So, my philosophy class has just finished studying Of the Social Contract, a book in which the author, Rousseau, essentially denounces the whole idea that the monarchy and social hierarchy of 18th century Europe are natural, and destined by God, inherently flawless, etc. and says that society actually has a duty to be, well, functional and reasonable, unless they want their population to freak out and start a revolution (which they have the right to do). Anyway, all this talk about various societal hierarchies and class systems has gotten me thinking about the social hierarchy within a high school, and it's presence in America versus its apparent absence in France.
In general, I love it when people here ask me questions about America- largely because I can show them that all those preconceived ideas and stereotypes of Americans are oversimplified, misleading, or even completely untrue: and all those questions like "Do you eat at McDonald's all the time?" "Do you know any movie stars?" "Do you carry a gun to school?" and of course, "If you're American, how did you learn French? Americans don't speak other languages..."
When I talk to other high school students, though, the question inevitably comes up: "Are American high schools really the way they look on TV?" When people first started asking me this, I tended to laugh it off a bit. No, we don't break out into song and dance between class periods.
Then, I inevitably got the response: "No, not like that. I mean, with the sports kids and the music kids and the kids who study too hard, and the cheerleaders who date the football players, and the popular girls who talk about everyone else, and the weird kids who get picked on, and the shy kids that just try to stay out of everyone's way..." and so on. I always had to hesitate for a moment before answering. Of course that's all exaggerated and blown out of proportion on TV, but, compared to the French, who lack just about all of this... yeah, American high school is kind of like that.
It's so easy to categorize American high school students; it's almost as if they want to be categorized. Who hasn't looked at someone, at least once in their life, and immediately thought "What a nerd/jock/airhead/tramp/druggie/etc." ...In France, it's just not like that. People are weird, basically. They don't fall into categories and they don't really form cliques. Yes, everyone has their circle of friends, but they're much more fluid and much less... at war with each other. Plus, I've often been surprised by who's friends with who here. On top of it all, there's so much more of a sense of community here, and the fact that people go to school together, live near each other, and care about each other just transcends the lines of any would-be cliques. Who would have guessed that the just-so girl at the top of our class is the lifelong friend of the overly-artsy kid with tattoos and dreadlocks? Or that the class clown may have saved the life of the philosophy/classical music lover by getting her into suicide prevention? That a class of twenty entirely different personalities embraced with open arms an exchange student in need of a friend? Maybe I sound like I'm romanticizing it a little here, but I truly think it's a beautiful thing, and really wish American students could take a lesson from the French here.
All that being said, I also talk to my French classmates quite a lot about other aspects of American high school, explaining that those magical foreign things like school sports teams, musical/theatrical productions, student newspaper, and (of course) prom really do exist. Just about all my classmates have expressed an interest in that sort of thing, complaining that in France, school is just school, and that it really should be run more like a community, since (for better or for worse) it's pretty much the center of a teenager's world. And honestly, I agree with them... even though I never really showed a whole lot of interest in that sort of stuff back in the US. Maybe it's a simple case of not appreciating what you have until it's gone, but I feel like it's something more. I (ironically) feel more a part of my French school than I did in my American one. People get along here. It's a pleasure being around these people (nearly) 24/7. They're the sort of people that I'd want to be teammates with, that I'd want to watch perform, that I'd want to spend a night dancing with. Don't get me wrong, I had brilliant friends in America (who I miss terribly!), but I didn't at all see myself as a significant part of the school community. It was as if these events weren't meant for people like me. There was a very distinct line between us and them, that people rarely (if ever) crossed. And looking back, I often regret not trying to cross it. It doesn't seem like such a difficult thing to do.
I feel like American high school needs an attitude change. We have the capability to be really close to the people we live and learn alongside, if we'd just make an effort to reach out to each other and stop hiding in those cliques where we tell ourselves we belong. Of course we don't all have to be best buddies; everyone has people they like and don't like. But it's stupid to think that everyone can only have one type of friend, or that their friends have to look, act, dress, and talk like them. Are we really that shallow? Aren't we better than that?
Thursday, February 27, 2014
Sunday, February 23, 2014
Something Important
I know I might be cheating this blog post a little by not talking about France, and not even using my own words, but this is something that I needed to post- a message that I needed to send- for the sake of the international community that I now know I am a part of, and especially for my Venezuelan friend Lorena. Though she's currently here in France with me, it's still incredibly difficult for her to live day to day life while conscious of the terror that's facing her family, her friends, and her country. I'm not really sure what I want to accomplish with this post; I just want people back in little old New Hampshire (or wherever else you may be reading this) to be aware of what's going on right now, and to realize that we're all connected in one way or another. What affects some of us ultimately affects all of us, and it's wrong to turn a blind eye to things that "don't involve me." Please, just do me a favor and read:
http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/world-latin-america-26309917
http://edition.cnn.com/2014/02/22/world/americas/venezuela-socialism/
http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/world-latin-america-26309917
http://edition.cnn.com/2014/02/22/world/americas/venezuela-socialism/
Saturday, February 8, 2014
Being American in a French School's English Class... Oh my...
Hi everyone. Just thought I'd take a moment to share something that happened the other day in my entertaining, ever-fascinating English-as-a-second-language class (no sarcasm here, I swear! ;-) ).
Our class recently took the French equivalent of midterm exams, and rather than having me do the English exam in French (as I normally do, to practice my second language along with everyone else), the teacher asked me to do the essay section in English, so that she could give it to the class as an example. I agreed, and wrote the assigned essay on the topic "Could you still consider someone your hero, even if you didn't agree with their political opinions or personal life?" I essentially answered yes, backing my argument up with a few simple points about how no one is perfect, even our "heroes," and we could still respect someone's accomplishments without necessarily agreeing with every aspect of their behavior.
About two weeks later, my English teacher had corrected all the exams and was passing them back to the class... all while giving advice on how to write a better argumentary essay on why someone with disagreeable political opinions or personal behaviors couldn't be our hero. That's right. I was the only one in the class of twenty-some who took the other side of the argument. And no, it wasn't because I was a native speaker and I felt capable of taking "the harder side;" it was what I genuinely believed. And, as I asked around, I found that my classmates genuinely believed that they couldn't call someone their hero if there was something they found blatantly disagreeable about that person's private life. For them, the essay prompt had been clearly one-sided, and apparently, my English teacher had intended it to be one-sided as well. She actually pulled me aside at the end of class to say that I hadn't written the essay she'd expected me to write at all. She said she'd still give it to the class as a sample essay, even though the content wasn't really the same as what the other students had written. In the end, she thanked me for doing the assignment in English, and then made a bit off an off-hand comment about how "American" I am, to write an essay that takes the perspective mine did.
...Which brings me to my question: Is that really such an American thing to do? I, like many people in my home country, was raised with the idea that everyone does both good things and bad things, and in the long run, it's not always easy (or possible) to try and sort people into piles of "good people" and "bad people." I mean, a massive portion of our classic American heroes have what could be considered fundamental moral flaws (George Washington owned slaves since age eleven; Christopher Columbus can take a lot of the blame for the earliest Native American exterminations... besides the fact that he hardly "discovered" America; Thomas Jefferson made money smuggling rum into the colonies when it was illegal... the list goes on and on) and while we might personally dislike these "heroes," I truly don't think that changes the fact that they've had a massive impact on history. I really hadn't thought of this perspective as being something uniquely American until I found out that the rest of my class didn't share this opinion... Anyway I found this guy from "Humans of New York" who sums it up nicely:
"I can't stand moral absolutism. You know, there's always that guy who wants to point out that Martin Luther King cheated on his wife-- as if he obviously couldn't have been a great person if he did something like that. Or someone will bring out an inspirational quote, and get you to agree, and then inform you that Hitler said it. As if a good thought couldn't come from Hitler. Moral absolutism keeps us from learning from the past. It's easy to say: 'Hitler was a demon. Nazis were all bad seeds.' That's simple. It's much harder to say: 'Is that humanity? Is that me?'"
-Humans of New York, January 2, 2014
Our class recently took the French equivalent of midterm exams, and rather than having me do the English exam in French (as I normally do, to practice my second language along with everyone else), the teacher asked me to do the essay section in English, so that she could give it to the class as an example. I agreed, and wrote the assigned essay on the topic "Could you still consider someone your hero, even if you didn't agree with their political opinions or personal life?" I essentially answered yes, backing my argument up with a few simple points about how no one is perfect, even our "heroes," and we could still respect someone's accomplishments without necessarily agreeing with every aspect of their behavior.
About two weeks later, my English teacher had corrected all the exams and was passing them back to the class... all while giving advice on how to write a better argumentary essay on why someone with disagreeable political opinions or personal behaviors couldn't be our hero. That's right. I was the only one in the class of twenty-some who took the other side of the argument. And no, it wasn't because I was a native speaker and I felt capable of taking "the harder side;" it was what I genuinely believed. And, as I asked around, I found that my classmates genuinely believed that they couldn't call someone their hero if there was something they found blatantly disagreeable about that person's private life. For them, the essay prompt had been clearly one-sided, and apparently, my English teacher had intended it to be one-sided as well. She actually pulled me aside at the end of class to say that I hadn't written the essay she'd expected me to write at all. She said she'd still give it to the class as a sample essay, even though the content wasn't really the same as what the other students had written. In the end, she thanked me for doing the assignment in English, and then made a bit off an off-hand comment about how "American" I am, to write an essay that takes the perspective mine did.
...Which brings me to my question: Is that really such an American thing to do? I, like many people in my home country, was raised with the idea that everyone does both good things and bad things, and in the long run, it's not always easy (or possible) to try and sort people into piles of "good people" and "bad people." I mean, a massive portion of our classic American heroes have what could be considered fundamental moral flaws (George Washington owned slaves since age eleven; Christopher Columbus can take a lot of the blame for the earliest Native American exterminations... besides the fact that he hardly "discovered" America; Thomas Jefferson made money smuggling rum into the colonies when it was illegal... the list goes on and on) and while we might personally dislike these "heroes," I truly don't think that changes the fact that they've had a massive impact on history. I really hadn't thought of this perspective as being something uniquely American until I found out that the rest of my class didn't share this opinion... Anyway I found this guy from "Humans of New York" who sums it up nicely:
"I can't stand moral absolutism. You know, there's always that guy who wants to point out that Martin Luther King cheated on his wife-- as if he obviously couldn't have been a great person if he did something like that. Or someone will bring out an inspirational quote, and get you to agree, and then inform you that Hitler said it. As if a good thought couldn't come from Hitler. Moral absolutism keeps us from learning from the past. It's easy to say: 'Hitler was a demon. Nazis were all bad seeds.' That's simple. It's much harder to say: 'Is that humanity? Is that me?'"
-Humans of New York, January 2, 2014
Sunday, February 2, 2014
A Festival of "Many Sounds"
... Alternatively titled, "why American pop music really bugs me sometimes."
I enjoy a catchy tune as much as anyone else, and popular American music really does a very good job of delivering that. French teenagers like American music too, and most of them will generally agree with my previous statement. The funny thing is, in France, American music is the stuff that gets blasted out of speakers at parties, the stuff you listen to while working out, the stuff on the radio when you drive to work. But if your go to a concert, and pay, and sit down in a theater with the intention of listening to music... it'll be in French.
My hypothesis for the French's interesting relationship with American music? They like it because they aren't really paying attention to it, and because they don't understand the lyrics.
I have to side with the French on this one, American pop music is great to play in the background at parties, and great to listen to while killing time, but, with a few notable exceptions, popular American music generally consists of a whole lot of the same thing. It's repetitive, unexceptional, and frankly uninteresting a decent portion of the time. I'm not calling it bad music by any means, since I like singing along to catchy refrains as much as the next guy. I'm just saying it's not particularly different, and not particularly meaningful.
My local theater in France has an annual "Festival of Many Sounds" in which young, undiscovered musicians or groups come and perform onstage to help get their name out there. There are generally about four groups per venue, and the music (as the name of the festival suggests) tends to be very diverse, even within one show.
The night that I attended:
Long story short, American pop music tends to be entertaining; French music tends to be meaningful, and often heavier. I personally feel like there's a time and place for each, and see French music as a friendly reminder that there's more out there than those six songs the popular radio station plays on repeat- the point of music is to say something that words alone sometimes can't express, and not to imitate the other pop stars just to make a dollar. I think it's high time American music started living this philosophy.
I enjoy a catchy tune as much as anyone else, and popular American music really does a very good job of delivering that. French teenagers like American music too, and most of them will generally agree with my previous statement. The funny thing is, in France, American music is the stuff that gets blasted out of speakers at parties, the stuff you listen to while working out, the stuff on the radio when you drive to work. But if your go to a concert, and pay, and sit down in a theater with the intention of listening to music... it'll be in French.
My hypothesis for the French's interesting relationship with American music? They like it because they aren't really paying attention to it, and because they don't understand the lyrics.
I have to side with the French on this one, American pop music is great to play in the background at parties, and great to listen to while killing time, but, with a few notable exceptions, popular American music generally consists of a whole lot of the same thing. It's repetitive, unexceptional, and frankly uninteresting a decent portion of the time. I'm not calling it bad music by any means, since I like singing along to catchy refrains as much as the next guy. I'm just saying it's not particularly different, and not particularly meaningful.
My local theater in France has an annual "Festival of Many Sounds" in which young, undiscovered musicians or groups come and perform onstage to help get their name out there. There are generally about four groups per venue, and the music (as the name of the festival suggests) tends to be very diverse, even within one show.
The night that I attended:
- A soloist with a tape recorder on repeat, which allowed her to record herself and (in a weird sort of way) accompany herself through several songs
- A high-energy rap group that involved beat-boxing, a clarinet, and a sousaphone
- Two teenagers with acoustic guitars and angelic voices
- And a hard-rock French screamo band
Long story short, American pop music tends to be entertaining; French music tends to be meaningful, and often heavier. I personally feel like there's a time and place for each, and see French music as a friendly reminder that there's more out there than those six songs the popular radio station plays on repeat- the point of music is to say something that words alone sometimes can't express, and not to imitate the other pop stars just to make a dollar. I think it's high time American music started living this philosophy.
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