With the forecast announcing another layer of snow followed by yet another wave of polar cold, I’ve decided to head to the sun—to Casablanca, to be precise—to attend a conference organized by our partners at the Mission Laïque française. I’ve never been to Casablanca, even though the name inevitably evokes the film of the same name, one of my favorites, in which the city doesn’t really feature; it serves above all as a symbol of history set ablaze, a city brimming with refugees desperately waiting for the next flight to Lisbon, the final stop on the way to America and freedom.
The stated objective of the seminar—whose tightly packed schedule means I probably won’t have the time to discover the real Casablanca—is to propose a model of international French education and, within that framework, to examine the shifts required in French education; to address the issues of global and local citizenship; and to reflect on new forms of accreditation that might better reflect the work of French schools overseas—particularly those in the US, whose modes of operation already diverge from the traditional French model. It will be especially fascinating to exchange with colleagues working in other parts of the world—and, of course, in Morocco—where the weight of history and the relationship with France take on very different meanings from what they do here.
I will get to meet fellow heads of school from all over the world. Many of them work in countries with difficult, even dangerous, conditions, where schools, but perhaps French schools more than others, represent an essential opportunity for the students who attend them, from the quality and rigor of what is taught to the avenues that open up afterward. Four years ago, when I attended a similar gathering, colleagues couldn’t quite suppress an appreciative/incredulous whistle when they read New York on my badge. (“How do you land New York?”) The US continues to inspire admiration drawn in part from movies (I wrote about my own American dream here). In Casablanca, America represents a bastion of liberty untouched by the war, a distant and imagined dream—even though Rick, the disillusioned American protagonist, has no desire to return home. Just as Casablanca is built on makeshift sets, America is a symbol, a need, an ideal. It embodies a certain vision of the world.
The world, however, is in flux, and these reference points are shifting. If we are not careful, our French education system, so often described by politicians as an instrument of soft power of the highest importance, albeit one that comes in for criticism at home, could lose its place as an attractive vision of the world to come. I’m really looking forward to participating in these discussions, to hearing from the various speakers, and to contributing, in my own way, to the perpetuation of an ambitious and exemplary French education system. It seems to me that The École is a remarkable example of what can be achieved in the field.
So I am heading off to warmer climes with stars in my eyes, to reunite with Rick, Ilsa, and Viktor Laszlo. I will see you all next Friday, on the eve of the holidays, with my suitcases full of new ideas and projects.