Becoming French: A Series

Part One: Liberty, Fraternity...and Equality

”Qui est le chef dans votre couple? our teacher asked (as he pointed to) the man from Australia sitting beside me.

“My girlfriend,” the man replied in English.

“Pourquoi est-elle le chef?” our teacher asked.

“Because she’s French!” the man responded quickly, and the class giggled a little as the eyebrows of our teacher met his hairline.

“And you?” the teacher asked in French, pointing to the man from Mali sitting across the room from me. “Who is the boss in your relationship?” When the man shared that he is not married, the teacher asked if he was married who would be the boss. The Malian man looked confused and said, “I would be the boss, of course.”

“And why would you be the boss?” probed the teacher.

“Because I’m the man,” the man responded. I could feel the class bristle before I heard the responses from around the room.

“Why are you asking us this question?” the man from Tunisia asked, and our teacher turned the man’s question into a question of his own… “And you?” The Tunisian responded that the boss role is shared in his relationship.

Just a few months before this moment, I was summoned to the OFII office (the French Office for Immigration and Integration) where I was processed with all of the others from around the world and corralled into a room with very little explanation. We were given a written French test on the spot, then called into rooms one-by-one for a verbal test to assess our language level.

France is one of the countries that requires all of its citizens to speak and write French at a B1 level to gain citizenship.

My journey as an “etranger” (foreigner) in France began about five years ago when I began visiting Paris during my travels. I visited Paris for the very first time in 2009 and felt a strong sense of irrational nostalgia, falling madly in-love with all things French instantly. My first stays were within the strict Schengen Visa rules of 90 days in and 90 days out, and it became clear to me quickly that I wanted to have the option to stay longer so I applied for my first Long Stay Visa as a visitor. This request was rejected midway through the process because my finances were not sufficient at the time.

At the time, there were three main ways that a person could quality and apply for a visa: a long stay visa based on the person’s ability to not work for one year and sustain themselves financially, a student visa with the intention and proof of being a full time student, or an employment visa which usually accompanies a contract from the company hiring the person in France.

It took reapplying after sorting a few things and creating the big dossier (the French are known for requiring big applications full of many papers/documents) to receive my first Long Stay Visa just before Covid which granted me a full year in Paris. This year expired just as the pandemic was in full swing, and all of the offices stopped processing extensions and additional visas - my status was officially on hold.

Within this holding pattern time, and just as I was beginning to let a little bit of disenchantment in regarding my stay in Paris…I fell in love with a French man.

And I learned very quickly that this is the fourth way you can ‘instantly’ qualify for a special family visa.

Just before the year ended last year, I found myself in a stark classroom in the 18eme arrondissement bound by a contract with France to participate in four required “civic days” which held me on a straight path to nationality.

Our teacher, Najib, an immigrant himself from Morocco, was nearly 30-minutes late on this first civic day. One of the first lessons you learn in France, about being French, is: do as I say, not as I do. (We were instructed by letter not to be late on these days under any circumstance, and missing our assigned days was only permissible with proof of a plane ticket or letter from an employer.)

Second lesson: things rarely start on time in Paris, and public transportation is often the common reason.

The answer Najib was looking for when he probed us was that the responsibility is shared between men and women in relationship; equality is important here.

These civic days are filled with robust information on the four topics which help each of us to be become residents: santé, emploi, parentalité et logement (health, employment, parenting and housing).

Learning that all children are required by law to be in crèche (daycare) at the age of three breaks my heart…

There is something really humbling and poetic about being an immigrant. I’ll share more about this in detail in a future post in this series, but for now it feels important to share that France is incredibly generous to all people in the world who want to become a citizen. And, being in this room with people from Peru, Scotland, Tunisia, Mali, Bangladesh, Russia, England, Turkey, Philippines, Wales, Australia, and one other American from Texas…felt like an incredible privilege.

Our translator on this day was born in Australia and speaks sixteen languages including several dialects from places I’ve never heard of…an immigrant herself, she is now a citizen and in service to France volunteering on these civic days to help other immigrants understand the process.

There is no official religion here (more on this later in this series), la France is a “she”, the national anthem was a war song originally, liberté, fraternité et égalité (liberty, fraternity and equality) are the fundamental principles of France, and Marianne…beloved Marianne…well, I’ll save her for part two.

I’m suddenly on the fast track to becoming French…in an official way, but it feels like I’ve been becoming French for many years now.