The Interview of yours truly by Miriam

I have already written, a few days ago, about Neil's Great Interview Experiment, when I introduced my interview of Otir.

Well, I was interviewed, this past weekend, by Miriam. Her questions were really thought-provoking and fun. I had a great time answering them. She did post this interview on her blog, but I thought that I would share it here as well with my faithful readers. Brace yourself, it's a long haul! I never know how to curb my verbosity.

What an interesting CV you have. Your choice of college majors intrigues me. Why political science? Are you a political activist, or would you describe yourself as an observer?

I actually started my post-secondary studies in France, by attending the Classes Préparatoires aux Grandes Écoles, at the Lycée Faidherbe in Lille, for two years. There, my major was English. I was not particularly great at it – my aural/oral skills were abysmal – but I was in love with the language and with American popular culture which, in retrospect, I barely knew. The atmosphere in the Classes Préparatoires aux Grandes Écoles, especially during my second year there, was rotten to the core – things were way too competitive – and I went into a state of pretty deep depression (and having a depressive boyfriend did not help either.) I did not do terribly well during that second year, and that’s when I decided to go spend a year in the U.S.A. I basically never went back to school in France after that, except that, after my one year in the U.S., my father “forced” me to attend a nine-month, government-sponsored program, during which I was trained as a bilingual secretary (to this day, I am still a bit resentful that he made me do this, but I did acquire decent typing skills.)

In August 1975, I married an American whom I had met during my year in the U.S. He was a French teacher at a catholic high school in Wilmington, Delaware. I wanted to go back to school and get a B.A. very badly and, at first, I thought that I would major in French, so that I could teach that language at the high school level (and I did take a few French literature classes at the University of Delaware.) But my husband vehemently opposed that idea. He thought that I would not be able to find a job and that, if I did, I would not be happy with it. He would always tell me: “You do not want to teach high school.”

I began developing an interest in political science, and thought that, perhaps, I’d like to go to law school someday. It was the late 1970’s, and everyone was going to law school. I declared a major in political science and economics, but dropped the economics major after a bad experience with a totally inept professor in the economics department at the University of Delaware, and after I realized that I hated accounting, and would have to take two semesters of accounting to fulfill a requirement for the economics major. I did finish the B.A. in political science, though, by going to school part-time for the most part (I did go to school full-time for just one year), and graduated from the University of Delaware, Summa Cum Laude, in June, 1982.

I never went to law school. I started working as a translator and coordinator of translation services at The Franklin Mint (headquartered in Wawa, PA, between Wilmington, DE, and Philadelphia), and remained, in various capacities, with that company until August, 1988. In the meantime, my husband had started a PhD in applied linguistics at the University of Delaware, and we did not have any money to pay for law school for me. I am very glad that those plans never materialized, because I think that I would have been incredibly unhappy as a lawyer (there is not a single attorney that I have ever met whom I have liked, in fact, I have found every lawyer that I have ever met insufferable.)

To answer the second part of your question, no, I am not a political activist by any means and, frankly, I do feel a tad guilty about that, but there is really no time for political activism in my life. I follow U.S. politics very closely, and French politics a bit more loosely (but enough to know what’s going on.) I faithfully watch Meet the Press, and This Week with George Stephanopoulos on Sunday mornings, and I have followed attentively most of the presidential debates. I am a heart-bleeding liberal and, since I became a U.S. citizen in 1993, I have always voted democrat. Even though I really like both Obama and Clinton, I am a tad more inclined to support Hillary than Barack – I think it has more to do with the fact that I have liked and admired her for a very long time, and that I feel a bit less connected to him. But I would basically be happy with either as the democratic nominee. I despise John McCain, and it scares the hell out of me that he might end up being the republican nominee, and I would not be one bit happy if he were to win the 2008 presidential election (I am a tad scared of Mitt Romney as well, but my belief is that, if Romney gets nominated, we have a greater chance of ending up with a democrat as president.)

By the way, I avoid like the plague discussing politics on my blog, because this type of discussion only brings out the worst in people in the blogosphere. But I have great admiration for those who do, and one of my favorite blogs to read is Major Conflict. I occasionally discuss some social issues, but not terribly often.

Interestingly, about four years ago, I made an attempt at becoming involved with the democratic party in my little town (which is overwhelmingly republican.) I thought that this would help me meet townies who were not connected to the university where I teach. This proved to be a bust, because the people involved in the democratic party in my town form a tight-knit clique that was not really into opening itself to newcomers (it does not help that I usually find myself being a little shy among people whom I do not know.) I am not sure that I will ever try this again.

You describe your childhood as a series of moves. Would you say your childhood was a happy one?

This is a very tough question to answer honestly, because I think that one always romanticizes one’s past – either to paint it much darker, or much rosier than it really was.

I frankly believe that my childhood, although not thoroughly unhappy, was not exactly a very happy one, and here are the reasons why:
- My father was a depressive hypochondriac, who was extremely controlling, and spent his entire life trying to prove himself (why he was that way is another story, which I cannot really tell here.) He would sometime get into fits of rage that were very scary. He was never physically abusive to my mother or to my brother and me, but I could probably claim that he was mentally abusive to us at times.
- My mother was morally rigid (my father’s oldest brother, who was a catholic bishop, claimed that there was a Jansenist streak in her family!), incredibly strict, and I spent my entire childhood, adolescence, and young adulthood being afraid of her (I still have lots of issues dealing with her – she is now 86, and I am 55!). She was never physically abusive to my brother and me either, but it seems that she took some sort of evil pleasure in torturing us mentally. I often think that I ended up settling permanently in the U.S. to escape my parents.
- My parents put me in boarding school when I was nine years old. I remained at that school until I was 12. This was one of the most painful experiences of my entire life. I realize that they did this because, at the time, we lived in a small town where there was no good school, but, after they moved back to a more urban area, they immediately took my brother out of boarding school, while I stayed at my boarding school for another two years.
- I always felt that my parents could not care less about my future – what did it matter, since I was going to get married to a man who would support me financially! – and that they were only preoccupied with my brother’s. Remember my father thinking that the best I could ever achieve, career-wise, was becoming a bilingual secretary. Hell, I wanted to be the boss!
- My parents always complained about monetary issues. My brother and I were told, throughout our entire childhood and adolescence, that we were “poor.” But, frankly, we never lacked for anything. We did not live in the lap of luxury but things were fine.

But my childhood and adolescence also had an extremely happy side, and here are the reasons why:
- My brother and I were close in age (he is 14 months older than me) and very tight, and I am still incredibly grateful that I got to grow up close to such an exceptional human being – he is amazingly smart, funny, creative, and he has a very good heart. Being so close to him helped take the edge off from having such crazy parents. We also always had great fun together.
- If there is one childhood/adolescence memory that I cherish, it is that of our yearly, one-month vacation in Talloires, a resort on lake Annecy, in the Alps. My uncle was the bishop of Annecy, and he let us stay at his “country” house (not anything luxurious by any means, but a very cool place nevertheless.) That’s the only way that my family could afford this yearly vacation. It was amazing. One of my dreams is to take my daughter to Annecy someday, just because that place holds so many great memories for me, and also because, to me, it is the most beautiful place on earth.
- We always ate superbly well, especially during those years when my father worked as a chef. I still miss some of the wonderful dishes that he would prepare.
- I had some amazing relatives who, I always felt, were connected to me much better than my parents ever were: My godmother, who was my mother’s cousin, was an amazing lady who taught me to appreciate the arts. My uncle Jean (the bishop) loved me to death, and always let me know that he did, and my uncle Michel (another one of my father’s siblings), who was a Christian Brother and a great intellect, always let me know that I had the capacity and ability to become anything that I ever wanted to be. I did not see those folks very often, because they lived at some distance from us, but I cherished every single moment that I was able to spend with them.

I know you are a devotee of museums. Is music important to you, and if so, what sort do you like?

Music does matter a great deal to me. Actually, I have written in my blog before that music is the only art form that can bring tears to my eyes, or chills down my spine.

I wish that I could state here that I am a real connoisseur and aficionado of classical music (as you are, Miriam), but I am not, and I am extremely ashamed of this. In fact, a fairly short-term goal of mine is to build a solid, basic classical music collection, and to educate myself about classical music (going a bit beyond that music appreciation class that I took in college, back in 1979!). I would especially like to become more knowledgeable about opera, because I am quite fond of opera, and I have an unbounded admiration for those who have a great operatic voice.

So – what kind of music do I like? Well, when I was 11, I heard the Beatles’ “I Want To Hold Your Hand,” and that was the start of my life-long love affair with rock & roll. In my adolescence, I became a huge fan of the Beatles, as well as of the Rolling Stones (although I could not care less about anything that they put out after 1975 or so.) There were many other “classic rock” bands that I liked a lot. Later on, I became a huge fan of Bruce Springsteen, who I still think is the best live rock performer in the world.

In the late 1970’s, I discovered The Clash, Elvis Costello, and The Talking Heads, all within a very brief time-span. I am still a huge fan of Elvis Costello (whom I have seen in concert twice within the past three years – he is phenomenal, much better in his fifties than he ever was in his twenties) and of David Byrne (who was the lead singer of The Talking Heads) who, I also think, is phenomenal live. I also adore Patti Smith, whom I finally got to see in concert this past summer – she is one hell of a cool woman!

I am also connected to current “indie” music and, to name only a few, at this very moment, I like to listen to The New Pornographers, The National, Belle and Sebastian, Feist, the Decemberists, and M. Ward.

Of course, I also like French music. My idol is a French singer named Bénabar, because he writes great, well-crafted, and incredibly clever songs.

I am also quite fond of World music, especially north African and African music. My favorite African musician is, by far, Salif Keita.

I do not care much for jazz – I am not turned off by it, but it’s not my favorite kind of music. American rap leaves me cold, but I kind of like French rap.

What do you enjoy doing in your spare time?

By far, hanging out with my boyfriend (who, unfortunately, moved away today to start a dream job in another city, located about six hours away from where I live, on February 4) and with my daughter or with my friends. I also like to travel, something that I have started doing more and more since I landed the university teaching job that I have now. I also enjoy reading (I recently went on a kick, reading a bunch of books having to do with food), and watching good movies.

What was the best day in your life, so far?

I have written about that day in my blog before (unfortunately, I can’t remember the exact date when I wrote about it), it was probably the day of my 16th birthday.
Other days that could qualify:
- The day I defended my doctoral dissertation (I think that it was November 1999.)
- The day that I found out that I had ranked first among the candidates for promotion to the rank of Associate Professor at my school (it was in April, 2006.)
- I do feel a bit guilty that I did not answer: “The day my daughter was born.” Yes, it was a happy day, that’s for sure, but giving birth is nothing fun, so I cannot claim that September 12, 1986, was the “best” day in my life. But, and by far, it was the most important day in my life.

What would you secretly like to do, if you dared?

This is a tough one, because I am not a daring person, by any means. I will answer this: Driving cross-country – only because I suffer from an acute case of driving phobia, especially when it comes to driving on highways. This is my own shameful secret (only a handful of my friends know about it), and I would love to be able to overcome this phobia some day.

Why did you start blogging, and what did you want to accomplish? Has your blog changed emphasis as you went along? (Mine did.)

I have written about this a number of times over the past three and a half years or so since I started my blog, because, every so often, I question the usefulness of blogging. I started totally by accident. I am on FLTEACH, a list-serve for foreign language teachers and, sometime in June, 2004, someone on that list-serve mentioned something about blogs. I was pretty much unaware of what blogs were at the time – except that I knew that my daughter and many of her high school friends had a LiveJournal (which, by the way, I did not know was a blog.) I was intrigued, looked at the blog that this person had created, and decided to start a personal blog.

I was not really sure what I wanted to accomplish with it, except perhaps to keep a record of events in my daily life, and of issues and matters that made me tick. I had never really kept a journal (for fear, when I was a teenager, that my mother would find it and read it – she was always snooping in my personal belongings, but I think that snooping in their kids’ stuff is something that all mothers do), except during the year that I had spent in the U.S., back in 1973-74 (that journal was destroyed, but I would pretty much use a lot of its content in the weekly letters that I sent to my family during that year and I believe that my mother still has those letters – I will ask for them next time I visit her.) The whole idea of keeping some sort of an online journal intrigued me.

One important function that I see my blog fulfilling is that of being a link between me and my relatives and friends who live far away from me. I know that they read my blog faithfully, and appreciate the fact that I keep it. This is the #1 reason why I continue blogging. I can also say that I have met some cool folks through blogging, and that the few faithful readers that I have keep me going.

I cannot really say that my blog has changed emphasis since I started it. My posts alternate among accounts of my daily life (I make a concerted effort to write about such mundanities regularly, if only to keep a record of what’s been going on in my life), brief “essays” about issues that matter to me or about quirky things in life. I occasionally write reviews of books, CDs, or movies. I have written a number of long posts about my childhood, my youth, my past, and my relatives. I do write about highly personal matters, but the core of my private life remains very private – I would find it repulsive to write about my bedroom antics, for example - that is nobody’s business but mine and, to boot, my daughter reads my blog. I think that, through blogging about my past and my life concerns, I have been able to cast a light on a number of things, and to understand myself better.

Maybe, because of one very nasty experience that I had with an individual who took pleasure in insulting me on my blog and in the comment section of another person’s blog (which I promptly stopped reading), I have stopped entirely writing negative things about anyone else’s blog (that “feud” had started with a post I had written in reaction to an entry this guy had written, in which he expounded, in a derogatory tone of voice, on the classic stereotype of the prevalence of body odor among the French.) Let’s say that I stay away from any sort of controversial topic much more than I did when I first started my blog.

What's your favorite foreign country? And why?

I would have to say France, if only because it is my native country, and there are so many things about it that I still miss immensely.

Frankly, I have not traveled to very many foreign countries, and I hope to remedy this in the years to come. I went to Turkey last spring, and fell in love with that country and its people. I would return to Istanbul at the drop of a hat – it is a magnificent and incredibly vibrant city, and I like it as much as I love Paris. I saw my trip to Istanbul as my very first baby step into the “exotic,” and I definitely want more. I am considering going to Morocco this coming spring, and plan on going to Thailand within the next couple of years (I hope that my not-so-ex-husband, who has traveled to that country many times and adores it, will be my guide.)

Which would you rather do--listen to your favorite music alone, or take a walk with a friend?

This is a really tough choice, because I am a bit of a loner – in that sense that I am not a naturally social person, and I relish my “alone” time. So, as much as I love my boyfriend and my friends, I would answer that I would rather listen to my favorite music alone than taking a walk with a friend. But to be honest, not by much, and I think that my decision to do one or the other would depend on my mood at the moment when I would have to make that choice.

Beer or wine? Or neither?

Beer, by all means. I come for northern France, the land of beer.

What would you like to improve about yourself?

The way I dress, I think – I’d like to be more stylish and to wear skirts (on any given day, I always wear pants, and I find that fairly pathetic) and sexier clothes.
I also need to lose about 10 to 15 pounds, and to reconnect with the concept of physical fitness.

What do you most value about yourself?

Probably the fact that I am a very nice and easygoing individual, and that I am incredibly tolerant of others (except of assholes and of people who are homophobic or racist.)

What would your ideal friend be like?

It would be someone who can provide sound advice without passing harsh judgments on me, someone who is a great listener and whom I can trust and count on 100%. It would have to be someone with whom I can have a special bond, a great deal of complicity, and with whom I could feel very comfortable and laugh a lot. I am lucky to count a few friends who fit that bill. Only one of them lives close to me, though, and that would be my very dear friend, Mary-Jo.

Otir - A French woman with amazing style

A couple of weeks ago, Neil, of Citizen of the Month's fame, in one of his many strokes of genius, organized The Great Interview Experiment. Neil has many many faithful readers, and this is how this project went: He was going to interview the very first commenter on the post in which he announced this project (V-Grrrl was "it," and you can read her interview by Neil here - you won't regret it!).

For a bit, I thought that I would pass on this one, but I noticed that Otir had joined the pack, and had inquired about the possibility of adding a French cohort to this project. I therefore volunteered to join that cohort. As a result, I was matched by Neil to interview Otir, to whom I sent my questions in French. Otir, however, did choose to respond in English, which was perfectly fine with me.

I do not recall when I began to read Otir's blog, or even how I connected to it - it might very well have been through Neil's blog. I know that I have now been reading her prose for probably about six months, and that I was totally blown away by the quality of her writing (note: her blog is written in French - she is a French expat who lives in the U.S., where she raises her two young sons alone, the oldest is autistic), and by her skillfulness at dealing with difficult topics or issues. I was, thus, delighted, to be the one to have been chosen by Neil to interview her.

I want to thank Neil for having, once more, managed to muster the talents of his internet friends to create such an interesting and fun-filled project. If you want to read more of the interviews that have already stemmed from The Great Interview Experiment, go here.

MY INTERVIEW OF OTIR:

1. From what I was able to discover on your blog, you have been keeping it faithfully for about two years (it seems that you started it bout February, 2006.) What led you to undertake such an adventure? What were you expecting or hoping to get from it? In what measure are you satisfied with it, and in what measure are you disappointed with it?

I started my blog on March 5, 2006 yes. I was starting to be a little tired of posting on dedicated boards (all about autism) and having a community of readers who were not particularly interested in me as a whole person, but only as a mother, a mother of young children or a mother of a child with autism. I was tired of sharing information, information and support to newly involved families, or simply delving constantly on autism with my community of friends also dealing with it.

I also belong to another group online where real life friendships developed. This discussion group allows me to be myself, but it is a discussion group, so a place where everybody brings their own views, stories and exchanges sometimes briskly about what we think on actual topics. This group is a closed community of French-speaking Jews, and sometimes it felt lonely, to be the only one living in the United States and seing things with a bi-cultural point of view (even if some of the members of the group may also have a bi-cultural point of view since they live in Israel and are nearly all French-born Jews).

I wanted a place where I could be myself, totally myself, speak of everything, not only the topics that were identified as the cement for a given group of participants. I had discovered blogs recently, and I was starting to marvel at some, and realized it could well be what I was looking for.

I was hoping to free my expression, to finally share about what is boiling inside me, my intense desire to help everyone change even slightly, and change their point of view, even if it were one inch or one millimeter towards acceptance, and maybe think twice about our human condition, our humanity. I was hoping to be able to recount the numerous experiences that I have accumulated through my nearly fifty years of existence now, as someone who has suffered from feeling different, and tried (successfully?) to overcome this feeling, and finally accepted herself for who she is.

I was certainly hoping that this would bring me solace and it has. In a way, this could be what can be somewhat disappointing: blogging has brought me a lot of rewards, but has also created some craving for always more! It is a very addictive activity and I was not looking for another addictive behavior in my life.

As for the hope that it would free me, it has yet to do it, that is probably why I am going to go on blogging. There is always more to share and more interested readers to touch. One day at a time.

2. Why, although you now live permanently in the United States, did you decide to blog in French?

Blogging in French was an easy decision: I started to use the Internet mostly to use the French language, which I was not using in my everyday life at all. Even my children don't speak French with me. Their father left us when they were too young to have mastered the language as a conversation tool, and it probably meant conflict more than anything else. Besides, my elder son does not speak per se. He could not care less using French, English or Ouzbek if asked to do so, because he does not have any conversation anyway.

Since I started blogging with the primary intention to allow myself to pour out my thoughts, I could not imagine doing so in English. To me, language modifies the way we think. I don't think the same in English, nor do I in French, or in any other language that I may be able to master. My emotions and my energy are in French. Writing in English would have certainly allowed my blog to touch more readers than it does now, since it is in French. But I like it this way, because through the course of my months of blogging, I realized that I had more to change in the French way of looking at things (from my point of view) than the contrary.

And my desire to influence English speakers on how the French way of thinking can improve their own understanding of the world, well, I still do it: in real life through my daily activities. I have remained very French, as my friends like to say, and they seem to be fascinated when I retell them (in English) the many ways the French culture has to be a great tool to analyze the world and see nuances that their pragmatic and explicit language does not always allow to sense.

3. Since I have just asked a question about language, are you conscious of the superior quality of your writing? Everytime I read your blog, I am absolutely blown away by your style, the fluidity and the poetic nature or your prose, your choice of words, your syntax – everything, indeed, makes me envious of the way you are able to write. If your answer to my question is “yes” (again the question is: “are you aware of the superior quality of your writing?" Please, answer honestly, no false modesty!), when and how did you become aware of it?

Well, well, well, Elisabeth ! How can I not blush at this question. Blush with pleasure and pride. And to be as honest as the medium can allow it, yes, I am aware, but at the same time I am a little ashamed as if having a gift (because it is a gift for me to have fluency in writing as you are describing it) was not something I truly deserved. I haven't gone to classes, I haven't studied writing, I haven't particularly worked on it and it comes quite naturally, I'd say. So I sometimes feel like a fraud.

I was not always aware of it. Although I have always had good grades in school and in college too, I never went into literature courses, and never tried to publish anything. I haven't been writing a lot since I was 12, but hid my writings most of the time, because I hated them. It was like if they were betraying me before I had even shown them to any reader. I lacked self-confidence beyond reason. I had been slapped on the wrist so many times for trying to go in the light, mostly because some close family members wanted or needed the light for themselves, and the highly dysfunctional balance that was necessary for us all to survive required me to be the ugly duckling – a role that I played for the sake of everyone. My mother wanted to do everything that her daughter was doing, so she tried to write a book even before I had a chance to do so myself. I felt that if I were to become an author myself before she did, it would be not only disrespectful, but hurtful and dangerous, so I ignored my talents as much as I could.

The Internet and starting a website has allowed me to reclaim my writing with pride. Now that I am a blogger, I realize that I can write. Maybe I will. I wish I had been able to know that I was capable earlier, because it would have been a nice venue to have a career in a field that I like, instead of failing at a lot of jobs that were boring me to death after a while. Not even mentioning not making a decent living.

I still have doubts though. It is very hard to obliterate years and years of self-deprecation. And sometimes I feel like I am writing in such a tortured (note: Otir added the French word alambiqué here, in parentheses) way that it is not easy or pleasant to read! And I become very envious of successful bloggers based on popularity criteria rather than talent.

4. You write regularly, and in a very moving but also incredibly lucid way, about the autism of one of your two sons. In fact, I discovered with great interest, while scouring your blog, tons of information on autism, and more specifically on your son’s diagnosis. How do you manage this daily reality, especially since you are raising your children alone?

This is one of the painful aspects of my daily life that I still do not dare bringing into my blog too much. Because it can sound very depressing, and maybe I don't have the humorous way to distance myself enough from the daily burden of raising a child with autism, and raising two children with no other parental support than a meagre monthly child support payment that their father deposits to my bank account, with no other personal involvement.

I also try to chase my resentment away. I feel like I have lots of very negative feelings because of the situation and I know that concentrating on the negative can only bring more of it. I wish I were capable of showing only positive aspects of my dealing with the given situation, but when I wake up in the morning, it takes me a tremendous effort to just go on. My only way to cope is to believe I can cope. So this is basically how I would say I manage. I believe. I believe that my sons are the best thing in this world, I believe that things don't happen randomly, I believe that I have something to improve in me to be able to truly face what is happening every day, even if every day is repeating what I had desperately hoped would not happen the day before, and that I had a chance to truly shine, instead of having to repeat the same tedious and sometimes disgusting tasks that are linked to my son's condition.

I spend a lot of time chasing negative thoughts that come to my mind at an incredible speed each and every day. It is taking a lot of energy. Unfortunately, I am sure this energy could have been used in great projects, and in a wonderful career that I am not able to claim. And I resent that a lot too. But people don't see a bitter person in me, on the contrary they praise my strength and always pleasant mood. I also feel like a fraud, because I cry inside painfully and wish I were telling it more often so that someone would come and take me in his or her arms and console me. Or clean up my room and cook for the kids. Or give me a million dollars, so that I can fix a lot of things in our lives. Then I realize that I can live with the dust and the mess in the house, that the kids like eating their fries and frozen waffles, and don't care about delicious soups, and that money can't buy the incredible love my two boys give me. So I go on for another day and am thankful.

I do have to manage a very high level of anxiety. I chose to do so without any medication. Every day I pray that I made the right choices. To be able to do this, I think I hide a lot more than what I would like to, given my passion for honesty and openness. This can be kind of isolating, but I compensate with the virtual world of blogs.

5. For a little while now, you have been writing posts that deal with the electoral campaing and the primary elections in the United States. Are you frustrated by the fact that you cannot vote in this country, of which, if I am not mistaken, you are not yet a citizen (do you plan on becoming one sometime in the future?) Do you follow French political life? Did you vote in the French presidential and legislative elections last spring?

As a matter of fact, I don't feel frustrated that I can't vote. I am not yet a citizen, you are right, it took me a lot of administrative trouble to only become a legal alien (because my former husband had very nicely tried to ban the three of us from getting our green cards, in a desperate attempt to have us deported as illegal immigrants), and the energy was wasted in it, enough for me to ponder before I decide to become a full American citizen. My younger son really wants to become a citizen, and it would be easier for him if I were one too, but it is not yet decided. Apart from voting, and helping my sons become citizens themselves, I see no reason to do so.

I voted in the French Presidential elections, but I am not allowed to vote in the legislatives, as a US resident (you have to reside in France to do so, same for the coming local elections). I am very passionate at following French politics. I also try to follow Israeli politic life as closely as I do for the American and French ones, although I nearly never discuss it on my blog, because it is a topic than brings only trolls and I have absolutely nobody to convince or educate. I discuss it within my discussion Jewish group and I feel safe and cozy there. Being Jewish is still something that is seen as a political statement when it is absolutely not!

Actually, I'd rather discuss the political issues from a Jewish point of view, if I could dedicate more time to explaining what I mean. Jewish ethics and views on political matters are very interesting. To go back to the current Presidential race, I see it as a wonderful opportunity to change something in America that has slowly gone completely lethargic (Note: Otir used here the expression “to fall into sidération - that term meaning a state in which a being is totally deprived of any emotions and unable to react to anything), and - in my opinion - has to reclaim its energy, optimism and ability to repair a broken world and do good things, instead of losing their souls in a terribly materialistic and selfish pursuit.


This was a delicious experience to be interviewed by you, Elisabeth, thanks for the stimulating questions you asked me. I chose to answer in English directly, because it was limiting me a little, otherwise I may have gone into very very lengthy developments, enough to write five or more chapters of a heavy book. I will certainly use your questions to create new blogposts, and I am sure Neil can also be crowned as the most inspiring blogger of the blogosphere with his ideas and capacities to implement them in such a pleasant way!