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Some people are homebodies—their couch is their comfort spot, and Netflix is their compass. 

Me? I’m the opposite. My happy place lives at the intersection of wine, food, and culture. Suppose there’s a passport stamp or two involved, even better. Toss in a few foreign phrases and maybe a new food I can’t pronounce, and I am thriving.

Don’t get me wrong—I’m loyal to my roots. But when you grow up in a small town in Indiana where summer travel is a weekend trip to Cedar Point or cheering for the Reds in Cincinnati, the bar for “exploring the world” isn’t exactly sky high. 

Heck, my childhood idea of an exotic vacation was Florida… and if you flew instead of drove, you were basically royalty.

So, how does a girl who couldn’t find France on a map end up ordering wine confidently in a Parisian bistro and discussing the PESO Model© with global colleagues? 

Ahhh mon ami. This is that tale.

Bonjour, Je Suis Confused

It all started with French class in high school. I didn’t pick French because I had visions of sipping Bordeaux on the Seine. I picked it because rumor had it Madame was easier than Herr Schmidt. Strategic academic maneuvering, if you ask me.

Now, learning a new language doesn’t exactly come easily to me. Let’s just say if my brain were a wine, it’d be a bit… corked. 

The learning curve? Steep. 

The forgetting curve? Even steeper. 

I crammed, passed, and promptly forgot how to conjugate every verb. But somewhere in the fog of flashcards and oral exams, a tiny seed was planted: maybe, just maybe, a bigger world was waiting beyond small-town Indiana.

College-Level French or My Own Personal Hunger Games

Flash forward to college, where my humanities major hit me with the dreaded requirement: six semesters of a foreign language. 

SIX. 

I stuck with French, thinking those high school years surely gave me a head start. (Spoiler alert: only moderately.)

French 101 and 102? Crushed it. 

201 and 202? Let’s call them mildly humbling. 

Then came 301 and 302: full immersion. No English. French lit. French discussions. 

I was suddenly expected to wax poetic about French history, culture, French foods – all en français.

I spent hours deciphering lessons with my dictionary and praying Madame would not ask me to speak spontaneously. 

I’ll never forget our professor trying to set all the single girls up with her son. Romantic matchmaking was clearly included in our tuition. It was French, after all….

Somehow, I made it. And somehow, I was fluent. Sort of.

Off to China, Armed with Enthusiasm and… Three Mandarin Phrases

Fast forward several years – plenty of life, very little French – and my job gave me my first chance to travel internationally. Cue dramatic music. But hold the Moulin Rouge – it wasn’t France but China.

When my boss asked, “Are you comfortable traveling alone to Shanghai?” I said “Absolutely!” with the confidence of someone who clearly did not fully understand what that entailed. Internally? Full panic mode.

I prepped the basics: hello, thank you, bathroom please. I loaded my iPod Nano (yes, it was the early 2000s) with Mandarin phrases and set off from Indy to Chicago to Shanghai, feeling slightly like a language sponge and mostly like an imposter.

Upon landing in Shanghai, cue the chaos. My driver? MIA. My Mandarin? Rough. 

I fumbled through conversations with airport staff who politely smiled and shrugged. Eventually, with help from a kind (and bemused) police officer and about seven panic texts, my host found me, and I was whisked off to my hotel. 

Two weeks later, I left China with a real respect for language barriers, a love for travel, and the knowledge that my pronunciation of Mandarin was comic relief for my colleagues.

Vive la France (and the Return of French 301 Nightmares)

Then came France. Finally! 

The land of buttery pastries, beautiful architecture, incredible wine, and a language I allegedly once knew.

I dusted off my old textbook (and memories of French 302 trauma) and tried to refresh myself on basic phrases. 

Surprisingly, much came back easily – at least on paper. 

Speaking? A different story. 

My accent carried the undeniable twang of a Midwestern upbringing, and I couldn’t roll an “r” to save my life. (Still can’t!)

But I managed. I asked questions, understood responses, and ordered wine without defaulting to pointing at the menu in despair. 

Over time, my job took me to France and beyond again and again. My vocabulary grew, my confidence bloomed, and though my colleagues teased me for occasionally sounding like a Francophone farm girl, I held my own.

Wait… Why Did I Forget Everything Again?

Here’s the thing no one tells you about learning: the forgetting curve is real. Like… painfully real.

You work hard, gain knowledge, feel like a rockstar – and then a week later it’s like your brain did a spring cleaning and tossed half of it out. If I don’t practice my French regularly, it slips away like leftover Brie on a warm day. Poof.

Turns out, there’s science behind it. We forget most of what we learn in seven days unless we reinforce it through repetition. 

Language, wine tasting, the PESO Model. No skill is safe from the forgetting curve.

Speaking of the PESO Model… It’s Kinda Like Learning French

Here’s where the dots connect.

As I reflect on how I learned the PESO Model – Paid, Earned, Shared, Owned – it was oddly similar to my French journey. 

First, I stared at it like it was a foreign language. Then I studied, listened to the Spin Sucks podcast, read the blog, stumbled through real-world applications, asked questions, made mistakes (some, chef’s kiss, spectacular), and gradually felt more fluent.

Sound familiar? It should! It’s exactly how you learn anything.

From Pinot Noir to PESO Model Pro

Just like wine tasting (and language learning, and surviving Shanghai’s airport):

  • Moment 1: You learn something new. You’re overwhelmed, but curious.
  • Moment 2: You want more. You dive deeper, fueled by caffeine and the hope of not sounding like a toddler.
  • Moment 3: You apply it. You test, experiment, and sometimes fail spectacularly.
  • Moment 4: Something goes wrong. You regroup, troubleshoot, and evolve.
  • Moment 5: You adapt. You grow, gain confidence, and even dare to mentor someone else.

So, whether it’s discovering the magic of Sancerre, decoding the PESO Model framework, or ordering dinner in a new language without accidentally asking for a horse steak (true story, not mine thankfully), the rule is simple: just start.

Quick Tips for Defeating the Forgetting Curve

Want to retain new knowledge like a champ? Here’s what worked for me -and what may save you from awkward language gaps or PESO Model confusion:

  • Listen to podcasts (Spin Sucks is a gem).
  • Read the blog. Then read it again with highlighters.
  • Use flashcards if you’re old school – or apps if you’re not.
  • Talk about what you’re learning. Teach your colleagues. Teach your dog. Just say it out loud.
  • Practice. Then practice some more. (Glass of wine optional but encouraged.)

Final Thoughts from a Former Small-Town Girl

So here I am, no longer judging wine by the cuteness of its label, no longer thinking a trip to Florida is “global,” and occasionally attempting to read French news articles without resorting to Google Translate.

I’ve learned that every skill, every journey, and every lesson requires patience, humility, and humor. And maybe a few embarrassing moments in an airport.

Just start. Make mistakes. Ask questions. Forget stuff. Relearn it. And if all else fails – order the wine, take the class, and remember it’s not about perfection. It’s about progress.

Cheers to the journey. 

© 2025 Spin Sucks. All rights reserved. The PESO Model is a registered trademark of Spin Sucks.

Shelly Verkamp

For more than two decades, Shelly was a transformative learning and development leader at Eli Lilly & Co. Known for building high-performing, adaptable learning organizations that delivered measurable business impact, spearheading enterprise-wide learning strategies infused with AI, her work consistently drove innovation and strategic growth. By pairing business objectives with sound adult learning principles, she has developed and delivered impactful learning initiatives. With a passion for elevating learning as a lever for business transformation, she thrives on helping learners stretch beyond their comfort zones to create lasting, meaningful impact. She brings a dynamic blend of commercial acumen, compliance insight, and global operational excellence to Spin Sucks. Shelly has both undergraduate and master’s degree in Adult and Secondary Education from Purdue University, West Lafayette. She currently lives in Indianapolis where she enjoys spending time with her friends and family. As the Chief Learning Officer at Spin Sucks, Shelly will lead our learning strategy - creating modern, impactful learning experiences to grow capabilities and fuel the future of marketing and communications.

View all posts by Shelly Verkamp