That's her!

During my last week of classroom observations, as I walked into the classroom, one of my students yelled, “That’s her! She’s the one from Harvard!” She had brought a friend to meet me. Apparently she has been telling all her friends about the Harvard student in her class, and they are all jealous.

It’s hard to know what kind of effect you have on an environment when you study it, even after an incident like this one. Theoretically, after 7 weeks I start becoming a normal presence in the class, but the Harvard name is hard to get past. As much as it opens doors, I must also be mindful of how it influences my interviewees.

A good researcher must also think about how their subjects affect them in return. I was rejected from a swanky downtown nightspot a few weeks ago for not dressing well enough. It came as a surprise until I took a good look at the others in line. Most of my time is spent in high schools in working class neighborhoods, so jeans and sneakers are all I wear anymore. Not exactly made for clubbing.

As if I cared what nightclubs thought of my clothes.

Sick of croissants

This blog was written over the course of a very long day.

Three months, and I’m ready to leave Paris. I passed by a bakery today, and was somewhat nauseated by the thought of yet another chocolate croissant for breakfast, hungry as I was.

I’m sick of dressing decently for interviews, dog poop on the street, expensive Parmesan cheese, the Parisian cold, sandwiches on a baguette, long paper, using the metro as my office, people being distant, fries with mayonnaise…

I want to wear sweatpants to dinner, dammit.

Ok, I’m just tired. I will probably miss fresh bread, my friends here, my high school students, my teachers, running around every day, cooking for myself, being surrounded by amazing restos.

So I’ll come back and again, and realize that I still can’t take more than 3 months here.

Get off my terrain

I showed up to one of my high schools today, and was introduced to another researcher, there to observe the same class. My first reaction: they’ve come here too.

They, as in the army of researchers and journalists who are interested in the same affirmative action policy that my thesis is on. The ones I try to avoid as I choose my high schools, and I conduct my interviews. One of my interviewees has already talked to three researchers, and she’s tired. “We’re starting to feel like wild animals. I can only hope that your theses will change attitudes about us.”

Of course, I don’t see myself as part of this body. I’m not voyeuristic, I tell myself. I’m not coming in with ridiculous stereotypes about the French banlieue—hell, I live in the banlieue. Yes, I go to these schools alone, without pepper spray and everything. I’m not shocked when these kids say intelligent things.

But aren’t I one of “them,” all the same? I am an outsider, trying to understand the lives of these students and teachers by talking to them and ‘observing them in their natural environment.’ We researchers are carving up the banlieue to study it, so interested in understanding how it works, yet in doing so we are contributing to the stigma.

An inevitable catch-22?

Running around the banlieue

Oops, three weeks have gone by without a blog! Thesis research has really picked up, and I have now visited several schools around Paris who are working with elite university Sciences Po to get more of their students in. This has included interviewing and observing teachers, students, and Sciences Po admissions officers. I love getting to run around all day, talking to different people.

Not so many café sessions on the Champs Elysees, or picnics by the Eiffel Tower, as one might imagine an American’s semester off in Paris. On the contrary, I have been spending most of my time in the Parisian suburbs (yes, where the riots happened), getting to know neighborhoods that tourists and expats never see.

Also, I have stumbled upon a video project for Current TV, and I’m excited to get my feet wet again. Highlights so far: a taste of “reality” TV, and riding a Vespa.

4 weeks left and counting!

Some cities are built in a day

Disney, Disney, Disney. Why are you so ridiculous/impressive/frightening?

In order to open its theme park near Paris, France, the Walt Disney Company signed a contract with the French government that basically boiled down to: You can build a park, but you have to build an entire city around it. And so, in 1992, Disneyland Paris finally opened on 5,000 acres of former beet farms, after much controversy and resistance. I cannot imagine what political maneuvering and business negotiation was needed to make this kind of deal happen.

One of the most interesting developments in this Disney-sponsored new town is France’s only high-end retail outlet center, La Vallée Village. The concept is similar to outlet malls in the US, where you can get name brands at a cheaper cost by buying their overstock, only the chic version. You see high-end brands like Christian Lacroix that don’t usually have outlets, and the stores still offer the boutique experience, as if it were a full-priced store. Think classy clothing displays, small shop sizes, and the same team of employees as the full-priced stores.

Whether a high-end outlet like La Vallée changes the demographics of its neighborhood is yet to be seen. The area itself is not great, but people from posh neighborhoods are driving in to shop there, as well as people who might not otherwise afford these brands. La Vallée is also situated next to a traditional mall, which features the usual mall brands like H&M, though the two centers appeal to very different markets and don’t seem to compete.

It’s the lighter side of urban development.

Rest in peace, Peter

A Harvard junior collapsed from a cardiac arrest today after the River Run, a beloved annual Harvard tradition. It’s been quite a shock for everyone that a healthy, cheerful 20-year-old could die so suddenly. I wish it did not take moments like these to remind us how precious our time is with our loved ones.

Thoughts and prayers to his family and friends.

Un petit intellectual existential crisis

One thing that frustrates me about the senior thesis is that it doesn’t necessarily “do” anything. I am asking people for their time, to enter into their lives, but at the end of day, the findings don’t go anywhere. They sit on my laptop, and, if I do really well on my thesis, in Harvard’s archives.

It feels like almost-real-but-actually-practice research that helps only me, personally, with no reciprocity. The usual benefit that subjects get out of an interview is the chance to reflect on personal experiences, but I’m talking to people who have already been interviewed by researchers and/or journalists, sometimes numerous times.

One could argue a long-term reciprocity if this influences me personally, and down the line affects what I do in the world. Or that in speaking to so many people about my thesis, even if the written work itself is not public, I am spreading knowledge about the issue. Something like that.

But I think, as usual, I am taking myself too seriously. My methodology book, Recit de vie, says this: “You aren’t stealing or exploiting anyone’s stories; you’re just talking to them.” And if your interview subjects are happy to do it, and you’re happy to listen, then the most important criteria have been met.

What's your thesis on again?

The short version: I am interested in affirmative action in elite universities in France, and how it’s working out over here. After some interviews, I will write a 100-page paper about it.

The long version: It is very difficult to break into the French elite. If you look at French politicians, professors, CEOs, etc., the vast majority of them come from the same few universities. Go back even further, and many of them even went to the same high schools. There are numerous explanations for this, that Americans are not unfamiliar with: schools in different neighborhoods differ in quality of education and resources, well-educated parents are more informed about college admissions, the elite university admissions system is incredibly competitive, and students from some backgrounds may see elite schools as “not for them.”

Eventually, this was seen as a problem. In 2001, Sciences Po, one of the top French universities, started working with high schools in disadvantaged areas classified as “priority education zones” (acronym ZEP). Rather than the usual written entrance exam, students from these schools go through oral exams in front of a panel of judges. It is not supposed to be easier or harder, just different.

During my three months here, I am talking to Sciences Po students admitted via this policy, teachers in ZEP schools, and administrators who are involved, to find out more about how the policy plays out in practice. How does one define the success of such a policy? What are the social consequences of being admitted through a special process? And other difficult questions…

Anecdote: The French pace of (administrative) life

In searching for a place to live in Paris this year, I considered living in a foyer, which is more or less a dorm that is not university-affiliated. I find my interactions with them very typical of the infamous administrative delays in France.

June: Apply to the foyer.

early July: Letter from the foyer—“Sorry, we don’t accept students working with Sciences Po.” (Too elite of a university.)

mid July: I send a panicked email to friends in Paris, asking about apartments.

late July: Letter from the foyer—“A room has been reserved. Here is your receipt for 411E.”

August: I now have two places. The foyer says they can reimburse my deposit, so I take the apartment.

September: I send an email saying, “Hey, I’m in Paris, when can I pick up my check?”

October: After several calls and emails, I finally get someone on the phone at the foyer to ask about my reimbursement.

They will theoretically call me back soon.

Un petit pity party

Sometimes I wonder if I’m not just making things more difficult for myself by coming to France. Doing research in a foreign country and in a foreign language is daunting for several reasons. As a sociologist, I need to be aware of what my interviewees are telling me and not telling me; what backgrounds they are coming from; and I need to connect with them. While there are pros to being an outsider, there are also a number of challenges.

Working in a foreign language is also time-consuming, because it takes me twice as long to read in French, and at least three times as long to transcribe an interview in French. And the thing about being fluent in a language is…nobody cares. If my French passes, people just treat me as French. No pat on the back. No high five. Even worse, they don’t do hugs.

But at the end of the day, it’s pretty badass that I have a research grant to come to Paris, friends and family who are understanding about my taking a semester off, and I have friends from last year who are willing to help me out. So I can’t really complain.

60 Million Votes for Obama

With no major elections happening in France this year, the French have turned their attention to our presidential elections. And if the French could vote in the American election, there is no question that Obama would win. 80% of the French people prefer Obama, according to an international BBC poll and a TNS-Sofres Institute survey. Based on my interactions, it seems more like 100%.

One straightforward reason the French like Obama is that his issue stances are more closely aligned with the socialist French. One French student explained to me that McCain seems extremist in his views, Palin even more so. In a country where most children are born out of wedlock and where religious symbols are not allowed in school, the values of American conservatives can be shocking.

However, one must also wonder if Obama’s race a factor in the French people’s preference. They like that he is métisse, they like that a black man can be such a successful politician…abroad.

The thing about race in France is, it remains a taboo subject—you might offend someone even by saying race—but it’s ok to talk about race relations in other countries, especially the United States. They think we are obsessed with race, that we cannot construe any social issue without taking race into account. (Not far from the truth, of course.) So when it comes to Obama, the French are ready to pride us on our diversity, ready to congratulate us on getting past our long history of racism, but not ready to ask themselves why they could never have a black president in the near future.

For the time being, Obama’s candidacy allows them to continue ignoring such problems by focusing on American race relations. Or maybe “Obama” is simply easier to pronounce in French.

Day One, Paris

11:00 Wake up and realize I just slept 12 hours. My roommate is surprised to find out I was in my room the whole time (I told her I’d probably wake up at 8am).

12:00 Look for the nearby supermarket, starting in the opposite direction I was supposed to go. Yeahhh…

1:00 Supermarket shopping

1:30 Cook lunch at the apartment. Eat lunch while reading our recently delivered yellow pages. Highlight: There are go-karts in Paris!

2:30 Go on internet.

4:00 Subwayyyyy and general wandering until my meeting

5:00 Meet with the professor I will be working with for my thesis, feel comforted (and therefore complacent :O) about where I am in the process.

5:30 Buy pens, consider making my own furniture out of wooden planks

7:00 Paris Zen Center

8:30 Back to the apartment, frowning at men who catcall in the street. I will probably be doing this continuously for the next three months until I come up with a better response.

9:30 Internet, figure out plans for the week

French word of the day: overbooké. Guess what it means.

In Love with Palin

Ok, not really. But I am quite fascinated with the Republican VP candidate. I left Shanghai on August 30 and came back to 100 new emails, all about the unknown Governor from Alaska. Since Sarah Palin was introduced a few days ago, everyone has been talking about her. Is she ready to lead, only “a heartbeat away” from the Presidency? Is her son really her son? Is Alaska’s proximity to Russia really relevant?

I’ve heard all the reasons people are cynical. Most importantly, she has been Governor for less than two years and has no foreign policy experience when McCain’s main attack on Obama has been his lack of experience. But I still think she’s being underestimated.

She proved herself in her RNC speech. One thing that struck me was her critique of Obama describing working class Americans as “clinging bitterly” to their religion and guns. So many times, I have heard Democrats complain that Bush won because most Americans are idiots, that "value voters" are uninformed or don’t care about the important political issues. It is an attitude I wish Democrats could keep in check, to disprove Republican accusations of elitism.

Of course, Palin made problematic comments too. A low point, for most of us, was her mockery of community organizing. It was not only insulting of community service, it wasn’t the smartest political choice. She didn't need to stoop that low to diss Obama. She should have criticized the concept of "community organizing" as a liberal buzz word that doesn’t mean anything but the local politics she’s been involved with her entire life, PTA and all. But nobody asked me. (By the way, Obama’s response was pretty badass.)

Here’s another thought on her selection: Palin was selected not because she is like Hillary Clinton, as many are assuming, but because she is like Obama. Somebody else noticed it too. They have reputations as young, up-and-coming politicians who challenge the political status quo. (Whether or not that's actually true is, unfortunately, not the point.) McCain and Biden get to share their extensive foreign policy experience and white hair.

Lastly, I have been baffled by the way her issue stances are used to argue that she is an unwise VP choice. Of course Democrats don’t agree with her; she was chosen for her conservative values. I am more interested in her character as a politician, and I suspect she’ll be able to hold her own.

Call me conservative

Growing up in Massachusetts has made me somewhat of a liberal by default, but I’ve recently started putting pressure on a number of my views. I have realized I am actually rather conservative on two issues: abstinence and abortion. That is, I support abstinence as a personal choice, and I believe that abortion is not the right solution in most cases, though I believe it should be legal.

Rather than get into the details of my stances, I am more curious why these two issues in particular stand out. Sexual promiscuity and pro-choice stances are usually associated with a set of “liberal” values. Maybe the link, for me, is family. My particular brand of social conservatism idealizes mature, long-term, monogamous relationships. In my head, the logical link is made to the value of waiting for physical intimacy and embracing unplanned pregnancies. Perhaps these two issues are especially personal. After all, they involve one of the most taboo subjects in American society: sex.

The only reason I remain on the left side of things is my belief that it is not my place to enforce a certain lifestyle. If someone sleeps around in self-destructive ways, or casually uses abortion like birth control, it is not my place to legally stop them, even as I find such behavior morally wrong. We are more comfortable regulating other morals: do not kill, do not drive recklessly, do not commit suicide, etc…So being pro-choice does not mean I support abortion, or that I trust women’s ability to decide what is best. It is only a stance on governmental intervention.

While this is not out of line with the true meaning of liberalism, self-proclaimed liberals today often force their views onto others, as they criticize right-wingers for their moralizing. What side does that put me on? Guess that just makes me a socially conservative Foucaultian feminist.

You figure it out.

Vignette: An Olympic gaffe

Matt Emmons received a lot of attention last week for giving up a gold medal. All he needed was a 6.5 (out of 10+) to win [shooting], and his shot didn’t even make the bullseye board. A national sigh, especially given a similar incident in 2004, when he got so excited about a seemingly guaranteed gold medal that he hit someone else's target.

My dad's reaction: If he were a Chinese athlete, he'd be cleaning bathrooms for at least two years for a mistake like that.
Friend: Two years? He'd never compete again! Everyone in China would be after him, and out of 1.2 billion people, you only need one to succeed.

In China, athletes represent their country to a degree that Americans do not. They are trained from a young age to compete as professional athletes, all on the government’s tab. While state-funded athletes may not have to give up their sport for lack of money, this kind of system places immense pressure on athletes. In China, each individual success or failure becomes a national one. Americans are more individualistic in watching the Olympics: we are certainly proud of our country, but it is not tied to athletes in the same way. No bathroom-cleaning…

PS My brother’s summary of the Olympics Closing Ceremony: bike helmets + spandex suits with neon lights.

Musing: The myth about value voters

"Value voters" is a term that has grown popular among both liberals and conservatives, but it doesn't make sense to me. How can we imply that some people vote according to their values and others do not? Aren't we all value voters?

Behind any public policy is (hopefully) a set of principles--dare I say values--that make it a relevant and important policy. Whether health care or train track width regulations, we do what we believe to be right. We can vote for candidates who support policies that we do--and therefore probably hold the same values--or we can vote for candidates who speak to the values that we hold dear. It does not seem like a big difference to me. Furthermore, who's to say our values are that different? Talk of "family values" is most ridiculous, because it implies that some politicians do not believe in healthy, happy families. While I know Democrats can have a penchant for eating babies, it is more our definition of the ideal family that varies. (Democrats are slowly catching on to this.)

Despite the lack of meaning behind the term "value voter," both ends of the political spectrum have embraced the term for rhetorical purposes. Conservatives can claim the moral high ground as liberals shy away from talk of morals and paint "value voters" as irrational, uneducated people. But buzz words getting in the way of real conversation is nothing new.

Proud to be a value voter.

Vignette: Online Friends

With one month left before I leave for Paris, I need to buckle down and review some French. Toward this end, I tried to find French expats here in Shanghai--there are surprisingly many, 6000 according to the French consulate. So through websites and Facebook, I emailed several people about a possible language exchange or conversation in French.

I have to say, it felt pretty sketchy to introduce myself to complete strangers and ask them if they wanted to hang out...But really, it's quite harmless to use the Internet to find friends in a city where I have none, and increasingly common. It also works--I've found a couple of very friendly people. As the Internet becomes more widely used, and I grow too old for the type of creep you hear about in the news, it seems to have become quite safe! (With certain precautions, of course.)

2008 Olympics, from inside China

Everyone is watching the Olympics here in Shanghai, with coverage on numerous channels, it’s hard not to get caught up in it. The games have been overwhelmingly positive for China, as a country and as a people. The opening ceremonies were beautiful, leaders of participating countries have attended, logistics seem to be going smoothly, and the facilities look spotless. Despite negative coverage of the Olympics from abroad, I don't doubt this event will be considered a success.

It reminds me of the 2004 DNC in Boston, which was criticized for various reasons literally up until the day it happened (problems with funding, political disagreements between Menino and Kerry, traffic inconveniences, etc.). The convention is now considered an overwhelming success, and has changed Boston's status in the US for the better.

Of course, all the political turmoil we hear about in the news nevertheless exists, and I wouldn’t say that international relations have improved as a result of the games. But I suppose the Olympic spirit (and propaganda??) has finally gotten to me, and, I realize, we still can and should appreciate the Olympics for the good that they bring.

Summer Wrap-Up, 2008

Take-home point of the summer: The problem with politics is…the politics.

On one hand, politics refers to what goes on in our political system: elected officials, public policies, the various parties that affect change in this country.

On the other hand, it also refers to the power struggles between people with conflicting (or even similar) interests. A doesn’t like B, so they can’t work together on a project. C and D have history, so they can work together to bring in E. F just doesn’t like email.

The second kind of politics is present in any situation where people are working together, i.e. any office. But does politics (definition 1) attract people who are particularly interested in creating politics (definition 2)? There are certainly many who see it as an exciting game of manipulation and strategy, to the point where progress becomes almost impossible. But then I’m beating a dead horse.

Fortunately, local politics seems to run more efficiently than the national level, at least in Boston. Working in DC last summer was exciting and frustrating at the same time: while I was comforted that there are many good people working on Capitol Hill, it operates like its own world. News travels differently, everyone is watching C-SPAN all day to follow the latest speech or motion, people in politics see the same people every day to talk politics until you run out of breath…while local politics may be more humble in what you accomplish, you have the potential to accomplish a lot more. (Except that there are still plenty of politics--definition 2.)

All in all, it was another great summer, and I can’t wait to share the results of some of my main New Media projects: a video about Boston’s capital projects and an upcoming YouTube video contest for high school students in Boston. Maybe I’ve found my niche!

Musing: A Southern fetish?

I think I have a Southern fetish. The evidence:

1. Southern food (fried chicken, biscuits with honey, etc.)
2. Line dancing
3. “y’all”
4. Considering living in the South (Atlanta?)
5. Social conservatism

Much of this resulted from getting in touch with my Midwestern roots again. Though I’ve been in the Boston area for 8 years, my formative years in the Midwest shaped me more than I realized until recently. “Hidden” conservative values started surfacing: I didn’t realize 25 seemed like a young age to get married to many, and I respect this nation’s tenuous division of church and state. A re-evaluation of my values has left me wondering where my “roots” are.

This kind of re-evaluation seems to have translated into a Southern fetish, though I have never really been to the South. (Two years in Kentucky doesn’t really count.) Now, I did legitimately grew up on Southern food, and my love for line dancing could stem from either square dancing in gym class or dancing in Footloose. So maybe it’s no fetish; I’m just not as loyal to New England and Massachusetts liberal ideas as I used to be.

Testing

This video for testing purposes only. It will be removed within a day.

My troubled relationship with Paris

I’ve finally figured out why I want to go back to Paris: I’m a masochist.

Nowhere else I’ve been to in my life has offered the constant ego-beating, frustration, incompetence, awkwardness, and failure that Paris has. I guess Boston is too comfortable, where I am surrounded by friends and where I’ve learned how to carve out a little piece of happiness. Oh, yeah—it’s also where I can work and socialize in my native language.

In some ways, this is my version of “slumming it.” Obviously, it’s in a mythical city, where the exchange rate makes me cry a little inside, but I am nonetheless purposefully placing myself in a situation where I am disadvantaged…just for the experience. Or something like that.

What other explanation is there, besides masochism? “Learning.” “Escaping the Harvard bubble.” “Taking exciting risks.” “Thesis research.”

…aka masochism.

At least I’m being honest with myself about it?

Am I socially awkward?

Am I socially awkward?

Somebody, please clear this up for me, once and for all. I’ve been obsessed with evaluating my social skills lately, because I have a sneaking suspicion that I am not an exception to the “All Harvard students are socially awkward” rule after all.

It was a sad, sad realization. I thought I was pretty well-adjusted, a generally friendly person. Sure, I read social theory for fun, but I like to think that only makes me more interested in people. But I show up at work in City Hall and face awkward moment after awkward moment. Laughing off comments I don’t know how to respond to, forcing coworkers to make small talk with me…it leaves me wondering, Is it me?

According to a recent American Scholar article by William Deresiewicz, this awkwardness comes with an Ivy League education. But the article exaggerates the elitism of the Ivy League, without pointing out the flaws that it so aptly demonstrates: self-righteousness, generalizations based on iffy facts, the inability to accept ineptitude, and the tendency to make a personal realization into a pressing, general issue.

The last point is particularly interesting: Deresiewicz clearly held a number of elitist views: one should feel sorry for people who don’t go to prestigious schools, state school students are “trained for positions somewhere in the middle of the class system,” SAT scores define intelligence, and Ivy League graduates are generally rich. (It’s their responsibility to make gazillions, duh.) Somehow, those all get blamed on the Ivy League. Really? Really, you just listed a number of problematic beliefs claiming that ‘my school taught me so’?

It is no question that elite institutions can be, well, elitist. But, at least in my experience, it has been nowhere near the extent to which Deresiewicz describes. Nobody likes to bash elite schools more than the students who attend them, and if he has taught at one for 10 years, maybe he’s just sick of it. If he went to teach at another school for 10 years, could he say that it were better? They may be just as ‘conformist’; the excessive college preparations are a generational problem, not an Ivy League problem.

At the end of the day, this author didn’t explain more than 10% of my social awkwardness. And he didn’t explain away his elitism—you don’t enter college realizing that the SATs are a decent way to nationally compare knowledge of certain subjects, and come out looking down on anyone scoring less than 700 per section. (Ivy Leaguers don’t even ask about SAT scores after freshman year, we pull out our transcripts to compare at our 2am study break. If you didn’t know that, you clearly didn’t go to one of the better Ivies.)

So why do I have awkward moments? Partly, because I’m human. Partly, because living on a college campus can quickly become a bubble, Ivy League or not, and getting out takes readjustment. And really, because I am overanalyzing, which is ironically what will create socially awkward moments in the first place.

Tolerance of Intolerance

I have recently realized how intolerant I can be of people who do not believe that viewpoints other than their own could be valid. Maybe I shouldn’t be shocked at assertions like, “No self-respecting Muslim woman would ever wear a head scarf,” or “Feminists say they’re strong, but, at the end of the day, they still wouldn’t mind being dominated,” but they still leave me in a state of disbelief.

What concerns me is the tendency of disbelief to become dismissal. “Oh well, what can you do? Some people just don’t get it. Let’s avoid the topic from now on.” If I go into a conversation thinking someone is, to put it bluntly, crazy, then I am doing everyone a disservice.

If I claim to be a tolerant person, who is open to all viewpoints, it would be hypocritical of me to write off what I consider to be intolerant ideas. Democracy relies on a plurality of political views. Conflict, in this sense, is a fundamental part of what makes democracy work. Believing in democracy as well as diversity means accepting—and valuing—the existence of viewpoints that are different from my own. Even the crazy ones.

I am reminded of Daryl Davis, author of Klan-Destine Relationships: A Black Man's Odyssey in the Ku Klux Klan. He first met Klan members through his music, and through getting to know them, now has a dozen Klan robes hanging in his closet, from members who left the Klan. But Davis never met with Klan members to try and promote tolerance: “My goal was not to convert anybody at all, because if they want to be in the Klan that's their business…But what I learned was that while you are actively learning about somebody else, you are passively teaching them about yourself.”

Davis’ story is not to say we should pretend to be tolerant of people only to convert them, but rather that we should engage with those who disagree with us, and let them form their own opinion. And if we still have different views at the end of the day, then I can still appreciate the democracy that is strengthened by the existence of our differences.

Communautarisme, or "Self-Segregation"

Many French have fear of communautarisme, a philosophy based on a view of society as separate communities, be they racial, ethnic, by gender, or another category. (The word “communitarian” exists in English, but it's not connected to identity politics in the same way.) Recognizing any differences between citizens undermines national unity, so there is always resistance to the explicit classification of people.

The US exemplifies this fear, with our tradition of voluntary association, one of Alexis de Tocqueville’s major observations. Philosopher Elisabeth Badinter evoked this classic image of the US in 1999 in warning against gender parity laws, saying that, “Arguing about numbers will inevitably lead to parity claims by other communities, be they racial, religious, cultural, or sexual…In the United States, this war has already begun in all aspects of civil society” (translated).

My experience is as communautariste as you get. I was a member of the Coalition for Asian Pacific American Youth in high school, on the board of the Boston Asian Students Intercollegiate Conference for three years, led a workshop at the National Asian American Student Conference in 2006, was Educational/Political Chair of the Harvard-Radcliffe Asian American Association, and was President of the Boston Asian Students Alliance. I've attended numerous Asian American conferences, including the ones I was involved with.

This is a very focused direction that I started in high school, and sometimes I feel like I've left it behind. Am I past it all? Did I do all the Asian American things I could do, and now I'm done? I'm not a board member of any Asian American organization anymore, and Asian American conferences don't interest me the way they used to.

It may be that my interests have changed, or it may be the rhetoric. Panels are about the same issues, time and time again: breaking the glass ceiling, how to lead, affirmative action and Asian Americans, struggling with identity, the threat of gentrification, what does “Asian American” even mean? Sure, it means that these questions persist. But I can't help feeling that they should be talked about in new ways. For example, the affirmative action debate is not just over the effects of affirmative action on Asian Americans, but who is affected by these programs, how such programs should run, why we do or don’t want these programs, and if tradeoffs are worth it. Are people coming to events to learn facts, or hang out with other people of Asian descent, or are we trying to build a movement?

It’s not up to me to decide what kind of movement we’re building. Politically speaking, Asian Americans are a notoriously disorganized population. There is no clear voting pattern, huge ethnic diversity, and the largest income gap of any racial group in the US. I've always been more interested in multiracial coalition building, which would mean looking at where borders of racial communities are drawn and how they are negotiated.

No matter what questions we look at, if they are not the more substantive questions, then we’re not doing anything but talking, and communautarisme becomes the divisive force the French fear it to be.

A version of this blog will be performed on April 19th.

The mysticism surrounding l'etranger

I've been engaged in numerous discussions recently about French people, what France is like, how Paris was, what Europe is like, etc. ad nauseum. A friend of mine told me that France holds this kind of mystical quality now after having talked to several people about it, because it seems like such an interesting place to go live. But it becomes dangerous to make too many generalizations, because, really, it's just Harvard that has issues, and non-Harvard places that seem to have so many less.

An obvious example is work load: exists at Harvard, less when you're visiting at an educational institution that is not your own and impress people just by using the subjunctive. i.e. French students study a lot, I just…didn't. And there is work to be done in France (gasp), I just had less projects since all of my involvements are at Harvard.

More complicated examples involve differences that are somewhat based in culture, such as small talk. In my last blog, I talked about the culture shock of coming back to many quick, shallow hellos. “How was France? Good? Great! Gotta run!” While Americans are known for this variety of friend-making, it does exist in France too, I just didn’t notice because I had so few French acquaintances.

It is also related to a pace of life that is particular to Harvard. (Why is 300+ student organizations something to brag about? It means students are ridiculously busy, not getting much sleep, and not collaborating with each other enough.) Harvard is a particular place. One day I counted four potential free meals at different events throughout the day, which happen at a break-neck speed and are funded by Harvard's endowment. It always surprises others to find out that our parties are funded too.

There is a culture here that has nothing to do with America vs. the exotic land that is France. We are surrounded by impressive people (how you get in with a now-6% admissions rate) doing amazing things—starting companies, working for/with powerful world actors, having access to incredible opportunities. To encourage this culture, Harvard’s pedagogical philosophy is to not hold our hand so that we will be independent. Add in the insular nature of the college campus, and Harvard becomes a potentially explosive pressure cooker. We lose sight of what really matters and start to think that every little thing happening on campus is part of an all-important career path that, at the end of the day, we're not even sure of. We don't realize how incredibly young we still are: at a career panel last month, I met a freshman who was frustrated with internship opportunities looking for sophomores and juniors, and I remember thinking that I used to be that impatient freshman as well.

In short, France has overachievers too, I just wasn't constantly surrounded by them.

This doesn't mean that Paris isn't a particularly great place to go to get away from Harvard. There's a lot to be said there, so don't let me dispel the mysticism completely. At the end of the day, I take the pros with me, so I remember that there can be another way, and remember that maybe the pros have more to do with taking a break from the Harvard bubble than anything special about France/Paris/French people/French food.

No offense.

The Reflection Blog, part 2

So, I have been back for (more than) a week now, and thoughts are starting to form in my head about what I learned in Paris. This time, I have a real list.

1. Don’t feel (as) guilty for not doing anything. Last year, I would always get an itch when an event went too long, or hanging out for a couple hours turned into an entire afternoon. “I need to be doing something! Must…leave…” I could vacation, but it would have to have a planned ending. Is this a Harvard thing? In any case, so far this instinct has not attacked despite my ridiculous list of tasks already piling up in the first week. And I think I eat more slowly than before.

2. I just thought of something, but I forgot. Dammit.

3. I am more stylish? So says most people upon seeing me for the first time post-Paris. I also suspect that they already expect me to be/seem more European after five months there, so I will not go ahead and conclude that I am more stylish now.

4. Most Americans are not that stereotypical. Let me first explain the stereotype: wealthy young American woman partying it up in bobo clubs on the Champs Elysees every night, speaking loudly in the metro, having a romantic fling with a French man (or two) named Pierre. Throw in some cigarettes and a bottle of champagne too. While I met several who seemed to fit the stereotype, they were kind people who weren’t actually engaging in this kind of behavior every single night. Maybe regularly, but not 24/7. In addition, I realized that the nature of stereotypical Franco-American relationships and the American bubble has largely to do with real language barriers that prevent serious connections from being made between French and Americans. (Not to excuse a lack of effort.)

5. Speaking of stereotypes, I need to stop making them every 5.678 minutes. Everything was either “because I’m American” or “because this is France.” For example, being shocked that gigantic supermarkets exist in France. Or associating supermarkets in general, or really just anything big, with being American. Every interaction fed into this habit of generalizing, and it can be a difficult habit to kick.

2. How to be incompetent. No wonder I forgot it, I must have repressed it from my memory as soon as I realized. And it’s not really a lesson I learned, just something I had to constantly experience: me, usually more or less on top of my stuff, having long periods of time where I just had no clue what was going on. (It was felt most acutely because it was not by choice, but because of linguistic/cultural barriers.) It’s not a lesson I can swallow, that sometimes you just can’t keep up. Nope, I don’t believe it. I have been humbled, but I refuse to accept this…and maybe that’s a good thing. Or just useless pig-headedness. Probably both.

6. My Midwestern accent is back in full force. Being away from an Anglophone context and speaking less English in general returned me to my “true” accent. I even started saying “pop” again. (In the context of searching for Pepsi, of course.) Let’s see how long it lasts back in Boston…

7. Americans have more friends in quantity, but not necessarily quality. Case in point: small talk. I have been asked by so many people, “How was France?” but it’s such a gigantic question to answer that my response is more or less “good,” and that’s all they expect me to say before running off to their next class or meeting. Of course there are pros and cons to this kind of lifestyle…it just stands in such contrast to the time people could take out for each other if they were less busy. See point 1.

Anything life-changing? Still not really. Ask me in a another week? Apparently I just keep becoming more observant as time goes on.

The Reflection Blog

(Written on a plane. Just to be a little cliche.)

It’s usually expected that people do a little reflection at the end of a life stage. ‘Look at what I did, everything I learned, this is really Susan 2.0, whoo hoo Paris.’ So here is an organized list of lessons I learned during my semester abroad in Paris:

1. no clue

2. nope, still don’t know yet.

3. I tried, really.

…

Ask me in a week. Or a month. A year, two years from now. Maybe then I’ll have a more thought-out account of what I’ve done for the last few months.

Even then, I’m not sure any dramatic life changes happened while I was in Paris. It’s a little the opposite. For me, being in a new context means I am spending most of my time on things otherwise taken for granted: grocery shopping, choosing classes (and then crossing my fingers that I can actually get credit for them), trying to understand everything that’s going on. so I would consider myself having done much less than usual in terms of work, organizing things, keeping up with the news, keeping in touch with people…

But then, that was kind of the point—studying abroad was a break from the break-neck pace of my life. Little did I know I’d be so occupied with all the little daily things in a new country (quotidien, one might say), e.g. not getting a headache after hearing and speaking French all day. So I suppose I still kept plenty busy. (Sigh.)

Going back to the other kind of busy may prove to be very difficult. I’ve been removed from the Harvard/American context for five months now, and I’m not sure I’m ready to jump back into the thick of things. Or maybe I’ll be more ready than ever to pick up my old rhythm. Like I said, ask me in a week.

Word.