Gun control seems to be a very prominent issue this summer. Of course, coming from the Philadelphia area, gun control has always been an issue. But on a more national level, it just seems to get worse. Six years ago I sat in my freshman dorm and awaited my friend to walk across campus to class. The day started off strange. On April 16th, it was snowing in Harrisonburg, Virginia. It wasn't like we were in northern New York where snow was a normal thing to see a majority of the school year. And then a girl started screaming down the hall. A student had started a shooting rampage at Virginia Tech, a mere 2 hours away. When we left for class, the campus police had not yet found him. They knew that Seung-Hui Cho had entered and shot at one class, but there were more deaths to come. Needless to say, our class didn't really go as our professor had planned. She urged us to call our families and friends, knowing that events like this spark fear as fast as wildfires. Many of my classmates had friends attending Virginia Tech and anxiously awaited any news from them. A large portion of the freshman population had chosen JMU over Virginia Tech and the "what if" thoughts began to take an emotional toll on our campus. Presidents of universities and colleges across the nation made efforts to set up emergency contact systems for their students in case of future dilemmas. We received occasional text messages about potential MS 13 gang activity at the local Walmart or parks. But, in essence, text message and email warnings can only do so much for us.
I recently went to the local Regal Cinema to see Batman: Dark Knight Rises. Despite the fact that the Aurora shooting had occurred a week prior, I was still scared shitless to enter a dark room knowing that a group of citizens had done the same and never thought they would make it out alive when the gunshots rang out. Before my family and I entered the long hallway of theaters, a police officer checked our bags. I'm very much used to security after flying about the past two years, but I have never walked into a movie theater expecting to be searched for weapons. The movie only fueled the fire of fear within me as i watched. I just waited for the moment news-reporters described as James Holmes' cue to kill innocent movie-goers. Once it had gone I didn't feel relief. I felt disgust that the most violent movies continue to be the biggest sellers. Thinking back to the previews, I just felt ashamed that millions of dollars are put into these crappy story lines that revolve around guns, gold, and girls. Don't take this the wrong way. I'm not stating that we're the only country that promotes violence in our online videos, television series, and movies. That simply would be a stupid thing to say. But the ever present feeling that it is normal to think that the person next to you may or may not have a handgun tucked into his or her belt freaks me the hell out. Perhaps that is why I feel more scared in my own country than abroad. The fact that guns are legal.
I'm not trying to start a political discussion about our right to arms, our Constitutional values, or our Founding Fathers ideas for our nation. Far from it. I'm merely just explaining how I have changed after living abroad for two years. I'm just a little freaked out about my home country like this guy, (only that I vow not to buy myself a gun).
When I first arrived in France, I knew that I would be teaching in St. Fons, the neighboring town of Vénissieux. From what I had heard, Vénissieux was not a exactly the place to be. Terrorism ties linked back to the neighborhood and there was a huge population of North African immigrants. I went into it as a typical brainwashed naive American would. Seeing women with their hijabs and men in the traditional kaftan on the bus on my way to school shocked me. It's quite unfortunate and embarrassing to admit, but I was nervous. Why? Because for the most part, Americans only tend to glance at the negative aspects of Islam and Muslim dress after 9/11. For a large majority of Americans, if you talk about someone being Muslim, they automatically assume that this person has connections to a terrorist group. It is true that there have been quite a few shootings in France this year as well, most of which were located in or around the Southwestern city of Toulouse. Yet, despite the shock of it all, I didn't get that pang of nervousness and fear as i do every time I read about a new attack back here. I didn't feel that my personal security was at risk like I would have if i had been on American soil during the Trayvon Martin shooting. I didn't walk the streets of Lyon in fear of randomly being shot. Whereas, the one time my GPS decided to take me through Philadelphia to get back home from the Jersey shore, I turned my head at a red light to check for a street sign only to lock eyes with two men as they jumped onto a Septa bus with AK 47s.
In any case, I'm running away from the point I want to make in this post. What I imagined Vénissieux to be going into my first month in France turned out to be far from reality. Sure there were plenty of sad stories which you can go back and read in my 2010-2011 posts to read, but in essence, I never once had one of my students or their parents come up to me and threaten me because of my American nationality or Catholic upbringing. Quite the contraire. When my students would point me out to their parents as I waited for my bus back to Lyon, both parents and children alike would wave and smile as I said "Hello <name>". These children would come to class and tell me about their background. I quickly learned the North African and Middle Eastern flags from the jogging suits and sweatshirts my students sported. Some would go back to Syria, Morocco, Algeria, Turkey, or Tunisia (to name just a few countries) during our long vacations. Others simply vowed that they were 100% French. It was a challenge to understand these children and their understanding of the world. They thought I was a celebrity because I was American. Some friends of mine would always make comments about my wealth (because we all know every American is ridiculously rich). And still others congratulated me for moving to a different country on my own and experiencing a new world alone. And it sure was a different mindset. The racism question went from the traditional American Black vs. White to Arab vs. French. The lifestyle went from ridiculous amounts of consumerism to buying one bags worth of groceries every two or three days because you had to walk what you bought all the way home. Food went from an over processed, greasy, calorie obsessed world to a land of weekly (in some areas daily) open markets with a plethora of non-pasteurized cheeses. A primarily Christian dominate country to a more secular one with a huge Catholic history and an ever growing Islamic presence.
It was a big change, but I changed for the better as a result. I just wish that more Americans would push away the garbage found across all of today's media sources and find out about other cultures, religions, and people for themselves. Had I not traveled to Morocco or Tunisia, I would have never found the appreciation I have today for their people. I more than likely would have gone on thinking that they were "backwards societies" because of their recent political revolutions. Sure there are plenty of Muslim majority countries that have awful historical records, but aren't we also found a bit guilty with our death penalty laws? Tell me just one time you have watched the news without hearing about a money, race, or religion based attack.
I had many interesting, eye opening conversations while in Morocco and Tunisia. For those of you who may or may not have known, I dated a French-Tunisian while in France. One night his cousin, Lilia, said, "I feel stupid asking this, but don't you feel weird having an Arab boyfriend. I mean he's pretty black compared to other Arabs...you're white AND you're American....Doesn't that bother you? Aren't you supposed to be against us Muslims?"
My answer was no. Why should I feel weird? Why should race determine our feelings towards another person? Why should a religion restrict potential friendships? And more importantly, why do we always have to resort to violence to end a disagreement?
I'd like to end with a quotation by Anouar Majid, a Moroccan born American citizen who recently published the book, Islam and America. It goes a little like this:
I highly suggest Majid's book as well as the fictional story, The Good American. Needless to say I've been doing a lot of reading lately. Next up: American nations : a history of the eleven rival regional cultures of North America.
Out and over,
La petite pamplemousse
I recently went to the local Regal Cinema to see Batman: Dark Knight Rises. Despite the fact that the Aurora shooting had occurred a week prior, I was still scared shitless to enter a dark room knowing that a group of citizens had done the same and never thought they would make it out alive when the gunshots rang out. Before my family and I entered the long hallway of theaters, a police officer checked our bags. I'm very much used to security after flying about the past two years, but I have never walked into a movie theater expecting to be searched for weapons. The movie only fueled the fire of fear within me as i watched. I just waited for the moment news-reporters described as James Holmes' cue to kill innocent movie-goers. Once it had gone I didn't feel relief. I felt disgust that the most violent movies continue to be the biggest sellers. Thinking back to the previews, I just felt ashamed that millions of dollars are put into these crappy story lines that revolve around guns, gold, and girls. Don't take this the wrong way. I'm not stating that we're the only country that promotes violence in our online videos, television series, and movies. That simply would be a stupid thing to say. But the ever present feeling that it is normal to think that the person next to you may or may not have a handgun tucked into his or her belt freaks me the hell out. Perhaps that is why I feel more scared in my own country than abroad. The fact that guns are legal.
I'm not trying to start a political discussion about our right to arms, our Constitutional values, or our Founding Fathers ideas for our nation. Far from it. I'm merely just explaining how I have changed after living abroad for two years. I'm just a little freaked out about my home country like this guy, (only that I vow not to buy myself a gun).
When I first arrived in France, I knew that I would be teaching in St. Fons, the neighboring town of Vénissieux. From what I had heard, Vénissieux was not a exactly the place to be. Terrorism ties linked back to the neighborhood and there was a huge population of North African immigrants. I went into it as a typical brainwashed naive American would. Seeing women with their hijabs and men in the traditional kaftan on the bus on my way to school shocked me. It's quite unfortunate and embarrassing to admit, but I was nervous. Why? Because for the most part, Americans only tend to glance at the negative aspects of Islam and Muslim dress after 9/11. For a large majority of Americans, if you talk about someone being Muslim, they automatically assume that this person has connections to a terrorist group. It is true that there have been quite a few shootings in France this year as well, most of which were located in or around the Southwestern city of Toulouse. Yet, despite the shock of it all, I didn't get that pang of nervousness and fear as i do every time I read about a new attack back here. I didn't feel that my personal security was at risk like I would have if i had been on American soil during the Trayvon Martin shooting. I didn't walk the streets of Lyon in fear of randomly being shot. Whereas, the one time my GPS decided to take me through Philadelphia to get back home from the Jersey shore, I turned my head at a red light to check for a street sign only to lock eyes with two men as they jumped onto a Septa bus with AK 47s.
In any case, I'm running away from the point I want to make in this post. What I imagined Vénissieux to be going into my first month in France turned out to be far from reality. Sure there were plenty of sad stories which you can go back and read in my 2010-2011 posts to read, but in essence, I never once had one of my students or their parents come up to me and threaten me because of my American nationality or Catholic upbringing. Quite the contraire. When my students would point me out to their parents as I waited for my bus back to Lyon, both parents and children alike would wave and smile as I said "Hello <name>". These children would come to class and tell me about their background. I quickly learned the North African and Middle Eastern flags from the jogging suits and sweatshirts my students sported. Some would go back to Syria, Morocco, Algeria, Turkey, or Tunisia (to name just a few countries) during our long vacations. Others simply vowed that they were 100% French. It was a challenge to understand these children and their understanding of the world. They thought I was a celebrity because I was American. Some friends of mine would always make comments about my wealth (because we all know every American is ridiculously rich). And still others congratulated me for moving to a different country on my own and experiencing a new world alone. And it sure was a different mindset. The racism question went from the traditional American Black vs. White to Arab vs. French. The lifestyle went from ridiculous amounts of consumerism to buying one bags worth of groceries every two or three days because you had to walk what you bought all the way home. Food went from an over processed, greasy, calorie obsessed world to a land of weekly (in some areas daily) open markets with a plethora of non-pasteurized cheeses. A primarily Christian dominate country to a more secular one with a huge Catholic history and an ever growing Islamic presence.
It was a big change, but I changed for the better as a result. I just wish that more Americans would push away the garbage found across all of today's media sources and find out about other cultures, religions, and people for themselves. Had I not traveled to Morocco or Tunisia, I would have never found the appreciation I have today for their people. I more than likely would have gone on thinking that they were "backwards societies" because of their recent political revolutions. Sure there are plenty of Muslim majority countries that have awful historical records, but aren't we also found a bit guilty with our death penalty laws? Tell me just one time you have watched the news without hearing about a money, race, or religion based attack.
I had many interesting, eye opening conversations while in Morocco and Tunisia. For those of you who may or may not have known, I dated a French-Tunisian while in France. One night his cousin, Lilia, said, "I feel stupid asking this, but don't you feel weird having an Arab boyfriend. I mean he's pretty black compared to other Arabs...you're white AND you're American....Doesn't that bother you? Aren't you supposed to be against us Muslims?"
My answer was no. Why should I feel weird? Why should race determine our feelings towards another person? Why should a religion restrict potential friendships? And more importantly, why do we always have to resort to violence to end a disagreement?
I'd like to end with a quotation by Anouar Majid, a Moroccan born American citizen who recently published the book, Islam and America. It goes a little like this:
The conflicting views of America, both globally and even nationally, are inevitable given the size and history of the country. It is a nation of many trends and backgrounds, where the past exists in tension with the present, prosperity is threatened with collapse, secularism challenged by the ghosts of the Puritan past, and the passion for freedom at home is undermined by the drive for control abroad. The country continues to be an experiment, which is at it should be, since being alive means going through change (82).
I highly suggest Majid's book as well as the fictional story, The Good American. Needless to say I've been doing a lot of reading lately. Next up: American nations : a history of the eleven rival regional cultures of North America.
Out and over,
La petite pamplemousse
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