My Best Books Of 2017

My best books of 2017 are an odd bunch but they have this in common: Once I got started, I couldn't put them down. 

And, oddly enough these days, only one was purchased on Amazon, which is how most books are sold in the U.S. In France, bookstores are still popular, mainly because by law books must sell at a single price--no discounting. (See the infographic at the end of this blog post and “Amazon pèse lourd sur le livre, mais moins en France qu’ailleurs.”)

Two graphic novels topped my list. “Isadora,” by Julie Birmant and Clément Oubrerie is a French biography of American dancer Isadora Duncan (1877-1927). I purchased this beautifully illustrated book at my neighborhood bookstore as a way to read more in French, and previously blogged about that here.

The other illustrated book is the inspirational “Together is Better,” by Simon Sinek. He challenges us to be leaders who watch others rise, who cheer for others and watch them grow. That one I pinched from my husband who received it as a gift.

Another one I “borrowed” was “The Power of Habit,” by Charles Duhigg. If you agree with the author, we are mostly the sum set of what we do each day, those ingrained habits from drinking several cups of coffee or not, from working out daily or not. Don't make resolutions, build habits. They stick.

I lifted "Habit" from the huddle room at work. But instead of reading it, I listened to it on Audible where I’m testing out a three-month subscription. It’s a great companion for the commute! And much more refreshing than constantly reading the news. (Note to self: take the book back to work!)

I also listened to the 1959 classic “Man’s Search for Meaning,” which people have been recommending to me for decades. After listening to it on Audible twice, I bought the physical book so that I could linger over some of the passages. Like this one:

 “For the world is in a bad state, but everything will become still worse unless each of us does his best.”

In the genre of French noir, I heard about the prize-winning novel “Chanson Douce” by Leila Slimani, on French breakfast TV and was intrigued by the plot: a perfect Mary Poppins of a nanny goes rogue and kills the little darlings. I knew how it ended, but wanted to see how the author got there. Chilling.

Another chilling book was “Between the World and Me,” by the writer Ta-Nehisi Coates. It’s a love letter to his son about growing up black in the U.S. I can’t get into a black person’s skin, but I think this is the closest I can come to understanding how it must be. I bought that book at the great independent Harrisburg bookstore, Midtown Scholar.

Why do I still read books? Because fiction or nonfiction, they open up my mind into the souls of others. I'm challenging myself to read 18 books or more in 2018, inspired by Gretchen Rubin's idea to make a list of 18 things you'd like to do in the New Year.

Any recommendations? I especially could use a recommendation for a book in German. What were your best reads of 2017? What do you have on the shelf for 2018?

Source: http://www.post-gazette.com/image/2017/02/04/booksalesbig

Rose Marie Burke, an editor and lecturer at the University of Paris 8, writes a blog about her personal insights into life in Paris. After 20 years in the City of Light, she still calls her native Pittsburgh "home." You can also find her on LinkedIn, Facebook, or Google+.

The Best Neighborhoods: Make Up Your Own Mind

When Pittsburghers ask me about visiting Paris, some common questions are: What is the best neighborhood to stay in? Which are safe? Which ones should I avoid?

I usually answer that unlike U.S. cities, where the urban core is usually seen as unsafe, in Paris it’s the opposite. Here, central Paris is safe and well-protected by France’s security forces, partly of the importance of tourism. Because the city is so rich, the poor have been priced out.

You’ll notice that Paris is more multicultural than Pittsburgh, which still suffers divisions from a long legacy of redlining.* In France, mixité, loosely translated as diversity, is a national value. I’m not saying the country has reached that goal—far from it.

However, for a long time France has intentionally woven housing projects, called “social housing” here, throughout cities. In contrast, intentional redlining in the U.S. created ghettos in Pittsburgh and other cities that only deteriorated over time.
 
Even those Paris is through and through an amazing city, Parisians and long-time residents like me have maps in their minds of the “best neighborhoods.” When I moved to Paris, I wanted to live in the trendy Marais, but ended up in the staid 16th arrondissement, with a high concentration of pearls and poodles (so the joke goes).


What map do Pittsburghers have in their mind? See the one below by Judgmental maps, which I consider “ignorant” (rude) as Yinzers would say, but reflects what some think. My old neighborhood of Knoxville is now considered “old people and white trash.” (I told you it was rude!)

Knoxville was considered a second-tier or “blue” neighborhood according to the 1937 Residential Security Map (see below), which was the basis of redlining. Only new developments fell into the top “green” tier. My old 'hood started to develop in 1872 and its homes attracted many middle managers of the South Side steel mills as residents in the 1920s and 1930s.

Blue neighborhoods "… as a rule, are completely developed. They are like a 1935 automobile still good, but not what the people are buying today who can afford a new one,” according to the Federal Housing Administration's description of the tiers. Well that’s harsh! The guidelines then go on to comment that banks typically impose tighter mortgage terms on blue neighborhoods than green ones. Getting a mortgage in a red area, the worst, was either impossible or expensive. Geez, there was no way for a neighborhood to go, except down!

The silver lining to the long and horrible history of redlining is that housing prices in Pittsburgh have gone so far down over the decades that today the only way is up. Coming to Paris? Moving to Pittsburgh? Explore, break down the lines, make up your own mind!

*See Devin Rutan & Michael Glass (2017) The Lingering Effects of Neighborhood Appraisal: Evaluating Redlining’s Legacy in Pittsburgh, PA, The Professional Geographer.

Pittsburgh Pops Up A Parisian Dinner

For the third year in a row, about 1,000 Pittsburghers on Friday dressed up in white to attend a very Parisian pop-up “white dinner” -- a Dîner en Blanc.

The idea was born in the French capital in 1988 and has become a global phenomenon, with about 70 cities holding the event.

It’s a formal version of the très Pittsburgh tailgater, a food fad that informally gathers sports fans around the end of a truck or SUV for a spread. In the 'Burg, the dress code is black and gold.

The location of the White Dinner changes each year, and is kept secret until the last moment. In Pittsburgh this year, the flash mob assembled in Highmark Stadium in Station Square, the open-air room decorated with the city’s stunning skyline. Go here for video.

While in Pittsburgh the food was catered for people who registered ahead of time, diners usually bring everything from the three-course meal, to the wine, fold-up table, tablecloths and candles.

The first event started simply enough. The Frenchman François Pasquier invited friends to an outdoor dinner in a public park in Paris, the Bois de Boulogne. With a thought to practicality rather than refinement, he asked them to dress in white so they could find each other.

These days, the event has unfortunately become more exclusive and regimented as the crowds have grown. It’s hard to get an invitation, at least in Paris, where the dinner takes place in June. Registrations for new members are closed. The only way to attend is to know someone, a member or an organizer.

It’s easier in Pittsburgh, at least for now. Go to the website https://www.dinerenblanc.com/, choose your city, and pay: $34 for the dinner and $9 for the membership fee.

Maybe because the town is home to the federal government, the event in Washington, D.C. is highly regulated. Heaven forbid your white outfit is ivory, off-white, or beige and if your white square folding table isn’t between 28 and 32 inches! See “Why do people hate Diner en Blanc? The word ‘pretentious’ keeps coming up.”

Maybe I’ll just have a little old potluck at my place. Dress code: As long as you wear something, that’s fine with me. But please take your shoes off at the door.

Like this blog post? Then please share! Don't like it? Please comment (nicely).
Want to follow this blog? Enter your email address into the “Follow by email” box.

Rose Marie Burke,  an editor and journalist, writes a blog about her personal insights into life in Paris. After 20 years in the City of Light, she still calls her native Pittsburgh "home." You can also find her on LinkedIn, Facebook, or Google+.

Photo: Pittsburgh's Diner en Blanc (2015). Source: Pittsburgh Post-Gazette.

On Hurricane Harvey And Paddleboards

I watched in horror this week as “Harvey” turned from a hurricane into one of most devastating natural catastrophes to hit the U.S. Amid all of the destruction, however, were many acts of bravery. What warmed my heart was this paddleboard rescue. To me, the boarder symbolizes neighbors helping neighbors. I was going to say it symbolized Americans helping their neighbors, but in digging into the story I found out this man is actually a Parisian and moved to Houston only last year!

As a fan of the sport, I could almost see myself out there like this Frenchman, braving the waters on dangerous missions, saving lives.

In Pittsburgh this summer, I headed down the mighty Allegheny River on a paddleboard. I wasn’t there to pull people out of the water, but to enjoy it. We explored the beaches and calm coves of Allegheny Islands State Park, just a few miles upriver of the city, thanks to SurfSUP Adventures. The rowing was tough for me as we paddled against an undertow created by a small dam. Could I really rescue a person, even a small boy, against the worst that Mother Nature could throw me? Floods do occur in Pittsburgh. Over the course of its 250-year history, the city survived 15 severe floods that put downtown under water. However, since flood controls were put into place after the Great Flood in 1926, a 1-in-500-year event, the city has had only two 100-year floods since 1942.

In Paris, we live a stone’s throw away from the Seine River on a flood plain. Last year, we feared the Big One. In June 2016, the Seine rose more than 18 feet above its normal level, but crested without threatening our apartment (see my post about that here). The river’s record high was nearly 27 feet above normal during the devastating floods of 1910. Some say that means we’re long overdue for a 1-in-100 year event, which would probably come up to our first-floor apartment—and disable of the heating and electrical equipment in the basement.

We were assured that our apartment complex was designed to withstand a 1-in-500-year flood event. By contrast, Harvey is being called a 1-in-1000 year event. I can’t imagine either happening, but happen, I’m afraid, it will. These calculations aren’t forecasts, but are statistical averages that experts develop from historical data. But the times and the weather are a’ changing.

In Pittsburgh, my paddleboard was an inflatable version, but felt solid as a rock. I hinted to my husband something about a Christmas gift. I could stow an inflatable board in my tiny place in Paris (if I clean out a few closets). It would be fun to paddle around the Seine once in a while. And who knows, one day I might need to rescue a small child—or myself.

Like this blog post? Then please share! Don't like it? Please comment (nicely).
Want to follow this blog? Enter your email address into the “Follow by email” box.

Rose Marie Burke,  an editor and journalist, writes a blog about her personal insights into life in Paris. After 20 years in the City of Light, she still calls her native Pittsburgh "home." You can also find her on LinkedIn, Facebook, or Google+.

The Tiny Country Between Pittsburgh And Paris: Wow!

Last year I wrote about an amazing layover between Paris and Pittsburgh. Iceland, with its lava and glaciers, called us back with the beauty of its unspoiled countryside and nearly alien landscape. Would we be able to afford it?

We did, partly thanks to Iceland’s new budget airline, Wow! (The exclamation point is part of the name.) We put the $1,800 we saved on our usual round trip toward five days in the country.
Like all budget airlines, Wow! can kill you with fees. We saved gobs of money because we opted out of carry-on bags, assigned seats, and food. We flew on the cheapest dates. We did spring for one checked bag—with a strict 44-pound weight limit—per person.

Warning: No free pretzels or drinks, or in-flight entertainment. It was actually a blessing! Our nearly full flights were eerily quiet. No flight attendants constantly walking the aisles. A good many people like me dozing instead of binging on movies in a zombie-like state.

The real wow factor is the country of Iceland itself! (This time, a real exclamation point.) This year we decided to book two tours to the furthest possible points doable in one day.

The first was a four-hour hike in the highlands of Landmannalaugar (see photo above), where we saw one of the world’s few “rainbow mountains.” The night before, we purchased gloves and leggings in Reykavik as there was a chill in the air. Hearing the weather report on the bus to the mountains, we added wool hats to our wardrobe on a pit stop. While we enjoyed nearly 90 degree F. weather in Paris, it was 32 degrees on the mountain with the wind chill. But it could have been much worse. Hikes like ours are regularly shortened by body-drenching Arctic rain and gale-force winds (waterproof jackets and boots are a must). Instead, we had sun and clear views from the mountaintop. We were lucky, as more than one Icelander told us.

Craggy cliffs in Snaefellsnes

The second tour was to the Snaefellsnes Peninsula, scattered with fishing villages, rugged cliffs, glaciers, and lava fields. It was like the west coast of Ireland, though with sparse vegetation. My favorite stop was to Djúpalónssandur beach, featuring the untouched remains of a 1948 shipwreck—a memorial to the people who lost their lives there.

This is just one small example of what is amazing about Iceland: the people’s respect for nature, history, and of course, the weather. Streams in the outback that still boast drinkable water. Stretches of highway, beach, and countryside with no litter. Nature unruined by the erosion of animals or human activity.

Wow!

Like this blog post? Then please share! Don't like it? Please comment (nicely).
Want to follow this blog? Enter your email address into the “Follow by email” box.

Rose Marie Burke, an editor and journalist, writes a blog about her personal insights into life in Paris. After 20 years in the City of Light, she still calls her native Pittsburgh "home." You can also find her on LinkedIn, Facebook, or Google+.

By the way, Iceland's heated outdoor public pools, featuring hot tubs, are a great inexpensive way to soak the feet tired from hiking or site-seeing. Before or after a cinnamon bun from Bread & Co. at the new Hlemmur food hall.

Part of a mural at Keflavik airport

Presidential Encounters

Yesterday I came this close to seeing U.S. President Donald Trump, here in Paris for Bastille Day, and French President Emmanuel Macron.

It wasn’t intentional. I was having my own presidential moment in a café in central Paris near Galeries Lafayette. You see, I was just elected president of my Toastmasters club, Paris Speech Masters, and I was meeting the past president for a formal transition of power. This amounted to handing over the club banner, and chatting about life as president over a drink and dinner.

Seriously, I’m proud to preside over the club, which boasts two International Speech Contest finalists. I definitely want to keep the bar high!

On my way to the meeting, I noticed a huge national police presence near the Eiffel Tower, but all was relaxed for the moment. The officers, in their vans, were being served hot dinner trays, airplane style. Baguettes graced the dashboards. They folded down their seat-back tray tables, spread napkins on their laps, and ate with cutlery. The only thing I didn’t see was the wine.

On the way back from my meeting, banner in hand, the police had long finished dinner. They were mobilized around the Eiffel Tower, their vans blocking all but two lanes of traffic to slow and check vehicles. It was an impressive show of force.

Source: AFP.

The reason? Up high in the Eiffel Tower, the two presidents and their wives were having dinner in the Jules Verne restaurant, one of France’s finest. I imagine that Trump and Macron, over drinks and dinner, were trading notes about their first months in office and life as president.

Photo above: Source: The Independent.




Like this blog post? Then please share! Don't like it? Please comment (nicely).
Want to follow this blog? Enter your email address into the “Follow by email” box.

Rose Marie Burke, an editor and journalist, writes a blog about her personal insights into life in Paris. After 20 years in the City of Light, she still calls her native Pittsburgh "home." You can also find her on LinkedIn, Facebook, or Google+.

Radio Days In Pittsburgh And Paris

Mired in a tedious task yesterday at work, I reached for some music therapy through my headphones. Via the internet, I usually tap into my favorite French station, but why not take a trip back home?

I tuned into Pittsburgh-based WYEP just in time for an unusual show, “Pairings with Chef Fuller.” On the sound platter was Son Little’s latest song, “Blue Magic (Waikiki).” The chef suggested, of all things, a frozen daiquiri. But hold the umbrella and blue curacao! Instead go for a mix of better white and golden rums. The cocktail definitely captured the '70s surfside vibe of the song. I was started to sway and develop quite a thirst, though Son's smooth style isn't my natural inclination. (For the amazing food pairings, why not listen to the rest of the episode yourself?)

What’s great about 'YEP (Yinzers say "why-e-pee") is that it’s independent radio. You won't hear the top 40 or commercials. You’ll hear a lot of alternative music from newer local and regional bands, as well as slightly better-known musicians like Little, an R&B-inspired “son” of Philadelphia. (I’m not sure how Son picked his name, but the word means “sound” in French. His birth name is Aaron Livingston.)

My husband has pulled many an all-nighter with WYEP in his ear, and counts as a contributor. Yes, listener-supported means the station is funded by its “members,” people like you and me. What's nice is the community that WYEP aims to create, going beyond programming to stage concerts and other events as well in its South Side studio.

In Paris, we listen to FIP, a similarly eclectic station, which was my mommy therapy of choice while raising my daughter. The three letters used to mean France Inter Paris, but now the station just goes by the acroymn. It's pronounced feep--like jeep. For the month of July the station is featuring Fredda, Babx, J. Bernardt, Charlie Parker, Dan Auerbach, The Rhum Runners, et Quantic. (Should I admit to knowing only one of those musicians?)


FIP is a public station, which in France means that is entirely funded by our French tax dollars. Every year we pay an audio-visual tax of about $150, which goes to a number of TV and radio stations. We think it's a small price to pay to avoid those annoying commercials. (Imagine watching a 90-minute movie in--90 minutes!) FIP is part of the Radio France group that also has its own orchestras and offers a full calendar of concerts. When my daughter was a child, we would walk down to the gargantuan Radio France building for low-cost classical family concerts on Saturday mornings.

In these days of Apple iTunes, what it is about radio? I definitely use it to set a mood and escape the mundane. I want the songs to surprise and come to me—but also to take me elsewhere. To Pittsburgh and Waikiki, for instance.

Like this blog post? Then please share! Don't like it? Please comment (nicely).
Want to follow this blog? Enter your email address into the “Follow by email” box.

Rose Marie Burke, an editor and journalist, writes a blog about her personal insights into life in Paris. After 20 years in the City of Light, she still calls her native Pittsburgh "home." You can also find her on LinkedIn, Facebook, or Google+.

Bonus: Speaking of rum, see this boozy review of Pittsburgh’s craft cocktail scene; “Whiskey: Pittsburgh’s Fourth River.” You’re bound to find the right rum for your frozen daiquiri.

Photo credit: Classic frozen Daiquiri; Copyright: Ogione | Dreamstime.com

Source: http://www.electronicdesign.com/blog/future-am-radio

Homes For $100,000 In Pittsburgh And Paris

A $100,000 home
in the Pittsburgh neighborhood of Beechview.

The other day, I got sucked into an article about “What $100,000 Will Buy You In Pittsburgh.” Even though I’m happy in my apartment here in Paris, I often dream about moving back “home.”

I think about cashing in my chips, taking my little pot of gold, and settling into a cozy home in that place that’s neither south, west, east, or north in the U.S.--but somewhere over the rainbow.

It’s amazing what 100 grand will buy in the ‘Burg. You’ll find decent homes in solid neighborhoods like Observatory Hill, Bellevue, Troy Hill, and Beechview.

These homes are no exceptions. The median price of a home in the Pittsburgh region is $130,000, compared with a national average of $235,000.

Who knows how long house prices will remain so affordable in Pittsburgh, highly ranked for livability for many years, which is one reason it's attracting millenials. One of my favorite neighborhoods, Brookline, saw the highest increase in home prices last year at 8%.

Here's a 7th floor chambre de bonne.
Includes kitchenette, shower, but no elevator.
Toilet? Unclear. Sometimes that’s down the hall.
Sale price: 89,000 euros or about $100,000.

What will $100,000 buy in the Paris area?

French property consultant Adrian Leeds, whose work has been featured on House Hunters International, says this: “There is NOTHING in Paris for 100K except a chambre de bonne,” or a tiny maid’s room at the top of an apartment building.

“Change that to 500K,” Adrian says, “and then we can talk.”

Like this blog post? Then please share! Don't like it? Please comment (nicely).
Want to follow this blog? Enter your email address into the “Follow by email” box.

Rose Marie Burke, an editor and journalist, writes a blog about her personal insights into life in Paris. After 20 years in the City of Light, she still calls her native Pittsburgh "home." You can also find her on LinkedIn, Facebook, or Google+.

High School Graduation in France: Not for Party Animals

Forty years ago this summer I graduated from high school in Pittsburgh, and soon my daughter will do the same in Paris. My senior year ended with a cap-and-gown graduation ceremony (involving a small scandal, read more on that below), parties galore, a class ring, yearbook, high school photos, cards and gifts.

Here in Paris, rien. Nothing.

Instead, the end to high school is marked by the grueling baccalaureate exam for seniors—or “the bac” for short. It’s a marathon of over 10 tests that span two weeks in June, with a few starting in junior year. They consist of written, oral, and practical exams—like lab work or middle-distance sprints for sports.

Exam week officially began Thursday at 8 a.m. Paris time with the infamous four-hour philosophy test, featuring surprise questions. Picture over 700,000 students all over the world sitting with their ink pens and paper at the ready. They open their exam books to choose a question like this: To fight for your rights, is that the same as fighting for your interests? Can people free themselves from their culture ? Explain this text from Foucault : Ultimately, life means being capable of error. …

Class of 2017, anywhere in France

When the exam started my husband—like so many parents here—went online to see the questions, and texted them to me. Newscasts feature students preparing for the exam and interviewing them as they finish. It’s a national event.

Class of 1977, somewhere in Pittsburgh

And it’s a national debate. The bac is a big machine costing taxpayers €1.5 billion a year. The school year for other middle and high schoolers is cut short as teachers are requisitioned to staff the bac. Some teachers specialize in writing the exams, of which there are dozens of variations. There are over 4,000 test centers and 4 million tests to be corrected, by hand!

Seniors focus on the bac to the exclusion of all else. No extracurricular activities, internships, or part-time jobs. At my daughter’s school the yearbook was produced by the juniors, to free up the seniors. Parents hunker down with their children to keep them well fed. There’s no going away for the weekend or on vacation after December.

The new French president wants to trim the bac down to size—to about four exams, with classwork counting toward the degree for the most part. That sounds reasonable, but is a matter of debate. Meanwhile, the parents in my daughter’s class, most of them foreigners like me, have organized a party for our children.

As for the scandal involving my class of '77, we picked “Freebird” by rock band Lynyrd Skynyrd for our class song. It was a bit too much metal for the nuns at our Catholic school. We were banned from playing it during the mass celebrating our graduation. Did we truly think we'd get away with it? You have to admit that the lyrics are rather sweet:

If I leave here tomorrow
Would you still remember me?
For I must be traveling on, now
'Cause there's too many places I've got to see …

Like this blog post? Then please share! Don't like it? Please comment (nicely).
Want to follow this blog? Enter your email address into the “Follow by email” box.

Rose Marie Burke, an editor and journalist, writes a blog about her personal insights into life in Paris. After 20 years in the City of Light, she still calls her native Pittsburgh "home." You can also find her on LinkedIn, Facebook, or Google+.

Paris And Pittsburgh: Together Forever

It’s been a whirlwind political romance for the mayors of Pittsburgh and Paris over the past week. They're getting a lot of "kilometers" out of U.S. President Trump’s line, “I was elected to represent the citizens of Pittsburgh not Paris,” in announcing an American pullout of the Paris Agreement on climate change (go here for more details).

The mayors both evoked the beauty of their cities, both nestled on riverbanks connected by bridges old and new, in a joint opinion article in the New York Times. Both cities have reclaimed their waterfronts, transforming them into parks and transferring traffic out of the city core. Pittsburgh has its Gothic Cathedral of Learning and Paris has the Eiffel Tower, built of iron, the metal that made Pittsburgh famous.


While Ann Hidalgo isn’t the mayor of Pittsburgh and Bill Peduto isn’t the mayor of Paris – and it’s humorous to picture them swapping cities – they say they’re doing right by Pittsburghers and Parisians to abide by the Paris Agreement. Why? Because it will ensure the future health and prosperity of both of their cities.

The motto of Paris is “fluctuat nec mergitur,” tossed by the waves but never sunk. That could be Pittsburgh’s motto too. One city was nearly destroyed by war, and the other by industrial collapse. But visionary leaders led the way to new futures. Let’s hope these fair cities are never sunk by the rising tides of climate change.

Like this blog post? Then please share! Don't like it? Please comment (nicely).
Want to follow this blog? Enter your email address into the “Follow by email” box.

Rose Marie Burke, an editor and journalist, writes a blog about her personal insights into life in Paris. After 20 years in the City of Light, she still calls her native Pittsburgh "home." You can also find her on LinkedIn, Facebook, or Google+.

Bonus:
For the full size of the cartoon above, go to: http://timestribuneblogs.com/john-cole/from-paris-to-pittsburgh/

Trump's Speech: Paris Loves Pittsburgh, And The Feeling Is Mutual

A protestor holds a sign in Berlin (Source: EPA)

World leaders don’t usually mention the words Pittsburgh and Paris in the same breath. But President Trump did that twice in a major speech on Thursday, in announcing a pullout from the Paris climate agreement.

Mr. Trump wanted to show how unconnected Pittsburgh is from Paris. How far they are from one another in physical and political distance. He was trying to “pitt” old-fashioned images of a working-class industrial city against those of a glitzy foreign capital.

I believe my two hometowns have a lot in common—starting with the air we breathe.

“I was elected to represent the citizens of Pittsburgh, not Paris.”
Mr. Trump’s first reference to Pittsburgh has a nice ring to it, but the mayor of Pittsburgh represents its citizens too—and was none too pleased about the speech. Mayor Bill Peduto reacted with his own executive order for Pittsburgh to remain committed to reducing emissions. What’s more, he’s using the media interest that the speech stirred up to dispel old stereotypes: The city of blast furnaces is now a center for robot technology, and the main employers are now health care providers and higher education.

Among those reaching out to the Pittsburgh mayor was the maire of Paris, with a friendly video Tweet, thick French accent and all.

Hi @BillPeduto, #Paris has a message for you and to all the people of #Pittsburgh. #FromParisWithLove #ParisAgreement #Trump pic.twitter.com/GORaseJ40G

— Anne Hidalgo (@Anne_Hidalgo) June 2, 2017

 “It is time to put Youngstown, Ohio, Detroit, Michigan, and Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania, along with many, many other locations within our great country, before Paris, France."
Again, Mr. Trump is giving us a false either/or proposition. The point of the Paris climate agreement is that each country does its part to lower carbon emissions.

What's strange about what Mr. Trump said is that the U.S. scored wins on the way to the Paris agreement, after waffling about climate commitments in the past because it deemed them unfair. So what exactly isn’t fair Mr. Trump? (Read one fact check of Mr. Trump’s speech here.)

I grew up in the Smokey City and worked in the steel mills. The pollution has taken its toll on my family’s health in the form of lung cancer, emphysema, and asthma. I wouldn’t wish the Pittsburgh past for any city’s future.

What Paris and Pittsburgh need and want are clean jobs at living wages, powered by renewable energy--and the jobs that they in turn create. What’s encouraging is that with or without Mr. Trump, the two cities will be working together to stay on that path.

Like this blog post? Then please share! Don't like it? Please comment (nicely).
Want to follow this blog? Enter your email address into the “Follow by email” box.

Rose Marie Burke, an editor and journalist, writes a blog about her personal insights into life in Paris. After 20 years in the City of Light, she still calls her native Pittsburgh "home." You can also find her on LinkedIn, Facebook, or Google+.

Bonus cartoon fro the The New Yorker magazine by Kim Warp with the caption, "We'll always have Pittsburgh":

http://www.newyorker.com/cartoons/daily-cartoon/friday-june-2nd-pittsburgh-trump-climate-casablanca

Love Locks or Love Litter?

Source: AP

The City of Paris just auctioned off about a ton of scrap metal, raising $250,000 for charity.

This was no ordinary junk heap, but 165 parcels of “love locks” that the City of Love stripped from the Pont des Arts in 2015. (See the video here.)

The heavy metal, some 50 tons of it, threatened to ruin the Arts Bridge, a Unesco World Heritage site. City officials worried that lock-laden sheets of the bridge would fall onto the heads of tourists below on the bateaux mouches. That would have been a new kind of guillotine, for which France is also famous.

The love lock auction in Paris

It was a cruel fate for these symbols of eternal love to disappear before they had even had a chance to rust. The auction, however, was a twist of fate, a second life for some of the locks. The city, previously seen as heartless for tearing them down, received hearty publicity for the selling them off in an art-style sale.

The love-lock trend started about a decade ago, but has become a global phenomenon and metallurgical dilemma. Locks are found on the Brooklyn Bridge, the Great Wall of China, near the Millennium Bridge in London and on bridges in Stockholm.

Love locks have even made it to my hometown of Pittsburgh. The city takes a no-nonsense approach, routinely chopping off the locks as it carries out work on its bridges (see a story here).

How did it start? No one knows for sure. But in fact throughout history, it was common for travelers who visited ancient sites—like the Pyramids--to leave their mark. With graffiti.

More often than not today, tourists want to take something, which has led to the whole souvenir industry—itself a French word for memory or remembrance. 

Tourists are still leaving locks around Paris, for example at the Flame of Liberty at the end of the Pont de l’Alma. The weight of the metal threatens to ruin that monument too. The whole thing is making some people so love-lock-sick that they’ve formed an association: No Love Locks.

OK, I get it. Hanging tons of locks from historic sites isn’t exactly sustainable tourism. But, City of Paris, why not channel this romantic energy in the City of Locks by building a monument where tourists are officially encouraged to attest to their love?

Turn Love Litter into Love Art.

Who knows, if locks are recyclable, and recycled once a year through an auction, the whole project could even pay for itself (and then some).  Love Locks Forever!

The annual take-down of the locks isn’t so very romantic, but as we know the bits of metal do tend to get rusty if exposed to harsh conditions for too long. A lot like love.

 

How To Say "Merci" To Mom

Whether you’re in France or the U.S., it’s that time of year again to give thanks to the mom of your life. Over 100 years into the holiday, is it time to think more universally about what it is to be a mother?

Mother’s Day is celebrated today in the U.S. and in most countries of the world. In France, where it’s known as fête des mères, it’s the last Sunday of the month.

The founder of Mother’s Day in the U.S. would be upset with the French version, which is Mothers’ Day in translation. (If you missed the difference, one is a singular “mother” with an apostrophe “s” and the other is a plural “mothers” with an apostrophe. End of grammar lesson!) That’s because Anna Jarvis, who started the commemoration in 1908, wanted us to celebrate our personal “mother,” not “mothers” or motherhood in general.

A typical pasta necklace.
Source: Atout.org

Ms. Jarvis came to hate the commercialism of the day. Instead of buying flowers or presents, in her view people should honor their mothers with a handwritten letter. I personally like to be taken out to dinner, but I’m open to cleaning, laundry, and window-washing too!


In France, according to French blogger Clotilde Dusoulier, “children usually craft some kind of project at school for their maman — most iconically, un collier de pâtes, a necklace made of dried pasta — and graduate to buying her flowers, chocolates, or beauty products when they are older.” Hmm. Somehow my teenage daughter hasn’t yet graduated out of the dried pasta stage.

Sorry Ms. Jarvis, I see nothing wrong about using the holiday to reflect on what motherhood means in this day and age.

The Pittsburgh Post-Gazette today is running a story about Christie Pham, who lost her mom at 17, and now commemorates Mother’s Day by performing random acts of kindness.

Source: Pinterest.

In “The Birth of The Mother,” The New York Times today published an article by Dr. Alexandra Sacks saying that the becoming a mother in medical terms is largely unexplored territory, and argues for greater understanding of post-partum depression, and other psychological issues that grip women.

That’s not to deflate the role of fathers or grandparents, or aunt and uncles—teachers too--who may not have children but devote countless hours to child care. Now that’s the way to build a “maternal" instinct. Happy Mother’s Day to you too!

Believe it or not, it’s become trendy to affectionately tag these people as “moms” on social media. If a handwritten note is not going to happen, why not log on and reach out each #mom or #mere in your life to say thank you.
 
Rose Marie Burke, an editor and journalist, writes a blog about her personal insights into life in Paris. After many years in the City of Light, she still calls her native Pittsburgh "home." Want to follow this blog? Enter your email address into the “Follow me” box. Or find me on LinkedIn, Facebook, or Google+.

New President, New Era?

Macron supporter at last night's celebration in Paris.
Source: AP, Francois Mori.

Last night we hunkered down in front of the TV set at 7:45 p.m. in anticipation of the historic moment. At 8 p.m. sharp, the polls were going to close in France, and the name of the new president was going to be announced. (Until then, the country imposes a media blackout.)

I felt a hush fall over France as the countdown proceeded: 3 … 2 … 1 … 

It was like watching the countdown on New Year’s Eve, or a countdown to blast-off. Would this be the beginning of an era? Or a countdown to catastrophe? I wedged myself on the sofa between my daughter and husband for moral and physical support.

And then the winner was announced: Emmanuel Macron. The 39-year-old leader of the brand-new party, En Marche!, won by a wide margin with 66% of the votes against the National Front’s Marine Le Pen. However, Macron was weak in rust-belt areas of France like Pittsburgh that have suffered from the decline of manufacturing. And a high number of voters didn't cast their ballots.

For us, as foreigners here in France, it was a relief. For me, who works in the world of finance, it was a relief. And for those who believe that the European Union is (generally) a good thing, it was a relief.

But it won’t be easy for the new president, who takes office in a few weeks. Macron has to build a cabinet and start campaigning for legislative elections. It’s uncertain whether the French people will give him a strong mandate to govern by electing En Marche! representatives.

Macron posters
in our neighborhood

I frankly don’t know much about Macron, but most people don't. He's new to the game and didn’t have much chance to win until the top candidate on the right became tainted by scandal. (Because Macron is so young, he doesn’t yet have a political past!) He’s by all accounts smart, reasonable, and likeable. Just a few days ago, one of his campaign workers handed me his program, a 32-page booklet of campaign promises. Many of them seem, again, reasonable. (By the way, all serious French candidates publish a “programme.” Good idea, U.S.!)

Regarding education, one area where I feel half-way competent to comment, Macron promises access to special needs assistants in schools to all children who need them, which is sorely needed. This in a country where special education is rare and where the educational system is in general denial about special needs. France is definitely behind the U.S. here, which made education a right for special needs children in 1975.

What I like most about Macron is his optimism and genuine love of France. It’s so refreshing in this great country that’s often mired in negativism.

With the election of Macron, I’m hoping that France will enter a new era of economic growth that lifts all boats. And I hope that last night’s blast-off won’t end in catastrophic failure but instead show the country new horizons.

Rose Marie Burke, an editor and journalist, writes a blog about her personal insights into life in Paris. After 20 years in the City of Light, she still calls her native Pittsburgh "home." Want to follow this blog? Enter your email address into the “Follow me” box. Or find me on LinkedIn, Facebook, or Google+.