Bonjour Friends,
Actually, hello. While I arrived at Charles de Gaulle as a girl in an “I Heart NY” tee, I leave as a woman in a beret.
To my dismay, my return to the United States of America has arrived. Shameless plug for the Harvard Office of International Education (your girl is *officially* an ambassador), but studying abroad is seriously one of the best things I’ve ever done.
As my friends know, I am very confident. At times, too confident. However, nothing is more humbling than moving to a foreign country by yourself. Yes, I am very lucky to have some family in Paris (shoutout famille!), but nonetheless, it was terrifying learning and adapting to a new culture when you have no choice but to make it your new norm. Want to do anything from the hours of 12-4 p.m.? Forget about it. As a New Yorker, I wanted “let’s go” versus “laissez-faire.”
The first day of my program’s orientation honestly felt like kindergarten. Who was I going to sit with? Did we have any mutuals on Insta? How tired did I look from my flight? ‘Twas comical, actually. Thank god for Keeley O’Gorman ’26, who was also in my program, also a Harvard Pfoho Baddie, and was right there with me. After making some friends (yay!), I then had to combat my social anxiety of engaging with French people daily. Imagine telling someone you’re from the U.S. in this economic and political climate. Imagine you exist in the same DECADE as “Emily in Paris.” Doomed. From. The. Start—just kidding!
From my experience, if you’re self-assured, respectful, and lean into speaking French, nine times out of ten, you’re met with a smile and (best case scenario) “tu parles bien français pour une américaine!” I’ll never get sick of that one. Instead of cosplaying a French girl, or worse, defaulting to English, it is SO much better to be a confident American who culturally adapts. Once I realized this behavioral hack, my entire travel perspective and persona shifted; I’m not fooling anyone with my accent, so the next best thing is trying to bring a good “rep” back to “Les États-Unis.”
Being an American in Paris these last five months has been very challenging, don’t get me wrong. There are things you miss and crave from home (bagels…also my family). There are cultural references you’ll never get abroad (“football” culture—people get into full street riots). And God knows you’ll often stick out like a sore thumb (If you’re in a group of English speakers, forget it). But it’s these little cultural differences that make studying abroad so much more special and worthwhile. Also, frankly, going abroad is a major life accomplishment.
Many ask: What’s the point? Was it worth it? What about the seniors I’ll never get to say bye to or see again?
I will begin with the last one. Firstly, imminent congratulations to the Class of 2025. Please, all go to Harvard grad schools as I’m in perpetual denial that you’re leaving. However, re: missing your last semester, you’re not dying… I’ll see my best friends again. Also, I live in New York, for God’s sake. I understand some of you will never forgive me for venturing abroad this semester, but isn’t it so much better to always remind me I missed your senior spring? I thought so. *HUG*
Back to the program: junior spring is really the best time to go abroad. Yes, you could go in the fall, but a) the semester itself is super short, and b) imagine moving into campus during the bleak, dead of winter. Horrific. Choosing to go abroad this spring allowed me to think more holistically about my college experience, both academically and socially. I knew exactly what requirements I had to check off and, more importantly, who my friends were before I left campus. Sure, I had FOMO at times. Of COURSE I did. But I also had the assurance of a fantastic senior year with an incredible group of friends waiting for me on the other side.
The point of going abroad? I could say it was to travel. I could say it was to immerse myself in the French language and culture (raging Francophile over here). But really, I went abroad for me—I grew so much as a person because I had the space to learn new things about myself. Cheesy as fuck, I know.
Never in my life, especially with my Type A ass, will I get to move abroad alone and have the freedom to figure myself out. I had no responsibilities (cough, school) and no problems (cough, I was robbed). Free will is alive and well, people! I could do whatever I wanted. I could go anywhere I pleased. Or, fuck it, I could have eaten €1.50 baguettes every goddamn day for every meal. Joy to the world!
To recap my Abreast on Abroad series, I visited over twenty different towns, cities, countries and regions (Final chronological list: Paris, Fontainebleau, Lyon, Edinburgh, St. Andrew’s, Dijon, Amsterdam, Chantilly, Copenhagen, Oslo, Madrid, London, Lisbon, Malta, Rome, Munich, Berlin, Warsaw, Lublin, Krakow, Majorca, and Avignon). Let me remind you, I was robbed. I survived a “ScareBnB.” Ironically, luck stayed on my side (Harry Styles paid for my cab). But most importantly, I made lifelong best friends.
I will miss and think about being abroad probably once a day for the rest of my life. Is this just a love letter to the OIE? Yeah, it is.
It’s fitting that my last letter to you all is in the Commencement Issue, as I graduate from a normal person to someone who won’t shut up about their time abroad. This past semester has changed me as a human being, thinker, and even patriot–eek. So, if you took anything from this wild word-vomit series, please consider either traveling or studying abroad, and make sure to keep your friends abreast of the ride.
Thank you all for reading, and keep those eyes peeled for my new column in the Harvard Independent (whatever it may be) next fall!
Kisses!
Sadie
Sadie Kargman ’26 (sadiekargman@college.harvard.edu) has concluded her reign as your favorite Shitstain in Paris.