Today, I arrived in Singapore to continue my work in the Fulbright Program, the laudable mission of which is to advance mutual understanding between the people of the United States and the people of other countries in the world.  Having just returned from my trip to France to visit our newborn Rose Valley, however, I find my mind returning to the experience that my wife and I had while applying for recognition of her birth abroad as a U.S. citizen at the American Embassy in Paris.

What we saw

Since my wife and I were there for one of the “American Citizen Services”, we were fast-tracked for our appointment, crossing in front of the line of people waiting outside in what had been freezing rain earlier that morning.  When we entered the public services area of the Embassy, we were impressed with the unified front the operation presents to all visitors.  When you arrive, you take a number based on the service that brings you to the Embassy.  The waiting room is essentially one large space with numbered customer service windows lining three sides of the white and oak-colored room.  The Embassy staff remains separated from the public at all times, either behind the thick protective glass at stations that are in service, or behind drab green lowered blinds at the stations that are closed.  Individual liquid sanitizer dispensers stand as sentries at the sides of each individual window, giving one the impression that the U.S. Embassy staff is extremely concerned about germs on the side of the windows where members of the public–largely non-Americans–sit awaiting their turns.

After submitting our documents, I paid the service fees and returned to wait with my wife for the processing.  Over the loudspeaker, a young man on the Embassy staff called “D901”, and slowly an elderly lady with white hair and a gray sweater made her way to the thick protective glass between the sanitizer sentries.  I heard her name at one point, but let’s just call her Mary for now.  When she spoke English, we got the sense that French may be Mary’s first language. Still, she carried a blue American passport and was apparently there for assistance from the American Citizen Services personnel.  From this, I presume–although I do not know–that she may be an American citizen.  Mary’s voice sounded a bit lost and desperate, and she pleaded with the young man that she had been there since 9 AM (it was two and a half hours later) and that she needed to complete her business and leave.  Without looking up from her documents, he stated in a monotone voice that she had not come with the documents complete, so her processing was delayed (the implication seemed to be that it was not the fault of the Embassy, and therefore, not a concern of the Embassy).  The conversation went on for a few minutes, and when the elderly lady turned to go, a tear was streaming down her cheek.

After Mary had shuffled back to her seat, my wife told me the rest of her story.  Before speaking with this young man on the Embassy staff, Mary had first visited the brunette Embassy staff member who was working at Window 15.  This member of the staff was still standing on the other side of the window in her glasses, tan blazer, and hanging heart necklace that looked like jade, but conspicuously, wearing nothing resembling a smile whether there were guests at her counter or not.  My wife had overheard Mary explaining to her that she was confused by the paperwork and that she needed help in completing it.  To this request for help, my wife heard the Embassy staff member respond, “I’m not your secretary.”  Mary sat down to try to complete the documents on her own, but still not understanding, she had returned to speak with the lady again.  “I didn’t call your number” was the repeated rebuff until Mary once again sat down.  After hearing the full story, I started to get a sense of why she may be in tears after her experience with the Embassy staff.

Why it matters

I admit that I have no idea what Mary wanted to accomplish yesterday at the American Embassy, but it also doesn’t really matter.  Especially in diplomacy, it would seem to be the perception that counts.  If the Embassy’s callous and bureaucratic view of the human beings who walk through their door is apparent to us on a casual visit for a happy purpose (getting recognition for a baby), what is the experience of those who are in trouble?  How many customers like Mary walk through the doors of the U.S. Embassy in Paris every day?  Perhaps most importantly, if Mary is a U.S. citizen, and received the benefit of fast-tracking through the line of others standing in the rain, how are visa-seekers treated at the windows for non-Americans on the other side of the room?

You might think that it is just a fact of life that people who work in difficult customer service roles and face communication barriers on a daily basis sadly, but predictably, develop the habit of treating people like numbers as a matter of course.  For those of us who are the face of the American people abroad, however, this cannot be the answer.  When my Army National Guard unit was deployed in support of the Multinational Force & Observers peacekeeping mission in Egypt a few years ago, our infantry battalion took a proactive stance in seeking and maintaining good relations with the local people with whom we came in contact.  We knew–and we trained our soldiers to understand–that our actions would be imputed to Americans everywhere in the minds and memories of the local people.  Even more so, in the Fulbright program, I take my interactions with local people very seriously and do my best to build the bridge for mutual understanding that is my core mission as a Fulbrighter.  I also have no doubt that the vast majority of our dedicated foreign service personnel also accept the weight of their diplomatic roles with the gravitas such responsibility requires.  Still, this is just not enough.  We may recognize the importance of the work we do as Americans engaging with people from other cultures on behalf of our nation, but we also have to let that recognition form the basis of every interaction–especially those involving people abroad who may be seeing the face of America for the first time as they walk into the Embassy.  With so complex and challenging an international relations environment as our national leadership faces today, it would be tragic if we were to allow ourselves to become lost in strategic diplomatic concerns while alienating those who could have been friends–if only we had shared a smile and a bit of understanding at the Embassy window, one guest at a time.  I think that is where the real diplomacy is done.

Why not just contact the U.S. Embassy in Paris directly?

Well, primarily because their website indicates that reporting a concern like the above does not justify a response from the Embassy personnel.  As of the moment I am writing this, the website of the U.S. Embassy in Paris says the following on its “Contact Us” page under “Non-Emergency Issues”:

“You may write to the American Citizen Services e-mail boxes which are monitored weekdays during business hours.  Please note that we only reply to questions that cannot be answered by referring to the American Citizen Services website pages; we do not answer French or U.S. visa questions from these email boxes”  (http://france.usembassy.gov/contact.html; emphasis has been added).

Reading the statement literally (as I imagine non-native English speakers serious about following our Embassy’s requirements likely would), the statement says that the ONLY submissions to which the Embassy staff will respond are questions, and of those, only the questions that cannot be answered by reviewing the website.  Presumably, that means that many email submissions are simply ignored, including questions people ask after repeatedly viewing the website but overlooking the answer to a question (while the Embassy staff knows it is there).  More significantly, that would also seem to indicate that any suggestions for improvement of the experience of those who come to the Embassy hoping to greet the smiling face of the American people will simply go unanswered.

Some parting thoughts

I spent some time today considering whether to write about this topic this week since my purpose here in Singapore is to help build mutual understanding between the Singaporean and American peoples.  Although this is my personal blog and in no way an official publication of the Fulbright Program, the U.S. State Department, or any other entity, I do try to chose topics that fit within the specific part of the Fulbright mission with which I have been entrused.  At some point today, however, it occurred to me that telling this story does fit within that mission, and perhaps is essential to it.  Bureaucracy is difficult to overcome everywhere in the world, and the dedicated Americans who make it their business to get up each day and face a challenging public across cultural and linguistic barriers are patriots who belong in the discussions of our nation’s heroes in uniform.  This post is not an attack on the hard work and dedication of our foreign service workers, but rather an offer of perspective from the other side of the glass and sterilizer sentries.  This is the perspective that we as Americans rarely see, and that the foreign public may not have the words or patience to share with us as feedback.  I offer these thoughts this week in the hope that we may consider our diplomatic efforts and recall the words of Senator Fulbright at the fortieth anniversary of the Fulbright Program:

“Perhaps the greatest power of such intellectual exchange is to convert nations into peoples and to translate ideologies into human aspirations” (cited at http://eca.state.gov/fulbright/about-fulbright/history/j-william-fulbright/j-william-fulbright-quotes).

Taking this admirable worldview into a new time and place, perhaps the management and staff of the U.S. Embassy in Paris could take a moment to step back from the challenging mission they face to focus instead for a moment on the individual at the counter, asking them for help.  Perhaps we could all use a little more “smile” diplomacy.

At any rate, this is my hope for this discussion of what we saw while waiting for our turn at the U.S. Embassy in Paris.  As for our own experience at the Embassy, well, that is a story for another time.

R

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