I’m almost embarrassed to admit how often my life resembles a Real Emily in Paris episode. My life has always been like this. I’ve always been privileged with access. At twenty-four, whilst working for Louis Vuitton, I had the privilege of staying overnight at a literal Chateau in the French countryside. The couple that owned the chateau were descendants of the French aristocracy, and they had photos of the royal family all throughout. The couple was adamant that I sleep in The Queen’s room. Now I’m not gone talk about how many flies were in that room, because it was an exquisite room, nonetheless. I have countless similar stories of opportunities that I’ve been granted, tables I’ve sat at, and events I’ve been invited to which speak to a certain privilege I’ve enjoyed all my life.
Fast forward to my life in Paris and nothing has changed. I am very fortunate that I have never felt that I was denied opportunities due to the color of my skin. I’m not saying that racism and prejudice are non-existent in Paris. I’m saying that I don’t believe Black Americans experience systemic racism and prejudice. In fact I would argue that Black Americans are privileged in Paris vis a vis our home country.
I read a comment on Instagram where a woman commented that she fell in love with Paris whilst visiting, and that she eventually wanted to move here. In the end she decided against it due to France’s history with colonialism and systemic racism.