FR vs. US

There's apparently a lot of hype in the U.S. lately over a new book that makes a comparison between American parents and French parents, and concludes that French parents are superior.

I have one thing to say to this: I work in the schools. I see French children day in and day out.  Heeeeeeeeeellll no.

Now this isn't to say that the French are bad parents, or that Americans are such great parents. I agree, with the author of the above article I've linked to, that "good parenting is borderless". It's the constant comparison and attempt to one-up each other, between the two nations, that gets on my nerves. This certainly isn't the first time such a comparison has been made. I hate to break it to you, my naive American friends, but French women DO get fat, just as easily as Americans, and some of them have the jambons to prove it.

I can't help but relate this to my own experiences of stereotypes, here in France and across the pond, regarding our two great countries. And maybe I just need to get this out on the table, anyway: sometimes, it isn't very fun being American in France.

Now, I love being American. I think our country has a wonderful, rich culture that is growing and developing. We excel in multiple ways, in numerous areas, and we have a wealth of resources at our fingertips. One thing I love the most about being an American is that, for the most part, we are comfortable with dealing with foreigners. Now, I don't mean to say that there aren't some awfully xenophobic Americans; we all know there are. But in general, we encounter foreigners and non-native English speakers on a day-to-day basis, and we are curious and, if not welcoming, at least tolerant of a variety of cultural customs... which is more than I can say for some other nations I've visited around the globe. We have a variety of cultural experiences available to us in the U.S., and if we can manage to extract ourselves from the xenophobic politics happening in America today, we can keep our tradition of immigration and open-arms alive. The truth is, and it wouldn't hurt for the world to remember it when they make jabs at Americans (or for xenophobic Americans to remember it when they think the country belongs to them), that we are a nation of immigrants. Almost any American you meet is a mutt, a mixture of several different ethnic, racial, or national backgrounds. And these, my friends, are native Americans. They aren't white, in case you can't tell.

But being American in France? Not easy. Because, first of all, there are the stereotypes: Americans, in the French mind, are loud, fat, and arrogant. Visit the line outside the Eiffel Tower one fine, June afternoon, and you'll see why this stereotype exists. And it isn't just the French that think this of Americans: I've discovered that most of the world already has this idea in mind about us.

It wouldn't bother me so much if I could manage to meet people without their alluding to hamburgers every time they talk to me (for the record, I eat a hamburger maybe once a year), or questioning me incessantly about the Bush years (ahem, France, your president is Nicolas Sarkozy, and ours is now Barack Obama. I rest my case.). But unfortunately, at some point in each of the weeks/months I pass here, I get blamed for shutting down Megaupload, even though I clearly had nothing to do with it (and, honestly, have never used the site in my life... so I'm sorry you can't pirate films or music as easily as you used to anymore; maybe try buying them on Itunes, like I do?), or laughed at for coming from a country where, according to the French, no one can drive a stick (again, let the record state: I drive a VW Cabrio back home, manual transmission).

The point is, what makes sense and feels comfortable to you is not necessarily going to be the same in another country. Just because you use the metric system, and centigrade temperatures, doesn't make those, or you, superior... it's just that you're accustomed to those systems. Just because you happen to act a certain way in public, doesn't mean everyone in every country in the world does, or should. So Americans are loud? Well, I've never stepped foot outside of my door in France without getting stared at, constantly, for no reason whatsoever. The French love to stare, and are terribly curious. This drives me crazy, but, well, it's a different culture... who am I to judge?

Furthermore, it would serve all of us well to remember that France and the U.S. have a history of friendship. It was a fine moment last night, as my fellow American friend Lilly and I explained the American Revolution to our Scottish friend Finn, when we both recalled that it was with France's aid, and probably solely thanks to their having supplied us with weapons and munitions, that we won our independence from England. Yet before my French readers get too chuffed, let's not forget that they would be speaking German now if it weren't for the solidarity, American and other, that helped them to defeat the Nazis in World War II.  What I'm getting at is, we have reason to be friends.

The point of all this is that, in this "global" world, where we are all much more exposed to a multitude of different ways of "being" and "doing" than ever before, we must keep in mind, not that not everyone is like us, but rather, that everyone is not like us... and that that's a good thing. And while I love France, I have to say, I'm looking forward to my vacation to Atlanta in a few days, where it's currently 37 degrees Fahrenheit (and that's cold), where I can't wait to enjoy Mexican and Indian food, in addition to the requisite Chick-Fil-A sandwich, and where I'll be glad to see my Spanish and Greek friends, love my Tunisian boyfriend, and, well, be a plain old ATLien once again.

I just have to say, there is one thing that the French do better than us, and that I don't at all mind bringing back across the pond with me. Plus, as a French teacher in the States, you can't blame me for mixing in a little advertising on my blog... because, after all, if we try to speak each others' languages, we'll understand each other a whole lot better.