C'est à cause des Américains!

I begin with an anecdote. Today in class, a group of garçons were chatting away, heedless of the fact that I was trying to teach (well ok, in spite of this fact), so I stopped and asked them what was so interesting, what were they talking about. "Oh," one of them responded, "we were just talking about the economic crisis. C'est à cause des Américains." (It was caused by Americans). "Well, yeah. Sorry," I shrugged, matter of factly, after trying to make him repeat all of that in English.

Here, everything is blamed on America. (Naturally, I exaggerate, but bear with me). The economy (ok true), globalization (ie global uniformity), even bin Laden has begun targeting France because "the refusal of your president [Nicolas Sarkozy] to withdraw from Afghanistan is the result of his obedience of America." Bush was universally hated and luckily, Obama is just as universally worshipped (despite his problems at home). McDonald's is making the world fat and Sarah Palin is a psychopath. I paint a bleak picture here--but of course it's not as black and white as that. I'm not saying France hates the US--it's certainly more of a love-hate relationship, if anything. Mcdo (en francais: Mac-doe) is always crowded, wearing Nike (pronounced to rhyme with mike rather than nik-ee ) shoes or a North Face jacket is a sign of la classe, and of course, everyone loves American movies and prefers American series to French ones. We are often the butt of jokes, but hold a certain fascination for the French-especially for their President, Nicolas "Rockstar" Sarkozy.

My students are fascinated by the fact that I not only come from the US, but from the ultimate dreamland, CALIFORNIA!! Naturally, I'm friends with moviestars and know how to surf--but oh yeah, Arnold Schwarzinegger is (now officially was) governor and Los Angeles is a hotbed of violence (though I explained that as long as you avoid Compton, you should be safe, at least from Trojans).

We've been allies since the beginning--France helped us win the Revolutionary War. Her rivalry with Britain outweighed ideological issues. Considering that France was still a monarchy at the time, it seems counterintuitive--and ultimately counterproductive given the outbreak of the French Revolution 8 years after the conclusion of our own--to support such a cause. This was simply the beginning of our complicated, but ultimately fruitful and generally friendly, relationship.

Of course, with a few exceptions, this "blame" doesn't translate to out-and-out anti-Americanism or hostility towards actual, real-life Americans. First of all, most French people don't actually know any Americans nor have they been to America. Clearly, their judgement--like ours towards them--is mostly based on stereotypes, snap judgements and that formidable beast, the MEDIA. In all of the time I have spent in France I have felt next to no hostility towards myself for being American (not that I haven't sometimes experienced hostility--it just wasn't for being American. Usually it was for making someone do their job, oh the horror.) Most people, like my students, are pleasantly surprised to find out I'm American. I say surprised because they immediately wonder what I am doing here--what could an American find so fascinating about France? In fact, it is the many ways that France is different from the US that I find fascinating--the many ways that France isn't the US or even a wanabe US (well, at least not in every aspect). I mean sure, they copied us with a revolution a few years after the success of our own, but they made it their own. Each of our respective revolutions defined the future route each nation would take, and though we both (eventually) ended up as democratic republics, there are reasons we sometimes rub each other the wrong way--two very different histories have shaped two very different mentalities. Maybe instead of getting offended, turning to xenphobia or setting up camp inside our own inflated egos, we should just realize that "Americanization" and all of its reprecussions don't please everyone. There are in fact functioning worlds outside our own. Our way is not the only way or even always the best way--universal healthcare hasn't caused Europe (or dare I say Canada) to crumble. Hopefully we'll begin to recognize the importance of our global image before we find ourselves the subjects of the Queen of Fools, Sarah Palin.

Yes, we're important, globablly so. We're a great hulk hovering over everything. We're the number one financial and political power, have the most billionaires, our President is the most powerful person on Earth, people everywhere munch on McDonald's fries and sip Startbucks' coffee. Our movies and television shows spread our language and culture around the globe. We have indeed provided much of the force behind globalization--a word often considered synonomous with Americanization. Ok, that's all great. But, like Peter Parker, we too must remember that "with great power comes great responsibility." And perhaps a nice slice of humble pie.


*C'est à cause des Américains: (negative connotation) It's because of/thanks to/caused by Americans!

The title of this post was also inspired by the favorite quote of my host dad (who, btw, loves Obama, likes America--especially our blues music--and has no problem at all with Americans), who likes to tag it on jokingly as he smiles and nods in my direction. Really though, sometimes it's true and it is both humbling, exasperating (because as an American, I can't help but feel partially responsible), and kind of frightening to realize just how much the domestic affairs of the US can affect the entire world--and what the world thinks of this. Traveling--and especially living--abroad somehow makes you, or at least me, feel both prouder and more ashamed of being an American, depending on the context. At any rate, it most certainly makes you extremely aware of your nationality. Nothing has ever made me feel more American than living in France, for better or worse. So, as the ink from the "Made in America" stamp stubbornly darkens on my forehead, in response to this oft-repeated exclamation, I must reply, defiantely, tant pis, c'est la vie! (too bad, that's life!). Now someone find me an American flag so I can do the pledge of allegiance and sing a little "Oh say can you see." The one flapping in my host family's backyard has seen better days...