Category Archives: Special Issue: Views from Abroad on Election

Reactions to Trump from Austria

Boy was there egg on my face. I had spent my first three months in Vienna assuring my new friends that there was no way in hell Donald Trump would be elected president. On election night I lay awake until 5am, perpetually refreshing the newsfeed on my phone, only falling into a fitful sleep when it looked as if I had been wrong. I awoke to find that I certainly had been wrong. That morning I bumped into a [French] roommate on my way to make coffee. As we made eye contact he burst out laughing and I burst into tears. He thought I was kidding. He assured me that in France their president was also a “clown” and that it was only an election. He had no conception of the U.S. Presidency holding any weight internationally. Such is the pinnacle of idiotic bliss. We should all be so lucky.

The day after the election most of my classmates were tactful enough not to mention the results to me, but then again I didn’t know any of them all that well. My close friends from Paris where I lived for two years before coming to Vienna sent me condolence emails, something that I had not been expecting. I didn’t receive just one or two but nearly 10. Another friend, upon seeing me, without saying a word, gave me a very long, silent hug. They behaved as if I were in mourning.

It was a hot topic at the Green party headquarters the evening of the Austrian elections, where I accidentally found myself in attendance at the official Van der Bellen victory party. My still burgeoning grasp of the German language forces me to confess to being an American quite early on in any conversation which is a regrettably perfect segue into discussing Trump. “Did you vote for him?” people asked me. At first I was offended but I soon realized that they weren’t asking because they thought I seemed like I shared the same ideals as our President Elect, but rather because they were so baffled as to why anybody would vote for this man and they were hoping I might explain it to them.  As it turned out we were mutually perplexed. Ultimately, however, all anybody expressed was relief that the Austrians had defied the politically conservative trend sweeping the Western world. I understood their relief but all I could feel was jealousy.

 

After graduating from Smith in 2014, Sophia Wise received a fellowship to study at the Ecole Normale Supereure in Paris. She remained abroad and is currently completing her Master’s degree from the Sorbonne with an exchange year at the University of Vienna. She will begin law school in the fall of 2017.

Facebooktwitterredditpinterestlinkedintumblrmailby feather

The Wee, the People of Scotland and California, Are Overruled

Around June of 2016, we Americans watched as Britain voted to leave the EU in something they were calling Brexit.

As I was about to start a year abroad as a Master’s student at the University of Glasgow, the referendum was important to me as it would be dictating the political climate I would be submersed in during my time there.

The day after Brexit, many people were shocked that the Leave vote had actually won.

Fast forward to November 2016 – I was finally beginning to feel comfortable in Glasgow. My flatmate, who was from Salisbury in southern England, was turning out to be one of my best friends. We had talked at length about Brexit, about her take on it and her take on Scotland’s vote, and we had talked at length about my election.

That’s what we were calling it – MY election.

But the night of November 8th, I watched as the election changed drastically. All of the hope I had was dashed in a matter of hours. I had thought I wouldn’t really stay up for the results, but it turns out, I couldn’t sleep. I spent the night on the phone with my boyfriend, watching and realizing with a horribly helpless feeling, that this was indeed, not my election.

The morning after the results, my flatmate (a traditional Brit in all ways), broke her personal bubble to give me a hug as I sobbed. I cried as I walked to class, not wanting to go but knowing I needed to drag myself out of my room, if only for a little while.

When I got to class, two Scots began talking about the election. One of them said, “well, we don’t know what Hillary would have been like in office” with an obvious ominous implication. Fueled by lack of sleep and anger, I wanted to punch him.

At the time, as I hid in the bathroom to shed more tears, I had thought he had no room to talk about the election. I was the one grieving! I was the one that was mourning the fate of my country! I was the one who had to pick myself up after a man had won, despite all he stood for (or I suppose, it was rather because of all he stood for) and figure out how to reclaim my place in my homeland.

I realized later, that while him talking about it right next to me the night after may not have been the most sensitive thing, he had the right to because this election would change so much.

Being Americans, we are told about our reputation abroad quite a lot, and it’s not, shall we say, all that positive. I had hoped I would be able to help change that – I promise we aren’t all ignorant, oblivious, loud racists! I had hoped that this election would show we were beginning to put another foot in the direction of progress, of being seen as more than our reputation.

But, clearly, I was wrong.

The Scots seem to get it though. They understand my heartbroken disbelief. A majority of Scotland had voted to remain in the EU in the Brexit vote. Being a part of the EU was one of the strongest arguments that “Remain” voters had had in the Scottish Independence Referendum in 2014. They too, had been robbed.

After the Brexit vote, like my native California after the 2016 election, Scotland threw around the idea of jumping ship from a country that seemed xenophobic to its core.

Eventually, my grief and sorrow dimmed enough that my international friends would get the courage to ask me that question we were all burning to know the answer to.

How did this happen?

And I had to give the ugliest truth.

Because Hillary is a woman.

So now, we get to be seen as more than the ignorant, oblivious, loud racists…we also get to be sexist as well.

 

Riana Hull ’14 is from Irvine, California. After completing her three years at Smith (and one abroad), she worked in California for two years before applying for a Master’s degree at the University of Glasgow, Scotland. She is currently in the UK, completing that degree.

Facebooktwitterredditpinterestlinkedintumblrmailby feather

El Pato Donald

The first time I ever saw The Simpsons, I was in Spain and it was dubbed in Spanish. The Simpsons is one of the most popular shows in Spain among viewers of all ages, and is on every day from 2-3 p.m. (lunchtime) on Antena 3, one of the main channels. As an English teacher living in Southern Spain, this means I’m asked to explain a whole lot of things that happen on The Simpsons. This includes the election of Donald Trump, which was predicted by the show way back in 2000 (Season 11, Episode 17, “Bart to the Future”).

I’ve been talking about El Pato Donald (Donald Duck, a popular Spanish nickname for the President) in my classes for a long time now. I had a running joke this summer with one of my advanced groups. Somehow in our Friday conversation classes, Donald Trump would always come up – no matter what topic we started out with.

On November 8th, my students of all ages offered me their confident predictions. “Hillary’s going to win, isn’t she, seño?” At 2 p.m. the news coverage was already nearly 100% about the US elections – correspondents reporting from Washington, Spanish commentators providing their analysis, and video of Clinton and Trump voting. That night, I had originally planned to watch the live results roll in on Spanish TV, but decided that I couldn’t bear the stress. In a cruel turn of events, when I got up at 7 a.m. Spanish time (1 a.m. EST), the election was just about to be called. I was finishing breakfast as the Spanish commentators announced Pennsylvania for Trump and sealed the deal.

I live in a small town in a rural area, where most people earn their money farming and raising livestock. Yet as opposed to the US, rural, agricultural Spain leans strongly to the left, nearly always voting for the Spanish socialist party. My students as a whole are quite liberal, and don’t particularly care for the current conservative Spanish president (though even the Spanish right is generally to the left of the Democratic party). This is also a country that spent the better part of 2016 without a president, because after two elections, no one had won an absolute majority, and thus no one could govern. It was only the threat of a third election (and on Christmas, no less!) that made a difference in the negotiations.

Remarkably, none of my students seemed particularly surprised to hear that while Hillary Clinton had won the popular vote, Donald Trump would become president. Once I explain the Electoral College to them, most just shrug their shoulders and say, “Well, that’s politics for you.” There is a general apathy and distrust for politicians among Spaniards (at least here where I live) that gets applied to politics all around the world.

My teenagers, probably those who interact most with English-language content on the internet, show me parody videos of the election and the candidates that they find online. There’s a lot of interesting stuff out there, and it catches their attention. When we watched Trump’s victory speech and Clinton’s concession speech in class, they understood Clinton’s accent better, and spent most of Trump’s speech giggling as they watched poor Baron fall asleep. But even they noticed the clear semantic differences between the two speeches.

My younger students have taken to repeating the chorus of a song by a popular Spanish comedy duo, Los Morancos. In the song, one of the Morancos, playing a madre Latina, takes off her slipper and repeatedly spanks Donald Trump (played by the other Moranco), singing “Trump-Trump-Trump”, which sounds like “Thump-Thump-Thump”. The kids have picked up on it, and I often catch them humming it or singing it, and they particularly delight in wagging their fingers and singing “Trump-Trump-Trump” when another student misbehaves.

The day after the US elections, Antena 3 replayed the “Bart to the Future” episode. This time I paused to watch it all the way through. The main plot line in this episode? Lisa becomes the first female president of the United States.

 

Lucy McAuliffe ’12 is an English teacher living in Villanueva de Córdoba, Spain, where she owns and runs a small language school. In her (limited) free time, she enjoys reading, writing, and organizing.

Facebooktwitterredditpinterestlinkedintumblrmailby feather

Voices from Abroad

Mbandaka, Democratic Republic of the Congo | September 30, 2016
Where are you from? Ah, America. And who are you voting for? But why? Donald Trump is a very rich man! A billion dollars? In one year? Well, I don’t know about that, but he has many businesses around the world and makes a lot of money. I suppose, but she is a criminal? Who? Bernie Sanders? I’ve never heard of him.

Kinshasa, Democratic Republic of the Congo | October 2, 2016
I don’t know about this man, this Trump fellow. He does not seem to be that smart, and he is not even a Christian! He has lost a lot of money, and he doesn’t treat his employees very well. Things are not seeming well here. The price of gas has doubled last week—doubled! Haven’t had a customer since you were here in August, no one is coming to invest. See there? That’s where the tires burned. An email from the US Embassy? They evacuated the families. The president has stopped paying his guards, they come to my neighborhood at night. I have to be home early! We will hope for the best!

Marrakesh, Morocco | November 9, 2016
Is this the end of the US’s transition away from fossil fuels? What does this mean for NASA’s work in the climate sector? What will we do if we lose our funding? How long do we have before the funding is cut? How long are their funding cycles? Here’s my card. Will I need to leave the US? Will my visa be revoked? Will I lose my job? What about conservation funding? I’ll email you. What about development funding? How much of your funding comes from the government? 50%? Oh man. Sorry. Did you see that woman crying in her coffee cup? Did you see me crying in my coffee cup?

Paris, France | November 25th, 2016
And look what has happened in the US, with Trump! He says nothing! Rien! Just look where we have found ourselves. Just look! Where are the leaders of the left? Where are the moderates? Where is rational thought?!

Brest, France | December 16th, 2016
And what has happened over there in the US, with Trump?! Wasn’t the electoral system designed specifically for situations like this? Why hasn’t he released his tax returns? He would go to jail in France. Shouldn’t he be in jail? Or at least be on trial? And he’s getting divorced! You didn’t hear? I saw it on the news this morning. Where? I’m not sure, let me check. Ah! Found it. Fake? Really? No I just read the headline! Well, they tricked me!

Marseille, France | December 31st, 2016
I’ve never left Britain before. You could say I’m “Brexiting”—in my own sense. Next I’m going to Mexico and then we’ll hop the wall to Burning Man. And then we’ll go on a road trip. Where? Well, I’d like to visit all of the states in which marijuana is legal. Have you ever been to Arches? To Zion? Colorado?

Aix-en-Provence, France | January 6th, 2017

You know, now that it has happened I’m not shocked. I have been expecting it all my life. And you know, my father, he was born a Polish Jew, and died a Communist. Forever a Communist! He always said, “Ça va recommencer un jour”. It will start again one day. And you know, when we were young—it was the 70’s! We didn’t want to hear that. We wanted to move forward—we believed in the progression of society. But now, it has started to return. He was right. Ça recommence !

Aix-en-Provence, France | January 20th, 2017
She won by three million votes? What? That doesn’t sound like a democracy. Re-districting? That’s crazy. Totally crazy. But it’s not the majority! Three million? That’s not a small number. How many people are in the United States? More than 300 million? And how many people voted? Half! But why don’t more people vote? America First! What does that mean? The world is too small for that now. We need each other!

Eva McNamara ’13 is a Cape Cod native. She has an MSc in Food Security and
Development from the University of Reading in addition to her BA from
Smith. In her spare time, she enjoys taking photos, going outside,
gardening, and cooking dinner with her husband.

Facebooktwitterredditpinterestlinkedintumblrmailby feather

Disappointed Friendship

The Germans I know observed the 2016 election with particular worry compared to the other three American elections I experienced from here. Things were different in 2000 when I studied abroad; in 2008, when I immigrated here and again in 2012. It is the escalation of worry over time that became my barometer for how people reacted and what fears they had, by extension, for Germany.

My lasting impression from 2000 was ridicule as the Florida recount wound through politics and the courts. There was headshaking all around and great wonder how the United States could have such a patently weird system, from voting machines to the Electoral College. Later, Barack Obama’s election seemed to bring about a loud, collective sigh of relief. A comedian on late-night TV gleefully shouted “peace, happy, pancake!” in direct translation of a German expression (Friede, Freude, Eierkuchen!). Everybody was so pleased, they could even laugh about it and themselves. The world had been righted again. The mood was dampened in 2012 but Obama’s repeated victory reassured people that figures like Sarah Palin had been just a fluke.

This time, the sense that the United States has ridiculous politics and absurd, if not downright stupid and illogical, priorities has been strong and deep. Disappointment with what Obama was unable or unwilling to do, and collective derision about widespread, if not majority, American positions turned into something else. (They [re-]elect politicians who hate providing people with health insurance? All that climate change denial in the face of scientific expertise and abundant evidence? Mass shootings and police violence? Such dissatisfaction with an economic situation that is wealthy compared to most of the rest of the world?) Friends, acquaintances, and colleagues asked, “Tell me, what’s up with this Trump character? Does he actually stand a chance? What is this? Who are these voters?” I have never before been asked to explain the USA so frequently in a country where many people pride themselves on their knowledge of their major ally. Germany continues to face its collective historical guilt on a scale that is unique worldwide and the blatant racism and xenophobia of not only the Trump campaign, but many Republican candidates, were inexplicable here. It highlighted all the negative things from recent American history that people would rather see outweighed by the USA’s generally positive character. The fact that Bernie Sanders’s positions would seem radical drove home the point that the US is more deeply conservative than many Germans usually feel like admitting.

Brexit was unthinkable from here, but the election of Trump was an escalation of nearly unfathomable proportions. I know Germans who cried about Brexit, but Trump’s victory seemed even too much for tears. I felt others’ shocked and horrified silence, their utter speechlessness. Colleagues sent me condolence emails, carefully asking if I was okay. Many people here orient themselves and their perceptions towards the USA. The soul-searching of the American media immediately led to soul-searching in the German media. The danger of fake news influencing Germany’s upcoming elections is being examined. The electoral prospects of Germany’s populists (the AfD) were re-examined. The close attention that was paid to the primaries and the general election is now paid to the transition, but now it’s without the underlying sense that we might as well find it entertaining. People I talk to echo my own sense of dread. Everybody misses laughing at the USA’s previous election gaffes.

The press agency DPA called a prominent curator, someone who was my own mentor as I started my career, to ask for his position. He said a version of something I’ve heard often from members of the older West German generation. It goes roughly, “Never forget that the Americans were our liberators. They showed us democracy. The freedom of our dreams is embodied in this idea of America.” When Kasper said it now, though, it sounded like a valedictory instead of a reminder of why people love our country. Kasper’s reminder had another ring to it, too, of disappointed friendship and the recognition that someone has become something you always believed they weren’t at heart.

 

Emily Evans graduated in 2002 from Smith College with an Art History major and German minor. She is an art historian and editor who moved to Berlin, Germany, in 2008.

Facebooktwitterredditpinterestlinkedintumblrmailby feather

A View From Europe: Transatlantic Populism

As a Smithie who has lived in Europe for the past 37 years, I have watched US-European relations wax and wane. Different US Presidents generated differing levels of popular sympathy here. However, at this point in time, Europe and the United States are largely in sync, with both facing a dramatic rise in populism. The election of Donald Trump as the 45th President of the United States cannot be seen as an isolated incident, but rather it is the result of broader societal trends including: a rejection of open borders and the free trade policies that facilitate globalization; a related rise in nationalism and isolationism: increasing fear of “the other” including anti-foreigner, anti-migration and anti-refugee sentiment coupled with a real fear of terrorism; anger and resentment particularly amongst low and middle income white men as manufacturing and low-skilled jobs disappear to developing countries, while wealth in the West is concentrated in fewer and fewer hands. These trends affect both sides of the Atlantic.

In June of 2016, a referendum was held in the United Kingdom in which the population voted 52% to 48% in favor of leaving the European Union. This outcome of the so called “Brexit” vote (combining Britain and exit) had not been predicted in the polls and was a major surprise to the urban Londoners who voted 75% in favor of staying in the EU. People who voted to leave were on average less educated, had lower income levels, were born in Britain (not foreign born) and lived in more rural areas. Perhaps this sounds familiar.

A general election will be held in the Netherlands on March the 15th where the self declared anti-Islam anti-migration Freedom Party led by Geert Wilders is currently predicted to win a majority in parliament. Then in April begins the first round of voting in the French Presidential election where the socialist incumbent Francois Hollande made the surprise decision not to run for re-election and the right wing National Front candidate, Marine Le Pen has advanced in the polls. Marine Le Pen opposes free trade, advocates protectionism, and blames the European Union and international organizations for the decline in French industry and agriculture.

When taken together, the US Presidential election, the Brexit vote and upcoming elections in the Netherlands and France, a clear picture emerges. Populist leaders are tapping into popular angst. The questions being asked in Europe regarding the US election depend very much on a person’s political persuasion and socio-economic position. Globalization has not benefited all equally and the popular backlash is clear. Here in Switzerland, where I live, the leader of the right wing Swiss People’s Party argues that Trump’s victory should serve as a warning to current world leaders not to ignore citizens’ concerns on issues including migration, while on the left the Swiss Socialist Party raised concern about the election of a “megalomaniac, narcissist and populist who shows contempt for diversity, multilateralism, and human rights, particularly the rights of women.” On a more optimistic note, the leader of the Swiss Liberal Party stated “the presidential role changes a man and forces him to be better.”

The view coming from the World Economic Forum annual meeting in Davos, Switzerland is that the world urgently needs responsible and responsive leaders, who can stimulate economic growth, build more inclusive economies and societies, adapt to the challenges of extremely rapid technological change, work as global citizens to address climate change and keep peace. Let us hope these leaders emerge on both sides of the Atlantic.

 

Janet ’75 is the Chairman of the Creating Shared Value Council at Nestle SA and a Non-Executive Director at BUPA, the British United Provident Association. She is also an Ambassador for the International Integrated Reporting Initiative. Previously she held the position of Global Head of Public Affairs at Nestle SA and was a member of the Board of Bamboo Finance, a social impact/private equity firm. Her career has spanned the public and private sectors, have spent 8 years as CEO of the World Heart Federation, as well as 10 years as a partner in the corporate strategy consulting firm, Bain & Company.

Facebooktwitterredditpinterestlinkedintumblrmailby feather

American Salad

“Until the lion learns how to write, every story will glorify the hunter”  — African Proverb          

The recent U.S elections and the presidency of Mr. Trump cannot be thoroughly evaluated without making reference to the U.S foreign policy of the last fifty years.

As a Turkish Smithie (’96), I lived most of my life in Istanbul, and I grew up loving everything American.  My teenage room walls were covered with posters of American idols like Madonna, Rob Lowe and the Karate Kid.  I listened to the music of Michael Jackson, Prince, and Earth, Wind & Fire.  My brother was more into Metallica.  My parents, who are both in their early eighties, are from the first generation of Turks who were fascinated by the American culture.  My dad has an impressive LP collection of American Jazz, Blues and Soul music.  My mom is a graduate of Robert College, the oldest American College outside the U.S (founded in 1863, in Istanbul).  Yet, we also loved to listen to Tchaikovsky, read Tolstoy and eat Russian Salad, a popular import into the Turkish Cuisine from generations ago.  I remember my parents being puzzled by the sudden name change during the Cold War years; it was now called the American Salad.  Could a name change of a popular dish influence the public opinion, and motivate a country to embrace capitalism rather than communism?  Then, it sounded comical.  Now, I know it’s not enough, but it’s a start.

I did learn about the Cold War during my education at Smith; and about the Truman Doctrine, the Marshall Plan, the Muslim Brotherhood and the clashes of civilization.  Fearing the expansion of communism, the U.S government implemented a set of military and economic rescue programs in Europe and Asia, including Turkey.  It opened air force bases (four in Turkey), built radar stations and rocket ramps, sent armaments and held training programs. Turkey received around 60 million U.S Dollars as a grant, along with a generous amount of military equipment.   What I didn’t learn was the fact that Turkey had to pay the U.S around 145 million U.S Dollars each year for maintenance and spare military parts.  So much for that… This rescue program was more than a new nation on the rise with no capital could handle.

I learned about Karl Marx, and his famous quote “…Religion is the opium of the people.”  I learned how Lenin gladly adopted this philosophy during his oppressive regime.  What I didn’t learn was the fact that the U.S also adapted the same philosophy to carry out its own agenda for the region.  I didn’t learn about the Islamic Green Belt Theory, which was promulgated by Carter’s National Security Council.  Green is the color of Islam; most Islamic countries have green on their flags.  Instead of supporting the democratic forces, the U.S government used religion as a weapon against communism, and supported Islamic fundamentalism in Muslim countries surrounding the U.S.S.R, to form a “green belt,” a buffer zone to halt Soviet expansion… thus paving the way to the current turmoil in the Middle East and terrorism all over the world.  I didn’t know about the CIA’s false flag operations and its ties to the Taliban, Bin Laden, El Kaide and Fetullah Gülen.  Gülen is a Turkish religious clerk who has lived in Pennsylvania for the past fifteen years. His movement opened schools in Turkey and all over the world with the false pretense of introducing “moderate Islam,” and recruited its followers to important positions in the Turkish government, military, police force and judiciary branch with the help of AKP, the conservative ruling party, and its leader (now President) Erdogan, once Gulen’s ally.  

Over the years, the movement not only gained control of all of these institutions, but also started dominating the academic world and the media, slowly silencing all opposing voices and eradicating all that is secular.  Gülen is now accused of being the force behind the attempted coup d’état that took place in June 2016, which led to the expulsion of roughly 76,000 government officials, including 3,500 soldiers.  Today, my country’s government is on the verge of becoming an Islamic totalitarian regime.  I believe Islamic totalitarianism has caused more damage than communism.

These miscalculations of policy makers and the interventionist attitude of the U.S government backlashed and turned into American hatred within the Muslim world.  America has been the self-appointed police of the world, and it has not been welcomed.

How can civilizations clash when the world is full of Sufi westerners and classical music lovers from the East?  Civilizations don’t clash; they coexist and cooperate despite their rulers.  They inspire and learn from each other.  It’s not ideologies that clash either.  The world has suffered as much in the hands of corrupt capitalist politicians, as in the hands of ruthless communists.  It’s a war between knowledge and ignorance, between good and evil, between fear and love.  It is harder to draw the lines, and building walls between countries, or keeping Muslims out are not the solutions.  The legacy that President Trump took over is far more complicated than he can imagine.  Although I know that freedom and democracy are deeply rooted in American ideology, Trump’s chauvinistic approach is a sign that they will continue not to be a priority when it comes to the U.S foreign policy.

 

Defne Arsel (’96) worked as a documentary filmmaker in various TV stations and her own production company in Turkey for fourteen years, before shifting her career into art.  She now works as a sculptor in the atelier of Yunus Tonkus, a prominent Turkish sculpture.

Facebooktwitterredditpinterestlinkedintumblrmailby feather

From Hero to Zero: A Brief European View of the United States

Once viewed as a hero and protector of democracy, the reputation of the United States is experiencing a shift in Europe as EU-member states consider how they can emancipate themselves. Trump’s rise to power is not yet compared to Hitler in Germany, but the parallels are obvious. The country of unlimited possibilities is quickly morphing into a country of limitless preposterous posturing.

The room resounded with laughter, accompanied by the clinking of forks and knives. The Network for English-Speaking Women in Freiburg was about to commence its final dinner meeting of the year. Although not a member, I was intrigued by the speaker’s topic on medical care for the refugees in our area. Seated next to a delightful woman who grew up in California, I asked her what she thought about the recent U.S. election results.

The entire table froze. I thought perhaps I had entered a war zone with a single question, but anxiety and sleep deprivation from watching the results tip in Trump’s favor throughout the night, along with my increasingly frayed nerves, clouded my perception. Their silence showed solidarity. One woman at the table smiled.

“I am from New Jersey, but have lived in Europe for over ten years. I am the only one in my family who doesn’t support Trump. I feel miserable.”

Other women from Ireland, Germany and elsewhere chimed in.

“We’re in for a very bumpy ride.”

The consensus was a mixture of emotions: fear, despondence, frustration, disbelief, anger and anxiety.

As a long-time expat living in Germany, I have witnessed America’s reputation in Europe during the 1980s go from hero to zero by the late 1990s. Many post-World War II Germans stood in awe at the greatness of the United States. It was a country viewed as protector, upholder of principles, lighthouse to the world. As the US waged war against Iraq in 1991, I experienced my first confrontation by a disenchanted German who thought the U.S. was a terrible warmonger and an easy target for hatred. The country’s reputation received a bump when the Twin Towers tumbled a decade later. Europe stood united against the pain of the 9/11 aftermath. But every time I would visit my family in the U.S., I could feel a growing unrest there, a swell of anger seething just beneath the surface of things. People in the United States seemed edgier, less trusting, less kind.

Then Obama took office and even my children, who were then only 7 and 9 years old, cried with me. That election night was a very different one for us back then. We clung to the threads of possibility that had woven the tapestry of our country. We thought the United States had finally embraced positive change and resilience after years of entrenched victimhood. We applauded as they attempted to implement affordable healthcare, a benefit most Europeans have grown to believe is a fundamental human right.

Eight years later the world looks at the United States very differently. The narrative has shifted from possibility to preposterous posturing. In fact, instead of relying on generous US support, EU-member states are considering ways in which they can emancipate themselves to take on more responsibility.

Trump tapped into the seething anger of the disenfranchised, manipulated the masses, made false promises, lied. It is a mystery to many of us not living in the United States how anyone could believe that the very person responsible for corrupt business practices could ever save those victimized by it. Any progressive, forward-thinking person can see the ridiculousness of his claims as plain as day. Even political conservatives cannot deny that he is a madman. Germans have yet to compare him to Hitler while many in the United States already have. The parallels between the two are clear.

As the election prognosis solidified into truth in the early morning hours on November 9th Central European Time, I watched as the exhausted German television show host ended the program with a visible look of disgust. The audience sat in stunned silence, pools of saliva forming from all the jaws dropped in the room.

In all my conversations with my European friends, I have not met a single person who felt Trump had anyone’s best interest at heart other than his own.

Perhaps the tenor in Europe can be summarized in a simple interaction I recently had. A young German man I met at an open-air market said, “I always thought I would visit the U.S. one day. But now…” he paused for a moment, and I swear I could almost hear his hopes shatter into a thousand pieces. “Now I don’t think I want to go there anymore.”

 

As the author of multiple self-help books, including The Power of Slow: 101 Ways to Save Time in Our 24/7 World, Christine Louise Hohlbaum provides ways for people to learn how to go slow in order to be more productive, how to create boundaries by saying no more often and how to make the construct called time work for, not against, you. A recovering speedaholic herself, Christine understands the constraints within which many people lead their lives. Her work focuses on busting how of the fast lane’s corset to a saner, more self-directed pace of life.

Facebooktwitterredditpinterestlinkedintumblrmailby feather

How to be an American Abroad: The Trump Effect

The day after Donald J. Trump’s inauguration as the 45th president of the United States, my Spanish friend joked that Trump would use nuclear weapons against Mexico, after building the wall. He laughed, saying it was just a joke—but all I could think was: it’s easy to laugh when he’s not your president. It’s easy to laugh when your safety—your future—is not at risk, when you have an entire ocean between you and this political monstrosity. Don’t laugh, I responded to my friend, because that very well might happen.

It’s an odd sensation to be following the politics of your country when you no longer live there. As an English teacher in Madrid, I felt gripped and scared and horrified during the presidential race, especially because I wasn’t there, in America, witnessing and experiencing it all with people who knew exactly how I felt. Instead, the connection to my country became a tangled web of technology: my online portal into America accessed through news websites, the Facebook statuses of my American friends, Skype conversations with my family in America, and WhatsApp messages with other Americans who lived outside the country. In my attempt to piece together a virtual America, I often felt like an outsider looking in, desperately trying to keep up with someone who didn’t miss me as much as I missed them.

I kept at it though, needing to talk with people who understood how I felt.

My presence as an American in Spain now meant two things: I became the designated soundboard for Spaniards to reflect on the decline of American politics and I was also expected to provide a justification for Trump’s win. Whenever someone found out I was American, the conversation—understandably yet much to my chagrin —turned towards Trump. They would stare at me, eyes unbelieving, as they listed their shock: how, they wanted to know, could this man get elected? Was it because Hillary was a woman? Is everyone in America racist? And hey, doesn’t Trump remind you of Hitler?

It was exhausting.

Unable—and, I’ll admit it, unwilling—to clarify the nuances of the election process and Trump’s rise, my go-to response was to just shake my head in remorse and make some half-hearted joke about how I would only talk about Trump after the second drink. I didn’t want to open my heart and reveal the pain I felt about this new president. I didn’t want to go into detail about the implications of this presidency for people of color, for immigrants, for Muslims—for anyone who wasn’t a rich old white guy. I didn’t want to share the betrayal and confusion I felt about my divided country and the consequences for America and the entire international community. These conversations were reserved for fellow Americans—friends and family back home or ex-pats I had become friendly with here in Spain. There was something so comforting in talking about our country, without having to explain why. We shared our thoughts, our rage and confusion, already understanding the other before they had spoken.

The physical separation between America and me resulted in a more scrutinizing perception of my home. I’m living in a country with different policies and politics than my own and this has given me another perspective to critique and compare America to. And the reason I continue to argue and cry over my country—why I keep myself updated on American news, actively pursuing the daily grievances and horrors in the land of the free and home of the brave—is because that’s where I’m from. That’s my home. I continue to love where I am from, even though I’m living on a different continent, even though I still can’t wrap my head around Trump’s win and the existence of the Electoral College, even though headlines shout out the latest deaths and atrocities. I refuse to tune out and ignore the protests and the turmoil and the injustice. I refuse to turn my back on where I’m from, no matter how easy it might be.

While I do not know what is in store for Trump’s presidency—and I’m sure he himself is still figuring out all that the job entails—the international protests held against Trump after his inauguration were a much needed reminder of the resistance against the hate and prejudice spewed by Trump and his supporters. The fight is just beginning. And if I have to explain how Trump made his way into the White House to a curious Spaniard in the hope of a better understanding of the political landscape, well, so be it. It’s the least I can do.

After graduating in 2016, Nora Turriago moved to Madrid, Spain to teach English. Born and raised in Massachusetts, she has no regrets about ditching the New England winters for Mediterranean sunshine. Nora is passionate about education as a tool for empowerment, especially for young women and girls. She likes writing, yoga, and eating ravioli.

Facebooktwitterredditpinterestlinkedintumblrmailby feather

French Middle Schoolers React to Donald Trump

I teach in two middle schools in Paris as part of TAPIF (Teaching Assistant Program in France). This is my second year participating in TAPIF; last year I taught in two middle schools in the district of Yvelines, the western suburbs of Paris. In both years I’ve had very diverse classes. I believe many of my students are first-generation immigrants from African countries, and especially from the Maghreb. Since I am the English assistant and my focus is speaking and listening skills, I’m usually assigned small groups of students who are the strongest in English among their peers. I’ve been able to have fairly substantive discussions with some of my older students and hear their reactions to Donald Trump and his xenophobic remarks about Muslims and people of color.

 

French law forbids giving one’s religious or political preferences in school — I have the impression these laws tend to be more strictly adhered to in France than in the U.S. However, my students often ask me if I like Donald Trump and whether I voted for him. I feel obliged to tell them,” no I didn’t,” so that they will feel at ease with me in the classroom. My students seem to be less interested in the upcoming French presidential election. They assure me that  Marine LePen is very bad and probably won’t be elected. They are so unanimous in this opinion that I don’t think it goes against anyone’s sense of neutrality.

 

Most of my friends here in France don’t believe LePen will be elected either. I usually come back with “We never expected Brexit or Trump, so be careful!” They often cite her lack of concrete economic policies as the ultimate weak point that will prevent her from gaining too much support, even among people who might support her positions on immigration. I am worried though; I know that I live in a liberal bubble here, where city hall is run by a coalition of the socialist, communist and green parties. I’ve read that Breitbart has opened up French and German websites, so I believe that there may be more support for LePen than the French news media has led us to believe. In any case, everyone I’ve spoken to assumes that LePen will make it past the first round (all French elections have two rounds, a week apart).

 

Overall, I’m surprised my friends and colleagues aren’t more worried or disgusted. One colleague told me that reactions are varied: some believe it’s the end of the world while most find it alarming but don’t think it will affect their daily lives very much. On TV, Trump is often the butt of a joke. I sometimes wonder if people appear calm because his dubbed voice on the news is so neutral. It’s pretty ridiculous to hear the robotic translation of Donald Trump’s speeches with the sound of his actual voice in the background. Like Americans, it seems the French are tired of pundits and the 24-hour news cycle. The covers of the Charlie Hebdo magazines have been interesting to follow. As is typical, they only narrowly avoid being offensive, in some cases. I think they save themselves by expressing compassion for the situation in America, even as they maintain a satirical tone.

 

I recently watched a round table discussion of the high points of Obama’s presidency, according to French pundits. They showed a clip from Barack Obama’s speech at the memorial service of Reverend Clementa Pinckney and expressed their admiration for the eloquence of his long pause before launching into Amazing Grace. One commentator said, Whatever your disagreements you may have with his policies and decisions in office, it cannot be denied that he has a very strong connection with his people (the American people) and that he can sense the needs of his audience and respond to them in his speeches.” It’s been easy to be an American in Paris while Obama has been president, because he is so well loved here. I remember receiving less than polite treatment in some restaurants when I visited France and Spain while George W. Bush was president, and I hope this won’t again become the case.

 

I’ve often wished that my students weren’t so well-informed and intent upon following world events, because I worry that his remarks have only increased their feelings of marginalization in Occidental society. One of my best students last year, Abdel, often made remarks that revealed he had memorized the US News and World Reports’ ranking of the best American universities and dreamed of going to one, especially MIT or Columbia — like Obama. He now has only two and a half years of high school left; it makes me sad to think about how much more difficult attaining his dream will be.

 

Hannah Carlson graduated from Smith College in 2015 with a degree in Comparative Literature. She returned to France upon graduating after spending her junior year in Paris. She teaches English in two middle schools in the 17th arrondissement.

Facebooktwitterredditpinterestlinkedintumblrmailby feather