My friend (whom I’ll call G) has lived in Paris most of her life, except for a recent six-year sojourn in Houston. Over the Christmas break, she and her children returned to Texas for two weeks, and her four-year-old (whom I’ll call S) returned to American ways. S knows that no matter how democratic America says it is, the children there rule like kings and queens.
A combination of jet-lag, fatigue, restlessness, (and perhaps French baguette-withdrawal symptoms) caused S to throw some tantrums during their vacation. Time-outs are hard to manage in the middle of Wal-Mart or Starbucks, and corporal punishment is as socially unacceptable in the U.S. as loud noise in cafes would be in France. So S sometimes got away with things in the Wild West.
Once they boarded their plane, though, the rules changed. S started to whimper over a petty grievance, the wrong color cup or a broken cracker. G could see he was gearing up for a scene. “No more tantrums,” she told him. “We’re on Air France.” So what? he said with his face.
“We’re in France now,” she explained, even though they would spend the next ten hours in limbo between countries. “That means I can spank you and nobody will tell me not to.” S quieted, his foot-stomping, nay-saying machine turned off just by the threat of discipline, a la francaise.
Tantrums are so infrequent in France there isn’t even a specific word for them. People use the word crise, which means crisis.
The French are more physical, in general. Friends, male or female, kiss each other hello and goodbye. Children push and shove and grab and kick, and their parents don’t tell them not to, according to my daughter. If you ask whether children are better behaved here, she will say, “To adults maybe, but not to each other.”
Even though I live in France, I don’t think I could ever bring myself to hit a child. I’m still squeamish about kissing people, too. But I like the idea of quiet cafes. I’m even more tempted by the prospect of a silent flight, all children “sage comme des images,” still as pictures. Next time, I’m flying Air Frace.
Great post – I think Finnish discipline is somewhere in-between!
Thanks for reading, Kristina. There’s a whole spectrum out there, I suspect!
Really interesting observation. I hadn’t thought of that — next time I’m in France or on an Air France flight I’ll look around for this. I think I’d find it creepy to have a flight with no sound of kid whining at all, although of course it is very easy to have too much.
I’ll remember that French way of describing a tantrum: “crise!”
The last flight I took I sat next to a woman with a toddler on her lap who didn’t sleep all night. That was extreme, but I agree, a little kid sound can be sweet.