French Crawl was born right at the cusp of the Paris Olympics. My collection of loose writings and videos was in need of a home, so I launched the site in the Spring of 2024. It coincided with my planning for the Games, which turned into deciphering French and the security issues mysteriously surrounding the games. So I decided to make a guide, which others started to find.

Édition No. 2

That led to me making more videos around navigating what was one of the largest events Paris has ever hosted over several months. One I had spent years dreaming about and taking French classes to prepare for. For all the grandeur it was the smaller moments that made the Games for me. Meeting, interacting, and talking with various people from volunteers to loved ones of competitors who were up in the stands alongside the rest of us.  It is a human affair after all.

It also opened my eyes up to other aspects of France's culture, the one that is in flux. While learning textbook French helped me develop a foundation, it was the language in the streets that opened my eyes to the gatekeepers. And it was just as interesting as what was happening on the various fields and arenas around the country.

Paris 2024 Olympics Closing Ceremony

On the final night I stood in Stade de France and watched the medal ceremony for the women's marathon, which Sifan Hassan won gold for. It was a stunning display of color as so many nations stood around the platform, as though Babel had reconvened. Yet France deals with issues of race in more nuanced ways, often described as colorblind, something so foreign coming from a hyphenated place. I held the thoughts in each hand. It was so much more than my original goal of learning French again to order a coffee competently.

During the Opening Ceremony, I stood on Pont de la Tournelle, looking at the backside of Notre Dame and all her scaffolding. Beneath the crowd, a small boat continued along the Seine, a small Olympic flag perched above. It was the IOC Refugee Olympic Team. It reminded me of my family, boat people themselves, refugees at one point. What a moment for them, I thought. I'd imagine it was something Pierre de Coubertin would have been proud of.