Autumn in Paris

This is my first post since I've returned to Paris! Good news: I'm settled back in and am busier than I was last term. Bad news: I'm still somewhat low on the friend count. But in spite of that, I took myself to Notre Dame on a beautiful autumnal day to appreciate exactly what is round the corner from where I work. Click here through to my Paris page for more photos...

Role Models

This is overdue but I've been talking about it a lot with my students recently: role models. Who do you look up to? Who inspires you? Well, I'm pretty sure the words coming out of your mouth in recent months will not be 'Miley Cyrus'. Yep, that's right, this post is tackling that issue.

I'll admit that I'm a little isolated out here and I'm not too clued up on what's going on in the outside world. But when I heard about the VMAs which seemed to be the start of this 'spiral' (downward or not, you decide for yourself) for Cyrus, I was genuinely shocked. I mean, okay I know I'm only 20 years old and maybe I'm being a prude but I have been genuinely quite astounded at the way it has become pretty much accepted for celebrities, particularly female celebrities, to parade around wearing next-to-nothing. Add to the mix the completely inappropriate touching of oneself (and others), which is televised and in front of an audience, and I'm not really sure what one wants to accomplish. Apart from losing respect... Oh, and selling records.

Perhaps I'm overlooking something blindingly obvious here, but as a girl close to Miley's age, I can't think of a reason why she believes filming music videos like "Wrecking Ball" and taking photos like the Terry Richardson pictures are a good thing. Maybe she's proud of her body? Great, good for her, because she is hot and her body is amazing- but you can show it off in other ways than just taking off your clothes. Sadly, that music video was actually moving and I love the song, but she completely lost me when it flicked to her naked body rubbing over a wrecking ball. Thanks- but no thanks.

A student said to me the other day: "I don't know how I feel, because have you actually watched her interviews? I can't judge her as harshly after watching them." No, I haven't watched them. Maybe I should because I genuinely don't know her side to all of this, and I will admit that. Apparently in one of these interviews she said that she was showing fans how she was baring herself to them, and not hiding anything. So... How do you explain licking a sledgehammer then? 

I am a bit of a feminist, and you could say that that it is Cyrus' right to be able to express herself in the way that she wants. But actually, I don't agree. I never thought it was possible to revert feminism so far, or to literally embody so openly female sexual stereotypes. I understand that she wants to break away from her Disney image, and I can understand why. But when I look at people like Selena Gomez (who seems to have done so seamlessly), I can't see that as a genuine reason for her actions. It is in part due to her Disney image that she has a fanbase to begin with, and what she seems to have forgotten is that some of them are young. Thrusting sex into their faces- excuse the pun- is telling a countless number of teenagers that, to be sexy, to be desirable, to be successful, you must take your clothes off, and you must throw your sexuality into everyone else's faces, particularly men's.

Whether or not celebrities choose to be role models, I think what has to be realised is that they are. Like it or not, if you're famous, people know you- they know what you do, how you act, how you dress, and you have influence over others, regardless of whether you want to. So whilst it may still be their life, for millions of teenagers out there, celebrities are idols, and inspirations, and will guide their actions, thoughts, and looks. That's a huge responsibility.

Perhaps I'm misjudging this girl; after all I don't know her, or her real reasons for what she's done- I only know what she's chosen to show the world (which is pretty much every inch of her body). But put it this way, if that were me, I don't think I could name a single person- including myself- who would be proud of me. And I certainly couldn't name anyone who I would want to look up to me.

Home Sweet Home

The phrase ‘home is where the heart is’ might be a sickening cliché but I have never felt this is more true than when I came home from France for the first time in six weeks. Everything, from my own bed and working internet, to the view of the countryside and my animals, is something I always try not to take advantage of, but is something I wholeheartedly appreciated after being away for a while.

The transformation since I’ve left is really quite dramatic. No more are the full green trees, the luscious grass, and the colourful flower beds; in fact it seems like the magic has gone a bit (NB: this has nothing to do with your beautiful gardening mum, I blame the weather entirely!). That is until I get inside, curl up next to the fire in a blanket on a real sofa as the nights draw in. And then suddenly I see everything with this warm glow as I appreciate just how lucky I am.

A rare moment of nice weather to see the sunset from my room

There was an abundance of home-cooked meals which were incredible, particularly the apple crumbles (with our own apples I might add), so thanks mum! And I was greeted with a gorgeous Victoria sponge that mum had baked for me as a welcome home munch. Needless to say, I’m eating less now I’m back in France to compensate for all of those goodies!

Obviously being at home again meant I basically jumped on Toffee, who was barely able to give me the ‘who are you?’ look this time. I feel so bad, I’m not a horse and I’m under no impression that he thinks like that really. But I do know that being away like this is not doing my bond with him any good, and he is a pony who really does benefit from a horse-rider bond. Worse still, as soon as he gets remotely used to me again, I’ll be jetting off back to Paris. Heartbreaking. But I took him out for a hack by myself in the second week, and I have never felt so happy galloping across the fields on him. It was utterly fantastic and he is a super pony.

Welcome Home!

I managed to get up north to see my grandparents as well. They haven’t seen me for quite a long time, and I haven’t been able to get their calls in France so I haven’t spoken to them either. We have written several letters but it is still difficult because I do miss them a lot. Living so far away from them really sucks too. I would love to be that granddaughter who could just pop over to their house for a cup of tea, I wouldn’t even mind if it was an hour away; but it’s three and that’s rubbish. I am so grateful that we were able to see them before I returned to France.

This post wouldn’t be complete without mentioning that I also met up with my lovely friends. It was as if we had never been apart and after we had a brief catch up about work and our placements, we proceeded to catch up on all of the gossip and drama in our lives. It was over too quickly, and I miss them all already.

There really is nothing like home, and nothing like the things you know, the life you know. But I suppose what I have to remember is that things which are unknown to me now, could actually be some of the best things in my life one day. So whilst I don’t want to go back to France, and I don’t want to leave home, I must remember the opportunities and experiences which present themselves and for which I will probably be as thankful for in the future as I am thankful for the life I already have. 

Puss in Boots eyes as I have never seen them before- she saw me packing