D-Day

I spent my junior year of undergrad abroad in Montpellier, France. It was probably one of the more defining years of my life; I feel like it forever changed me. I not only mastered the language (which I have since lost), but I traveled all over Europe, alone and with friends, and my perspective on the world shifted dramatically.

While in Europe, I was obsessed with World War II. Never a historian, while there was I fascinated by the battle scars that still existed in 1994-1995. I felt like I was walking on hallowed ground; there was something there that haunted me.

But what resonates with me years later is the affection many older French people had for Americans--my host family's grandparents, little old people we'd meet in boulangeries, old couples who ran hotels...They repeatedly told stories of handsome and polite American soldiers from WW II who came into their towns and gave them a sense of hope that had been long lost. They had respect for our country and an appreciation for our involvement in the War. And these people where thrilled when they met us, as if we were somehow connected to these young men from decades past.

When I think of my daughter or future son out in the world, as American citizens, I truly hope that the tides will have turned by the time they travel and America will once again somewhat celebrated. I have traveled a great deal since our status has fallen, and defending your citizenship and disassociating yourself with your government certainly feels different from my experiences in France in 94-95.

(I never made it to the beaches of Normandy--my friend Deb and I ran out of money and I wanted to go to Auschwitz in Poland more--but I hope to go one day...)