on my back. Injections and physical therapy gradually returned me to a semblance of normal. But I was in no shape to go to Middlebury. I was heartbroken but determined to try again the following year.

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And indeed, early 2012 found me again accepted and enrolled. Then came a more somber diagnosis – prostate cancer. Recovery from an April surgery again left me in no shape to go to Vermont. This time, I was even more heartbroken but still determined.

Placement testing put me on the borderline between levels three and four. I knew either would be challenging so I opted for three. My reasoning - if I liked this place, I wanted to have the option of coming back for a second year at the undergraduate level. 2017 saw me back for level 4 at the School of French. And largely to facilitate communication with my students in a heavily Hispanic school, 2015 found me in Level 1.5: High Beginning Spanish.

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My deep affinity for Middlebury springs from its plentiful assets. Outstanding faculty and staff passionate about their mission, extra-curricular activities, theatre, a full immersion environment facilitated by the Language Pledge®, three summers spent there in my seventh decade, Vermont and the Green Mountains. Recent summers have often included making short return visits to campus to renew old ties, attend talks and exhibitions, or just hang out on the Proctor patio. Thoughts of returning for grad school are constantly churning through my head.

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Perhaps the end of my first year provides the best insight. Like other schools, we had a final banquet ending with a countdown marking permission to return to English. After the clock reached zero and nearly two months of 7/24 French (yes, even in dreams), my ears were assaulted by harsh Midwestern English spilling out of my mouth. I recoiled at my diction which sounded hard, foreign, and distant. Could that voice possibly be mine? I didn’t like it and immediately wanted to go back into my Middlebury French bubble.