ayo deforge

The acknowledgement of race to improve lives and livelihood in France’s Black communities. In France, race is taboo and immigration a hot potato. These are two of the first lessons I learnt upon relocating back to the country in 2012. The French Republic is officially “color blind” because the law bans the collection of data on race, ethnicity and religion, asserting the idea that all citizens are equal and free from these distinctions. This practice dates back to the Holocaust, when the Vichy regime singled out Jews for deportation to Nazi concentration camps. Today, the reality is that France’s color-blind policy doesn’t only make it blind to race but to racism as well.  As one would expect, the national political debate around immigration is fraught. There’s hardly any election where immigration—particularly as it relates to Africans and Middle Easterners—does not take a front seat. Emigration, on the other hand, does not get as much publicity as immigration. It is known that Fr...

Photo courtesy of Sora Shimazaki I was ten when my breasts started to develop. I remember feeling ashamed when the small bumps became noticeable underneath my school uniform. During that time, I used to play with the kids in the neighborhood after school, staging wrestling and pillow fights and organizing football and running matches. As my shape changed, I became self-conscious and stopped playing with the neighborhood kids, who were mostly boys. I began wearing loose-fitting shirts and isolating myself indoors after school.  I wasn’t happy when I had to give up my colorful training bras for adult ones. At my all-girls school, my sense of shame was profound, as I developed breasts earlier than everyone else. I felt embarrassed every time one of my classmates jokingly undid my bra. It happened a lot to those of us who started wearing hooked bras early.  I was mortified when my first period came and stained my light blue school uniform. I remember wishing it had started at home...