By now, I imagine that most of you know of the terror attacks in Paris last week. I was in my office when I first read the New York Times headline. Immediately, I sent a text message to my Parisian cousin, asking him what was happening. His response was chilling:

It started with, “I don’t know Brad!!”

It ended with, “Paris has become a battlefield!!”

I went home to watch the news coverage, and began to note how one processes thoughts during times of crisis. Short, manageable tasks: (1) Text Mike. (2) Call Mary. (3) Write to Baptiste. (4) Write to Paul and Sandra. Perhaps this repetitive simplicity reflects some desperate attempt to feel a sense of control in the face of such overwhelming chaos: A bomb at the Stade de France. 18 killed at restaurant near the Canal St. Martin. Hostage situation at the Bataclan. Shots reported at Les Halles?

Honestly, I feel so helpless, I wish I were there now.

There are many members of the Loyola community who hold Paris near to their hearts, and for those of you who have never been, you should know that, in many ways, you are already more Parisian than other Americans. After all, New Orleanians are, by default, extended citizens of Paris. Through the years, the subject of “American History” has largely come to ignore the French and Spanish colonial story of New Orleans, but it is this history—which is very different than that of the original 13 American colonies—that makes New Orleans the most European city in the U.S.

I went to Paris for the first time when I was 14 years old, and I remember feeling much more comfortable in Paris than I did in London. I did not know it at the time, but my 7th-great grandfather, François Rillieux, arrived in New Orleans in the 1720s (incidentally, I share this ancestor with the French Impressionist Edgar Degas). Who knows? Perhaps in some cosmic way, my 14-year-old self felt an inherent connection to my ancestral homeland. Whatever the case, I knew that I wanted Paris to be a part of my life.

In 2009, our dear Professor Emerita, Dr. Mary McCay of the Department of English, invited me to teach in Loyola’s Paris Summer Program. Mary, along with Dr. Alice Kornovich of the Department of Languages and Cultures, started the Paris Summer Program nearly 20 years ago, and since then have brought a few hundred students to the City of Light. Upon Mary’s retirement last year, I inherited the program as its Director, and look forward to continuing Mary’s legacy.

When people ask, “What do you teach in Paris,” I typically respond, “I teach Paris.” The experience is immersive; you do not simply “teach” in the classroom and move on with your day. You begin teaching the moment you land at Charles de Gaulle, and do not stop until you board the flight to return home to the U.S. Summer abroad in Paris is not a vacation; it is a vocation, and the goal is to teach students what it is like to be Parisian in four short weeks. At times, the pace is intense (one student’s Fitbit this summer recorded over 240 miles of walking in our 28 days abroad), but we hope to show students as much of the Parisian lifestyle as is possible.

The River Seine cuts its way through the heart of Paris, and the larger of two islands in the middle of this river is called the Île de la Cité. Here, you will find famous landmarks—Notre Dame, Sainte-Chapelle, the Conciergerie—but also, if you walk towards the Pont Neuf (look this up on Google Maps), you come to a medieval staircase that takes you down to a small, green, triangular-shaped park called the “Square du Vert-Galant.” At this tip of the island, you have a magnificent view, and in the shade of a lone willow tree at the point, you can watch the city unfold around you.

On the Left Bank, or “Rive Gauche,” you can follow the ghosts of the American expatriate community (Fitzgerald, Stein, Hemingway, Toklas, Miller), walk down towards Saint-Germain-des-Prés, perhaps stop for coffee at Café de Flore or Les Deux Magots and conjure up the spirits of Huysmans, Sartre, deBeauvoir, or Camus. You might spend an afternoon sitting in the sun in the Jardin du Luxembourg, or if you want to get away from the more touristy parts of town, you might picnic in the Parc Montsouris.

On the Right Bank, or “Rive Droite,” you might decide to people watch along the Champs-Élysées, or breathe the open air of the Place des Vosges. You can spend an afternoon wandering through the Marais, sampling falafel from street vendors or stopping for a bite to eat in one of the Jewish delis. If you are feeling more nostalgic, you can explore the expansive Cimetière du Père-Lachaise, and visit the likes of Apollinaire, Chopin, Géricault, Lyotard, and, of course, Jim Morrison and Oscar Wilde.

To the north, you can sit atop Montmartre in the shadow of Sacré-Cœur and absorb the expansive view unfolding beneath you. Interestingly, from this spot, you are also following in the footsteps of St. Ignatius, who, in 1534, along with his companions, chose this place to officially dedicate themselves to what would become the Society of Jesus. Even further north, beyond the Boulevard Périphérique, you might spend a Saturday exploring the flea market—the Marché aux Puces de Saint-Ouen—with all its chaotic bric-à-brac.

Hemingway once said, “If you are lucky enough to have lived in Paris as a young man, then wherever you go for the rest of your life, it stays with you, for Paris is a moveable feast.” Indeed.

The stakes are seldom higher than when you are fighting an ideological war, and the attacks on Paris this weekend expose the dark side of French domestic issues, including postcolonial tensions, discrimination, rampant unemployment, and assimilationist policies. Pope Francis himself said that there is no religious or human justification for what unfolded on Friday night. But, France is a nation of idealists who are intensely patriotic. I imagine that, sometime soon, we will see the French unite again, in the same way that thousands converged on the Place de la République in the aftermath of the Charlie Hebdo attacks in January of this year. Here at Loyola, next Monday evening, Music students are hosting a benefit concert at Satchmo’s.

Whatever happens in the months ahead, I think it is important that we all remember our connection to Paris. As New Orleanians, we share more than just a cultural connection. Ours is a shared heartbeat that understands the importance of taking time away from work and the humdrum rhythm of the days to enjoy life and visit friends and family and sit on sidewalks or in parks watching the world go by. The French call it “joie de vivre.”

And this, perhaps more than anything else, is what these terrorists have tried to extinguish.

In another text with my cousin over the weekend, I said, “I wish there was something I could do!”

He replied, quite simply, “Support is always good!”

And, so, Paris: from the banlieues outside of the Périphérique to each of the 20 arrondissements inside of it, Loyola sends to you a note of solidarity: your heart is broken, and so are ours.

We, too, are Parisian, and we love you.