the personal is political,

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The moment the ceremony ended, just as we began basking in the miracle of transformation, functionaries shooed us on to the street. I later learnt that though ours was the first-ever group to become French in the Panthéon, we were only the warm-up act. The next group got live music, and one of them, a 25-year-old Chilean named David, made a speech about being taken hostage by terrorists attacking the Bataclan nightclub in November 2015. One terrorist had asked, “What do you think of François Hollande?” and David replied, “I don’t think anything, I’m not French.” When the terrorist discovered he was Chilean, recalled David, “I sensed a loss of interest, something that disconnected in his glance.” That saved his life. He decided to become French anyway.

By this time, my family was celebrating over croissants in a nearby café. They were now French-American dual citizens. I interviewed them about their feelings. My daughter said, “I don’t feel different at all. I just feel that it’s a waste of time while he’s checking the sound system.” I told her that in a century, her great-grandchildren in Rio or Sofia would be desperately searching her papers for her certificate of naturalisation.