"To borrow an image from Rummo's poetry: the flow dwindles into a fuggy condom."
Umm...?
Thursday, March 3, 2011
Wednesday, March 2, 2011
Narva- Estonia's forgotten city?
If you know any small bit of Estonian culture, you probably know this: Estonia is about a quarter ethnically Russian, and the Russians and Estonians don't always get along. (Let me note right now that when I refer to "Russians" in this post, I refer to people who are ethnically Russian but living in Estonia.)
I'll first try to give an overview of the situation, and I'll attempt to be as objective as possible. A lot of the political conflict about Russians in Estonia has stemmed from the fact that when Estonia "re-established" (note this word, it's important) its independence in 1991, it only offered citizenship to those who could verify that they or their ancestors lived in Estonia before World War II. The argument was that Estonia was an independent country that was illegally occupied by the Soviet Union as a result of the Malatov-Ribbentrop Pact. To simplify the argument, since Estonia was never legally Soviet, settlers from the rest of the Soviet Union were illegal immigrants who were not automatically entitled to an Estonian passport. Many Russians were granted citizenship- there had been a fairly large group of religious refugees living in Estonia prior to the war. But those who settled in Estonia under the Sovietization policy during the illegal occupation needed to be naturalized. To become naturalized, you needed to speak Estonian. Most Russians didn't and thus became stateless. They were, however, given EU citizenship when Estonia acceded to the EU, and they have a grey passport which allows them to travel. Any permanent resident is given access to social services and can vote in local elections.
Estonia was initially criticized for making its naturalization test unnecessarily difficult, but has since changed the exam. Most of the Russian criticism I have heard of the citizenship policy is based on the idea that Russians are second-class citizens (if they are citizens at all). I've also heard several complaints of discrimination against the Russians, but haven't seen any hard facts about it. It's difficult, in any case, to quantify what is discrimination: Are you not being hired because the employer doesn't like Russians, or could it possibly be because you don't adequately speak the country's national language?
My heart goes out to the Estonians. The Soviet Occupation was brutal in so many ways. A couple days ago, I had dinner with a woman whose grandma had been deported to Siberia as an 11-year-old. She didn't finally return to Estonia until she was 26. Some Estonians I've met are unnecessarily combative when discussing the Russians, but I think most are just looking to move forward. If you respect that you are in Estonia, you learn the language, and you will be ok in their eyes. I'm not sure all of the Russians accord adequate respect to Estonia's independence, and I think they should be a little more willing to meet Estonians halfway. (A few girls I know who work retail have told stories of Russians throwing fits at her for not being able to speak Russian, for example.)
My heart goes out to the Russians as well. Though Estonia is a very nice place to live, I haven't gathered that the situation was that many people packed up and moved here because it was finally their right as a Soviet. Many were moved here somewhat forcibly (depending on who you talk to) because the Soviet Union wanted to try to dilute the local population and because the Soviets didn't trust Estonians working in certain industries. Many of the Russians in Tallinn still live in the huge dour cement blocks the Soviets called apartment buildings. These Russians were largely victims of the Soviet Union as well, and I don't think many Estonians accord adequate respect to that. These effects still linger- even today, educational attainment, unemployment, drug usage, HIV infection rates (etc) are all disproportionately high among Russians.
My assessments of what it is like to be Russian in Estonia had been shaped by one key fact: I live in a city that is reasonably mixed. Tallinn is roughly 40% Russian. Public education is available both in Russian and Estonian. Some university courses are available locally in Russian as well. Most Russians I have encountered do speak Estonian. After all, they are exposed to it on a daily basis. The economy is very dynamic, and I think the situation here is such that you can go far if you learn Estonian.
I learned, however, you can't adequately assess the situation of the Russians in Estonia without going to Narva. The city has, in short, been left behind both by the Soviets and by the Estonians, and I think it is further dragged down by well-meaning EU minority protection policies.
Narva, the last city on the northern coast before you enter Russia, was once a beautiful and important trading city. However, 98% of the city was destroyed during World War II. Those who inhabited the city prior to World War II (about 65% of whom were Estonian) were never allowed to return because the Soviets planned to open a secret uranium processing plant and close the city to the outside world. The factory was built in a nearby town, but the initial plans solidified Narva's current position as a city that is about 95% Russian. The industries that sustained the city have been in decline ever since Estonia gained independence. Without the Soviet Union, many of these factories simply closed. Many left Narva. Many more would like to leave, but face structural impediments to doing so.
As an EU member, Estonia is obliged to offer primary and secondary education in a person's mother tongue. It is of course a well-intended policy. But in effect, it has meant that many in Narva simply never learn Estonian adequately. Though some opportunities exist to receive a university education in Russian, students have a limited range of subjects. In practice, it is very difficult to attend an Estonian university without learning Estonian. Furthermore, Estonia is such a small country that it is difficult to imagine it will base much of its economy on manufacturing in the future.
The thing that seemed so odd to me about Narva was that, if you were deaf, you would not necessarily have any way of knowing that you were in a Russian-speaking city. Street signs are all in Estonian. I passed the Town Hall, and noticed the signage, including the opening hours, were also only in Estonian. Fair(ish), I guess, since these are all provided by the Estonian government. However, I went grocery shopping, and all of the signs were ALSO in Estonian. Now, I've lived in enough countries to know that the first words you learn are hello, goodbye, please, thank you, numbers, and food items. I'm sure if you live in Narva, you manage somehow. It still seems like such bad business though. If you're in a city that's 97% Russian speaking, and you run a grocery store, wouldn't you WANT to print labels in a language people actually read? In a country where citizenship and success means learning Estonian, Russian-only public education seems almost cruel. Then to have all signs in Estonian on top of that... Truth be told, it seems almost like a middle finger to the city's inhabitants. I'm so hesitant to pick sides on this. I understand that Estonians suffered decades of occupation and don't want to validate it by making their invaders' language official. I firmly believe that, while it's important culturally to keep your language, it is equally important to learn the language of whatever country you live in. Though I can say that I see why those in Narva might feel as though they've been left behind.
My photos are available here. They were all taken in Narva.
I'll first try to give an overview of the situation, and I'll attempt to be as objective as possible. A lot of the political conflict about Russians in Estonia has stemmed from the fact that when Estonia "re-established" (note this word, it's important) its independence in 1991, it only offered citizenship to those who could verify that they or their ancestors lived in Estonia before World War II. The argument was that Estonia was an independent country that was illegally occupied by the Soviet Union as a result of the Malatov-Ribbentrop Pact. To simplify the argument, since Estonia was never legally Soviet, settlers from the rest of the Soviet Union were illegal immigrants who were not automatically entitled to an Estonian passport. Many Russians were granted citizenship- there had been a fairly large group of religious refugees living in Estonia prior to the war. But those who settled in Estonia under the Sovietization policy during the illegal occupation needed to be naturalized. To become naturalized, you needed to speak Estonian. Most Russians didn't and thus became stateless. They were, however, given EU citizenship when Estonia acceded to the EU, and they have a grey passport which allows them to travel. Any permanent resident is given access to social services and can vote in local elections.
Estonia was initially criticized for making its naturalization test unnecessarily difficult, but has since changed the exam. Most of the Russian criticism I have heard of the citizenship policy is based on the idea that Russians are second-class citizens (if they are citizens at all). I've also heard several complaints of discrimination against the Russians, but haven't seen any hard facts about it. It's difficult, in any case, to quantify what is discrimination: Are you not being hired because the employer doesn't like Russians, or could it possibly be because you don't adequately speak the country's national language?
My heart goes out to the Estonians. The Soviet Occupation was brutal in so many ways. A couple days ago, I had dinner with a woman whose grandma had been deported to Siberia as an 11-year-old. She didn't finally return to Estonia until she was 26. Some Estonians I've met are unnecessarily combative when discussing the Russians, but I think most are just looking to move forward. If you respect that you are in Estonia, you learn the language, and you will be ok in their eyes. I'm not sure all of the Russians accord adequate respect to Estonia's independence, and I think they should be a little more willing to meet Estonians halfway. (A few girls I know who work retail have told stories of Russians throwing fits at her for not being able to speak Russian, for example.)
My heart goes out to the Russians as well. Though Estonia is a very nice place to live, I haven't gathered that the situation was that many people packed up and moved here because it was finally their right as a Soviet. Many were moved here somewhat forcibly (depending on who you talk to) because the Soviet Union wanted to try to dilute the local population and because the Soviets didn't trust Estonians working in certain industries. Many of the Russians in Tallinn still live in the huge dour cement blocks the Soviets called apartment buildings. These Russians were largely victims of the Soviet Union as well, and I don't think many Estonians accord adequate respect to that. These effects still linger- even today, educational attainment, unemployment, drug usage, HIV infection rates (etc) are all disproportionately high among Russians.
My assessments of what it is like to be Russian in Estonia had been shaped by one key fact: I live in a city that is reasonably mixed. Tallinn is roughly 40% Russian. Public education is available both in Russian and Estonian. Some university courses are available locally in Russian as well. Most Russians I have encountered do speak Estonian. After all, they are exposed to it on a daily basis. The economy is very dynamic, and I think the situation here is such that you can go far if you learn Estonian.
I learned, however, you can't adequately assess the situation of the Russians in Estonia without going to Narva. The city has, in short, been left behind both by the Soviets and by the Estonians, and I think it is further dragged down by well-meaning EU minority protection policies.
Narva, the last city on the northern coast before you enter Russia, was once a beautiful and important trading city. However, 98% of the city was destroyed during World War II. Those who inhabited the city prior to World War II (about 65% of whom were Estonian) were never allowed to return because the Soviets planned to open a secret uranium processing plant and close the city to the outside world. The factory was built in a nearby town, but the initial plans solidified Narva's current position as a city that is about 95% Russian. The industries that sustained the city have been in decline ever since Estonia gained independence. Without the Soviet Union, many of these factories simply closed. Many left Narva. Many more would like to leave, but face structural impediments to doing so.
As an EU member, Estonia is obliged to offer primary and secondary education in a person's mother tongue. It is of course a well-intended policy. But in effect, it has meant that many in Narva simply never learn Estonian adequately. Though some opportunities exist to receive a university education in Russian, students have a limited range of subjects. In practice, it is very difficult to attend an Estonian university without learning Estonian. Furthermore, Estonia is such a small country that it is difficult to imagine it will base much of its economy on manufacturing in the future.
The thing that seemed so odd to me about Narva was that, if you were deaf, you would not necessarily have any way of knowing that you were in a Russian-speaking city. Street signs are all in Estonian. I passed the Town Hall, and noticed the signage, including the opening hours, were also only in Estonian. Fair(ish), I guess, since these are all provided by the Estonian government. However, I went grocery shopping, and all of the signs were ALSO in Estonian. Now, I've lived in enough countries to know that the first words you learn are hello, goodbye, please, thank you, numbers, and food items. I'm sure if you live in Narva, you manage somehow. It still seems like such bad business though. If you're in a city that's 97% Russian speaking, and you run a grocery store, wouldn't you WANT to print labels in a language people actually read? In a country where citizenship and success means learning Estonian, Russian-only public education seems almost cruel. Then to have all signs in Estonian on top of that... Truth be told, it seems almost like a middle finger to the city's inhabitants. I'm so hesitant to pick sides on this. I understand that Estonians suffered decades of occupation and don't want to validate it by making their invaders' language official. I firmly believe that, while it's important culturally to keep your language, it is equally important to learn the language of whatever country you live in. Though I can say that I see why those in Narva might feel as though they've been left behind.
My photos are available here. They were all taken in Narva.
Lahemaa National Park
On one of the last really pretty weekends of the fall, I headed east of Tallinn with the Tallinn University International Club. My favorite part of the the trip was to Lahemaa National Park. The park covers about 450 square miles and four distinct types of terrain. It was a picture-perfect day (literally- these photos are only cropped and straightened!), so I'm going to let the photos I took speak for themselves. :)
To help orient yourself- Lahemaa is the area in red on the map above. On this trip, I would eventually make it all the way to Narva in the northeast corner.
The Viru Bog
We took a 3.5km walk through this bog in the southern part of Lahemaa. Since much of the ground is too mushy to walk on, you have to walk on a wooden plank that winds throughout the bog. The plank itself was pretty slippery though. I had muddy knees to prove it for the rest of the day. But at least it was my jeans that got wet, and not my camera. I told someone after I fell that I would rather break my arm than my camera, since at least my arm is insured. He thought I was joking. I wasn't. All of my bog photos are here.
The Käsmu Peninsula
This shallow bay still has many boulders left from the Ice Age. I've never seen landscape quite like it. When I think of wheat fields, I would imagine this sea of gold extending in all directions, perhaps occasionally punctuated by a green tractor, red barn, or grey road. I don't think of it as being something that would literally descend into the sea, surrounded by forested, and that I'd need to climb over boulders in the middle of the field. This may actually be the favorite place I visited in Estonia so far, if only for the sheer novelty of the landscape. My photos are here.
Viinistu
Viinistu is an adorable village that earned its fortune (and its name!) smuggling vodka to Finland. Today, it is known for its art museum.
Palmse Manor
The Palmse Manor serves as a museum, the visitor center for Lahemaa, and a prime wedding venue. Two of our friends decided to stage their own wedding on the river banks. My photos are here.
Jaegala Falls
After the first dusting of snow. Photos are here.
To help orient yourself- Lahemaa is the area in red on the map above. On this trip, I would eventually make it all the way to Narva in the northeast corner.
The Viru Bog
We took a 3.5km walk through this bog in the southern part of Lahemaa. Since much of the ground is too mushy to walk on, you have to walk on a wooden plank that winds throughout the bog. The plank itself was pretty slippery though. I had muddy knees to prove it for the rest of the day. But at least it was my jeans that got wet, and not my camera. I told someone after I fell that I would rather break my arm than my camera, since at least my arm is insured. He thought I was joking. I wasn't. All of my bog photos are here.
The Käsmu Peninsula
This shallow bay still has many boulders left from the Ice Age. I've never seen landscape quite like it. When I think of wheat fields, I would imagine this sea of gold extending in all directions, perhaps occasionally punctuated by a green tractor, red barn, or grey road. I don't think of it as being something that would literally descend into the sea, surrounded by forested, and that I'd need to climb over boulders in the middle of the field. This may actually be the favorite place I visited in Estonia so far, if only for the sheer novelty of the landscape. My photos are here.
Viinistu
Viinistu is an adorable village that earned its fortune (and its name!) smuggling vodka to Finland. Today, it is known for its art museum.
Palmse Manor
The Palmse Manor serves as a museum, the visitor center for Lahemaa, and a prime wedding venue. Two of our friends decided to stage their own wedding on the river banks. My photos are here.
Jaegala Falls
After the first dusting of snow. Photos are here.
Winter to Spring
So much has gone on, that I think I'm going to need to dive headfirst right back into blogging. I apologize if the posts over the next few weeks seem disjointed, and they are certainly not in chronological order.
So, it's now March. I've officially survived a northern winter. It started off as a blur: November saw a bus trip with the international club of Tallinn University, a day-trip to Helsinki, a trip to Jerusalem followed by a trip to Lapland, my 23rd birthday, exams, and countless Christmas parties. The Christmas spirit was what got me through the first part of winter. For the last six weeks I was in Estonia before coming home for Christmas, I literally did not see the sun. (Except for the time I was in Israel, but that's a different blog post.) The days were short- sun rose around 9:30, and it was completely dark before 4pm. The days were also quite cloudy. If it weren't for the blur of friends, love, gift giving, and gluhwein that comes with Christmas, I think I would have been rather mopey.
January was a strange time for me. Classes had ended, I wasn't traveling anywhere, and my internship hadn't started yet. I could do pretty much anything I wanted. I've never had so much free time for so long. But it was so cold! And so dark! In retrospect, I think I was dealing with a bit of seasonal affective disorder. I wasn't consciously depressed. Nor did I register being even a tiny bit sad. I just had no interest whatsoever in going outside, which isn't terribly characteristic of me. Nor is sleeping 12 hours a day. I blame Vitamin D deficiency.
In February, I started a new internship at the Estonian Atlantic Treaty Association (EATA). I had attended a Youth Atlantic Treaty Association General Assembly in Ukraine in October, 2009. I'd met some good, inspirational people there and found that all of the organizations within the ATA umbrella did work on interesting subjects. (It's also worth noting that the Atlanticist crowd is also less likely to ever make an issue of my nationality.) I'm hoping to help however I can, but it seems as though the bulk of my work with EATA will be to handle the English-language communications.
The week before I formally started at EATA, my phone rang. It was around noon, I was still asleep, and I was strongly tempted not to take the call. I answered anyways, and my boss was in the other line. She thought she may have found another project for me, and I could perhaps meet with someone the next day to discuss it. Alas, I was boarding a plane for Barcelona the next morning. Ah, so can you come meet in an hour? I took the world's fastest shower, dried my hair, tried to look presentable, and rushed over. I was introduced to a man who earned his law degree at Georgetown as a Fulbright student. He worked in the Estonian Ministry of Defense during the cyber attacks of 2007. (Those could be a blog post on their own, but check the Wikipedia entry for a quick overview if you're interested.) He told me that today most countries have the technical ability to address a cyber attack, but those in a decision-making capacity don't necessarily know how to approach the situation. He and his brother now head up a consulting firm to deal with the subject, and they've asked me to come on to help write their English website, some grant applications, and maybe a few information sheets. I should start any day now- as soon as I returned from Barcelona, the head of this (two-person) company left for two back-to-back business trips. Hopefully this week I'll get some marching orders.
The days are getting longer, I'm watching melting snow drip from the rooftops across the street, and I'm feeling hopeful for the next semester.
So, it's now March. I've officially survived a northern winter. It started off as a blur: November saw a bus trip with the international club of Tallinn University, a day-trip to Helsinki, a trip to Jerusalem followed by a trip to Lapland, my 23rd birthday, exams, and countless Christmas parties. The Christmas spirit was what got me through the first part of winter. For the last six weeks I was in Estonia before coming home for Christmas, I literally did not see the sun. (Except for the time I was in Israel, but that's a different blog post.) The days were short- sun rose around 9:30, and it was completely dark before 4pm. The days were also quite cloudy. If it weren't for the blur of friends, love, gift giving, and gluhwein that comes with Christmas, I think I would have been rather mopey.
January was a strange time for me. Classes had ended, I wasn't traveling anywhere, and my internship hadn't started yet. I could do pretty much anything I wanted. I've never had so much free time for so long. But it was so cold! And so dark! In retrospect, I think I was dealing with a bit of seasonal affective disorder. I wasn't consciously depressed. Nor did I register being even a tiny bit sad. I just had no interest whatsoever in going outside, which isn't terribly characteristic of me. Nor is sleeping 12 hours a day. I blame Vitamin D deficiency.
In February, I started a new internship at the Estonian Atlantic Treaty Association (EATA). I had attended a Youth Atlantic Treaty Association General Assembly in Ukraine in October, 2009. I'd met some good, inspirational people there and found that all of the organizations within the ATA umbrella did work on interesting subjects. (It's also worth noting that the Atlanticist crowd is also less likely to ever make an issue of my nationality.) I'm hoping to help however I can, but it seems as though the bulk of my work with EATA will be to handle the English-language communications.
The week before I formally started at EATA, my phone rang. It was around noon, I was still asleep, and I was strongly tempted not to take the call. I answered anyways, and my boss was in the other line. She thought she may have found another project for me, and I could perhaps meet with someone the next day to discuss it. Alas, I was boarding a plane for Barcelona the next morning. Ah, so can you come meet in an hour? I took the world's fastest shower, dried my hair, tried to look presentable, and rushed over. I was introduced to a man who earned his law degree at Georgetown as a Fulbright student. He worked in the Estonian Ministry of Defense during the cyber attacks of 2007. (Those could be a blog post on their own, but check the Wikipedia entry for a quick overview if you're interested.) He told me that today most countries have the technical ability to address a cyber attack, but those in a decision-making capacity don't necessarily know how to approach the situation. He and his brother now head up a consulting firm to deal with the subject, and they've asked me to come on to help write their English website, some grant applications, and maybe a few information sheets. I should start any day now- as soon as I returned from Barcelona, the head of this (two-person) company left for two back-to-back business trips. Hopefully this week I'll get some marching orders.
The days are getting longer, I'm watching melting snow drip from the rooftops across the street, and I'm feeling hopeful for the next semester.
Monday, February 7, 2011
Updates to Come
Yes, I am terrible. Terrible, terrible, terrible. But I will get better. I have finally finished a large batch of photo editing, so will soon post (with pictures!) stories from my trips to Lahemaa (an Estonian national park), Narva (an ethnically Russian city in Estonia), Lapland (the far north of Finland), and Jerusalem. After I come back from a week-end trip to Spain, that is. :)
Tuesday, November 23, 2010
I think it's winter now.
At least, it's getting there. Tomorrow, the sun will rise at 8:36 in the morning. The sun will set at 3:38pm. If today was any guide, it will be entirely dark by 4:10. The high will be 33F (.5C), the low will be 26F (-3C). Snow showers will occur on and off throughout the day. By the end of the week, the high will be 22F (-5.5C) and the low will be 10F (-12C). Did I mention it is still November?
No matter. On Friday I am jetting off to Israel, where the weather will be in the 70s (low 20s in Celsius) and there will be three more hours of daylight.
And since I like to confuse my body, two days after my return from Israel, I will head on a Tallinn University trip to Lapland (Arctic Circle, Finland), where there will be about four hours of daylight and the temperature is currently 12F (-11C). I keep reminding myself that it was colder in Oslo when I was there last January and I adjusted to the cold surprisingly well and quickly. I will survive Lapland and hopefully see the northern lights in the process. But I'm admittedly really nervous.
No matter. On Friday I am jetting off to Israel, where the weather will be in the 70s (low 20s in Celsius) and there will be three more hours of daylight.
And since I like to confuse my body, two days after my return from Israel, I will head on a Tallinn University trip to Lapland (Arctic Circle, Finland), where there will be about four hours of daylight and the temperature is currently 12F (-11C). I keep reminding myself that it was colder in Oslo when I was there last January and I adjusted to the cold surprisingly well and quickly. I will survive Lapland and hopefully see the northern lights in the process. But I'm admittedly really nervous.
Wednesday, November 17, 2010
Currency Comparison
I am currently enrolled in a course called "Estonian Country Studies." It is, more or less, a weekly field trip for Erasmus students to various points of interest around Tallinn. Today, we headed to the Estonian Bank Museum, which housed currency specimens dating back to the Russian czarist era. (Less than 100 years, and they had five-soon to be six- currencies!)
I noticed something striking about their choice of national figures to grace their bills.
2 kroon- Karl Ernst von Baer: First president of the Russian Entomological Society and co-founder of the Russian Geographical Society. Von Baer was born in what is now Estonia, though it was Russian territory at the time.
5 kroon- Paul Keres: Estonian Chess Grandmaster.
10 kroon- Jakob Hurt: Linguist who compiled many Estonian songs and fairy tales into the first written volume. (Prior to this point, Estonian was primarily a spoken language.)
25 kroon- Anton Hansen Tammsaare: Author of "Truth and Justice," which is considered the great Estonian novel.
50 kroon- Rudolf Tobias: The first Estonian professional composer.
100 kroon- Lydia Koidula: Poet and dramatist, considered the founder of Estonian theatre.
500 kroon- Carl Robert Jakobson: Leader of the Estonian Awakening in the mid 19th century, which helped demand equal rights for the ethnic Estonians to the Baltic Germans who controlled the region.
All coins, meanwhile, have the national seal. When Estonia take the euro in January, the Estonian euro coins will feature an outline of Estonia.
Compare this to the American currency. With the exception of the $10 bill and the $100 bill, all of our paper money features the face of a former president. Alexander Hamilton, whose portrait graces the $10 bill, was the first Secretary of the Treasury. Meanwhile, Benjamin Franklin... well, what didn't Benjamin Franklin do? The important bit is that he, too, is a major political figure even if he never held the presidency.
All of this got me thinking about what really comprises the American identity. I think it might be harder to really pin an American identity down- maybe "melting pot" really is the only description upon which most people could agree. If we were, for example, to pick ONE writer to honor with a place on our currency, whom would we choose? (I almost want to say Tocqueville, though I think many Americans would balk at the idea of having a Frenchman on our currency.) Which composer? Which poet? The leaders of which social movements?
This isn't to say that our choice in presidents aren't controversial. I'm sure half of Glenn Beck's viewers would take up the call to remove FDR from the dime should he ever bring the issue up on his show. (I hope I'm not giving anyone ideas, here.) Meanwhile, many people today might consider Andrew Jackson (of $20 bill fame) an odd choice for such a high level of commemoration. (Assuming, of course, that most people actually know anything about Jackson's presidency.) It's worth pointing out, however, that both figures were fairly popular during their rule. Meanwhile, some of the figures who are on our currency are loved now, but were NOT widely loved at the time of their presidency. Abraham Lincoln did, after all, hold the highest office while the country was in the midst of a civil war.
Since I'm curious, I do want to know if you had to pick a politician, two writers, a musician, an athlete, a social leader, and someone you think was just absolutely intrinsic in the formation of the American identity to honor on our bills, whom would you pick?
I noticed something striking about their choice of national figures to grace their bills.
2 kroon- Karl Ernst von Baer: First president of the Russian Entomological Society and co-founder of the Russian Geographical Society. Von Baer was born in what is now Estonia, though it was Russian territory at the time.
5 kroon- Paul Keres: Estonian Chess Grandmaster.
10 kroon- Jakob Hurt: Linguist who compiled many Estonian songs and fairy tales into the first written volume. (Prior to this point, Estonian was primarily a spoken language.)
25 kroon- Anton Hansen Tammsaare: Author of "Truth and Justice," which is considered the great Estonian novel.
50 kroon- Rudolf Tobias: The first Estonian professional composer.
100 kroon- Lydia Koidula: Poet and dramatist, considered the founder of Estonian theatre.
500 kroon- Carl Robert Jakobson: Leader of the Estonian Awakening in the mid 19th century, which helped demand equal rights for the ethnic Estonians to the Baltic Germans who controlled the region.
All coins, meanwhile, have the national seal. When Estonia take the euro in January, the Estonian euro coins will feature an outline of Estonia.
Compare this to the American currency. With the exception of the $10 bill and the $100 bill, all of our paper money features the face of a former president. Alexander Hamilton, whose portrait graces the $10 bill, was the first Secretary of the Treasury. Meanwhile, Benjamin Franklin... well, what didn't Benjamin Franklin do? The important bit is that he, too, is a major political figure even if he never held the presidency.
All of this got me thinking about what really comprises the American identity. I think it might be harder to really pin an American identity down- maybe "melting pot" really is the only description upon which most people could agree. If we were, for example, to pick ONE writer to honor with a place on our currency, whom would we choose? (I almost want to say Tocqueville, though I think many Americans would balk at the idea of having a Frenchman on our currency.) Which composer? Which poet? The leaders of which social movements?
This isn't to say that our choice in presidents aren't controversial. I'm sure half of Glenn Beck's viewers would take up the call to remove FDR from the dime should he ever bring the issue up on his show. (I hope I'm not giving anyone ideas, here.) Meanwhile, many people today might consider Andrew Jackson (of $20 bill fame) an odd choice for such a high level of commemoration. (Assuming, of course, that most people actually know anything about Jackson's presidency.) It's worth pointing out, however, that both figures were fairly popular during their rule. Meanwhile, some of the figures who are on our currency are loved now, but were NOT widely loved at the time of their presidency. Abraham Lincoln did, after all, hold the highest office while the country was in the midst of a civil war.
Since I'm curious, I do want to know if you had to pick a politician, two writers, a musician, an athlete, a social leader, and someone you think was just absolutely intrinsic in the formation of the American identity to honor on our bills, whom would you pick?
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