Monsieur le Président, reigning theologian?

Yesterday, Nicolas Sarkozy made the first presidential appearance before the French Parliament since the 1800s. Among his topics of choice? The need to ban the burqa in the Fifth Republic.

According to the New York Times, the crowd applauded enthusiastically, but Sarkozy is already being slammed by the French press and many of his constituents. LeMonde.fr posted reactions from its readers yesterday under the (translated) title "In France, liberty for all, except the Muslims!" June 19th's edition featured an opinion piece by Eric Kaminski on the overall topic that's well worth the read if your French is up to it.

As much of a feminist as I am, I'm solidly with LeMonde's readers (and it seems to me, their editorial staff) on this one: whether or not a woman wears a burqa, a niqab, a hijab, a baseball cap, a scarf or no covering at all when she's out buying groceries or having coffee with friends is not the business of the French government.

Here's some food for thought, M. le Président: what does it matter what a woman chooses to wear on the streets of Paris, Toulouse, Marseille or Rennes when there are still places in your country where a woman who wears a skirt - no matter the length - is considered by the local population to be "inviting" rape? What does it matter that some women choose to adhere to the more austere traditions of their faith when women are still burned alive by men who feel they've been "humiliated," like Sohane Benziane, 17 years old when she was killed in 2002, who was sprayed with gasoline and tossed in the trash?

Yes, countless injustices have been committed against women in the name of Islam. Yes, some women in Muslim countries are forced into wearing the burqa by male relatives - thank you, M. Sarkozy, for apparently reading A Thousand Splendid Suns. Yes, the idea that anyone thinks women must cover themselves completely from public view to ensure that only their husbands can admire their beauty is appallingly sexist and frustratingly outdated.

But, M. le Président, you have far more serious issues to address first if you're going to start on a feminist agenda, added to which it's not really a feminist issue (for you, at least) and it's none of your business.

Any type of religious garb is already banned for teachers and students in public schools, as well as for all on-the-job government employees in France, and I have no problem with that because it meshes with the French version of secularism. However, given the way he argued his case, Sarkozy's statement that "the burqa is not welcome in the territory of the French Republic" is a foot-in-mouth moment that rivals, in my mind, his "slip" with "racaille" ("scum") during the 2005 riots.

Sarkozy presented the issue as a feminist one, saying that his desire to ban the burqa is not religious. Given the tensions that already exist between the (primarily Muslim) immigrant population in France and the "native French," he either didn't think that through or - more likely, in my opinion - I'm calling a big, fat B.S. on that statement. Because, guess what? Most French citizens and residents who wear traditional Islamic garb choose to do so. (Curious? Check out the reaction from LeMonde.fr's readers - same link as "reactions from its readers" above and in French. Sorry!) Added to which, if you're going to object to Islamic garb from a feminist perspective, what about the fact that Orthodox Judaism requires married women to cover their hair? It's the same basic principle - why is Sarkozy only objecting to Islam's rendition?

Personally, I find the idea of wearing even a hijab sexist and insulting, but I'm not Muslim and it's not up to me. President Sarkozy seems to find the idea of a niqab or burqa insulting (but not a hijab, Mr. "This-is-a-question-of-feminism?"), but outside public institutions, it's not up to him.

At least, it shouldn't be. Forcing people to disavow their beliefs hasn't done France any good in the past (Revocation of the Edict of Nantes, anyone? Shortly after that is when my ancestors hopped a boat for the New World and is why they ended up fighting alongside the colonials in the Revolutionary War.) and is in fact part of the admittedly-complicated rationale behind their strict secularism.

The French government should absolutely take steps to ensure the safety and freedom of anyone on its soil who is being intimidated and oppressed - by spouses, parents, siblings or anyone else. But that's a separate and much broader issue that in this instance has little to do with either feminism or the right to wear religious garb and much more to do with the messy immigration-racism-religion triangle of tensions that Sarkozy seems to want to circumnavigate.

If I were living in France, M. le Président, I'd ask you to quit grandstanding in an attempt to avoid the real issues and do your job.

Memo to the D.C. Newbie

The D.C. Newbie might become aware of an air of hostility tainting his first experience with the District. It isn't personal, Newbie - logically, those of us who live and work here realize that you couldn't possibly be aware of this city's numerous quirks immediately upon your arrival. It's just that there are so many of you, and a very large minority of your cohorts seem to toss common sense to the wind once inside the Beltway, and it gets a little frustrating.

So as someone who realizes that D.C. customs and common courtesies are not always immediately evident to newcomers, a list of tips and unwritten rules:

1. Washington is not a playground, an amusement park or a museum exhibit. People actually live and work here, and don't appreciate being delayed by people on vacation who don't realize their party of six is inevitably always in the way. (I think this goes for any major city/tourist destination.)
   
2. Unless you actually have somewhere to be at 9am, avoid the Metro at rush hour. Similar to #1, the Metro is not a joy ride, it's how people get to and from work. A lot of people, actually, and it's very, very crowded on weekday mornings and evenings, with people who are prone to crankiness. If you're a tourist, find something within walking distance of your hotel to do until 9:30 or 10am. Trust me, if it's your first time in the area, you'll feel uncomfortably awkward during morning rush hour on the Metro. Especially if you have kids. Infinitely more so if one or more of them are in a stroller. Plus, minimum fare is 30 cents cheaper after 9:30am ($1.35, instead of $1.65).
   
3. Escalators are a mode of transportation, not a reason to be lazy. Yes, in many other cities in the world (L.A., for example), no one walks on escalators. Here, most people do the majority of the time. No one cares if you stand, as long as you do it on the right-hand side - the left-hand side is the "fast lane." If you stand on the left, you're the equivalent of the VW bus doing 30 in the carpool lane, so don't be surprised if someone asks you, impatiently, to move.
4. Same goes for sidewalks. The generous width of the sidewalks is not an invitation to walk five abreast, it's a concession to a city with a large number of pedestrians. Just as many people take the Metro rather than drive to work, many people also walk, so stay to one side here as well.
5. Use the buddy system. Breaking your group up into pairs (with at least one cell phone in each pair, and one person who knows where you're going and more or less how to get there) will save you a lot of frustration. If the large family I ran into post-D.C. United game this Saturday had been using the buddy system, the pairs who were on the platform as the "doors closing" chimes sounded could have jumped into whatever car was nearest them, and those who were still on the escalator could have caught the next train, everyone confident that everyone else would get where they were going within about 10 minutes of one another. (Instead, the two teenagers who got there first spent two or three minutes delaying the train by standing in the doorway, shouting down the platform at the rest of their group to hurry up, delaying the train and cramming their entire extended family into one already-overcrowded car.)
   
6. Don't drive. Not because I think tourists or interns are bad drivers (Washingtonians are terribly rude drivers, so driving skills are relative here anyway!), but because it will stress you out, cost you far more than public transportation and probably take you longer. Parking is expensive, the streets weren't built to handle today's traffic volumes and there are so many one-way streets you'll have to drive twice the actual distance between points A and B. (And when you slow down or stop to ask a convenient pedestrian for directions, four times out of five they won't know what to tell you, because they don't drive and so don't pay attention to which streets are one-way in which direction.)
7. Be aware of where you are. In the summer, I regularly miss trains, open doors and green lights because I have to find a way around groups of tourists and interns who have stopped directly in front of the escalator they've just stepped off, the building they've just left or the curb they've just stepped up on. It's easy to focus on the internal dynamic of your group, but keep an eye on where you are in relation to those around you, too - they'll appreciate it. (I wanted to applaud yesterday for an eight-person family visiting the District who had all stepped back against the wall of a building while one family member bought drinks and hot dogs for everyone from a street vendor, rather than having the whole family crowd both the cart and the sidewalk. Way to go!)
8. Metro car doors are not elevator doors. Okay guys, this one is crucial: the doors on Metro cars will never - ever - spring back if you stick your arm, leg or backpack between them. They're just not built to do that. Yes, if you're very strong you can force a door to stay open by leaning all your weight on it, but once the conductor closes (or tries to) the doors, you forcing one to stay open won't do anything but break it - and that means every single person on the whole train has to get off and wait for the next one. In which case everyone will be very cranky, and very cramped on both the platform and the next train. So either get on or get off, but when the "doors closing" chime sounds, get out of the doorway.
   

Interning in Washington is a rite of passage for many American college students, and can be a fantastic experience. But for interns, there are a few more specific tips:

1. Remember that you're an intern. Interns are great and can be a huge help - but they can also sometimes forget themselves. This is especially true of summer interns on Capitol Hill, who are usually also part tourist, and often leap before they look when it comes to how Washington works. Interns, do a good job at the basics - boring as they are - and keep your eyes open, and you'll get both the good recommendation and the insight into non-profits/law firms/the Hill you were (hopefully) looking for when you applied. Save the rest for when you're a paid employee.
2. Keep your eyes and ears open. (i.e., Talk less, watch more.) Yes, you've written research papers on several of the issues that are important to the organization/firm/Congressman/Senator you're interning for. But you won't know the specifics of how they address those issues, and you certainly won't know the office culture, before you arrive. Rather than making an early faux pas (that will inevitably become what you're remembered for), observe the inner workings of your new digs before jumping in with what you know.
3. Intern badges are interesting only when you're not in Washington. (Hill interns, this one's for you.) Any internship that involves a badge or other form of ID requires you to wear them because it's standard operating procedure for whoever you're working for, not because your boss thinks it makes you look cool. Yes, showing such badges to your out-of-town friends makes for good, concrete proof of your awesome internship in the nation's capital, but wearing it out to the clubs on a Friday or Saturday night just makes you look unprofessional, and announces your (probably unpaid) intern status to everyone you meet.
4. Don't do anything stupid just because you're in Washington. D.C. is actually the worst place to decide to go a little wild, because since it's not a state, every infraction is federal. Fake IDs? Really, really bad idea. Not only will you end up in the federal system for attempting to purchase alcohol underage, but if anyone actually serves you, the establishment could lose its liquor license and the bartender will inevitably be fired and probably charged as well. As a result, Washington bouncers, bartenders and servers are really good at spotting fakes - the hard-nosed ones will turn you over to Metro PD (again, federal offense!); the more laid-back ones will just confiscate your ID and kick you out (or sometimes offer to give it back for somewhere in the neighborhood of $50-$100...and still kick you out). Oh, and your intern badge? Not a valid ID.
   
5. dcinterns.blogspot.com is an invaluable, if snarky, resource. Consider it your ongoing summer reading assignment and make it your mission in life to never see yourself there. (For non-interns, it's just hilarious, especially if you've ever lived or interned in Washington yourself.)

All that said - have a blast in D.C.! It's a great city, despite the extremely swampy summer weather, and the history here is not to be missed. Washingtonians don't always come across as the friendliest of people, but smile, ask politely for any information you need and you'll usually be pleasantly surprised. Oh, and always carry an umbrella - the summer thunderstorms are bone-rattling, and can produce themselves from a clear blue sky in 20 minutes flat.

Fairy tale princesses a bad influence? No way!

Predictably, Disney's latest fairy tale film, The Princess and the Frog, is causing something of a ruckus, this time over the fact that Princess Tiana is African-American (and her prince lighter-skinned, although apparently his exact racial heritage is ambiguous). But Monique Fields, over at the Root, is more inclined to protest the latest Disney character's job description than her skin tone.

On the racial angle, I'm inclined to say "finally" and move on. (Disney is, after all, 45 years behind the Civil Rights Act on this one. And any institution trailing that far behind the federal government, itself notoriously slow, is at least slightly ridiculous.) But protesting the fact that Tiana is a princess because princesses don't make any money, have unrealistic expectations of their future happiness and wear things that sparkle? Hm.

I grew up on fairy tales, and even with as far up in the clouds as my head usually was (and sometimes still is), I never expected to literally grow up to be a princess - in fact, I don't think I ever considered the possibility that it was a real "job." In most democratic countries, I'm pretty sure the socio-political reality is evident enough to make the point in the collective kid consciousness that royalty is something that doesn't exist in their world, even if they remain enchanted with the idea.

What I loved so much about Aurora, Cinderella, Ariel, Belle, Jasmine, Pocahontas and Mulan (if we're talking strictly Disney, here) was their attitude - and their ability to dream. In my mind, what modern fairy tales do is encourage kids to dream big and never stop, because who knows what might happen? (Need an example? Go listen to "Just Around the River Bend.") And I can't think of a better ideal to impress upon kids at a young age.

Even way back when fairy tales first started being passed down (whenever that was, given that most of them began as oral traditions and weren't written down until several centuries ago), they weren't intended to make kids aspire to be royalty - they were intended to instruct kids on how to successfully make it to adulthood (common sense lessons like "don't talk to strangers who might try to eat you and your grandmother later" included).

I did an independent study course and its 20-page paper on 17th-century fairy tale/folk literature, so I won't get too far into this, but the bottom line is basically: the shiny, sparkly, I'm-a-princess-because-I-want-to-be-spoiled mentality is a late-20th-century perversion of the fairy tale. Largely created and supported by parents. Yeah, if you buy your kid everything she (or he) asks for, and tell her she's special/a princess in a way that implies better than everyone else (or, newsflash, parents: if you act like you're better than everyone else), she's going to be obnoxious and very difficult to handle, regardless of how many Disney princesses she does or doesn't watch traipse across the big screen, or how many pieces of clothing she owns proclaiming her a "Princess."

If, however, your child's love of fairy tales - from translated Perrault to Disney and all the Brothers Grimm in between - stems from the stories themselves and the flights of fancy they inspire, watching tiara-wearing cartoon princesses is not going to make her turn to "superficialities like glitter and makeup...[to] compensate for any deeper flaws some women try to hide" later in life. Instead, it will probably help develop her imagination and her sense of self. One of the things all fairy tales have in common is that the "princess" must make a journey, often physically as well as emotionally, during which her eyes are opened to the world around her and the character traits necessary to help her navigate it. No one wants to grow up to be the spoiled, self-absorbed, utterly charmless stepsister.

And fairy tale princesses are not pushovers - these women know who they are and they rock their individuality! Cinderella probably could've gone all Type A and gotten her stepmother to pick on one of her own daughters instead with a little manipulation, but she stayed true to herself and stuck it out (and was rewarded - hello, fairy tale lesson #1). Belle was mocked by the whole town for her bookworm habits, but she didn't care - and she was the only one brave enough to save her father from the Beast...and then to look past his physical appearance to his personality (and was rewarded - are we noticing a trend?).

Isn't that exactly the sort of thing we want every generation to learn? To be themselves, not to give in to peer pressure and to always do what they know is right? I certainly hope so. (Oh, and Ms. Fields? Your 4-year-old doesn't want to be an entrepreneur because she doesn't know what one is yet. The same probably goes for the lawyer.)

One thing's for sure: I will absolutely read my kids fairy tales and if they enjoy them, I'll happily take them to Disney movies - I'll probably even cry at the sad parts. And rather than relying on multimedia and the fashion industry to form my kids' character, I'll talk to them about what's important, correct them if they start to think they're the center of everyone's universe and not just mine, and encourage them to let their imaginations run wild when it comes to their dreams.

The Cure for a case of the Mondays

Isn't it strange (and kind of awesome) how a half-second interaction with a complete stranger can make or break your day?

I've been having a major case of the Mondays today. (Which hardly seems fair - I mean, come on, it's Friday!) Forgot my lunch at home, which I realized about a block from the office. Which is also about the time I realized the belt of my jacket (very un-June-like weather we're having...) had deserted me at some point during the commute. That, fortunately, I found, three blocks back. Then, late to work after the belt hunt, I found myself locked out of our suite for five minutes as I fought with a key that refused to open its lock and called every extension in the office until I hit the one person who was already in.

Still slightly cranky at lunchtime, I headed out to find something to eat, and looked twice at a woman passing me on the street who looked something like a former boss of mine. It wasn't her, but the woman made eye contact and smiled at me as she passed. Something about her smile was empathetic - maybe my crankiness was evident in my face, since I've been told I'm ridiculously easy to read - and I found myself smiling back, genuinely.

It's the kind of moment that regularly reminds me that I like people, that life and people in general are good, and that I'm happy to be who I am, doing what I am, where I am. I walked back to the office with a much more cheerful spring in my step, smiling at tourists and the janitor who opened the door for me.

I've always believed that your reality is at least somewhat impacted by your attitude. If you see the glass as half empty, you're likely to continue putting yourself in negative situations - or interpreting situations you find yourself in negatively. Negative and positive are opposites, after all, so how can you expect something positive to fall into your lap when you're radiating negativity? And, being something of an eternal optimist, I tend to look for the upside to everything. But sometimes I get in a funk and need a little nudge back in the right direction - that woman's smile was today's.

Of course, now I'm sitting in the hallway in front of my office, writing this post and looking longingly through the glass doors at the keys I can't quite see but know very well are sitting right on top of my desk. Nobody ever locks the front door at lunch, but there are only four of us in the office today, two were already out to lunch when I left and apparently the third left shortly after I did and, being a conscientious employee, locked the door.

So I'm sitting here laughing at myself (only in my head, I wouldn't want to scare the other offices up here who are already a little weirded out by me sitting on the floor in front of the elevators) and perfecting my grape toss-and-catch technique. Because of a stranger's smile, I've decided that, sometimes, general ridiculousness and a lot of laughter is the best way to exorcise a case of the Mondays, whatever the day of the week.