Now in my 30s, working as an international human rights lawyer, French has been a core component of my professional life enabling me to share ideas with francophone diplomats and civil society workers. The French Déclaration des droits de l'homme et du citoyen is one of the fundamental historical documents in our discipline. Who would question the revolutionary concepts of freedom, equality and humanity? (Okay, fraternity is a bit outdated, but French feminists helped reshape our thinking on this too)..

Last year, before returning to Australia following several years working overseas on atrocity crimes, I walked 1100 kilometres across France, soaking up everything French culture had on offer. On my long walk, I contemplated the decade of atrocity-related work I'd been engaged in while living in Africa, Asia, and Europe. Unsurprisingly, I didn't discover the answer to ending the commission of atrocities, but I did make the (perhaps superficial) discovery that my love affair with France would be life-long.

But I won't be changing my Facebook profile picture to superimpose the translucent tricolore even though I am sick to the pit of my stomach about the atrocities committed in Paris a couple of nights ago. And I won't be singing La Marseillaise as a demonstration of solidarity with the French people.

That's because I believe the answer to the problems facing our world lies beyond notions of nationalism, and so-called national identity. Beyond notions of allies and enemies. Beyond symbols representing bloodshed on the battlefield, imperial conquest, and lines drawn on maps.

It's also because, if every day I was to change my Facebook profile picture into the translucent flag of the countries where people had died atrocious deaths that day—atrocious, unnecessary deaths by bullets, bombs and chemical weapons, as well as economic and environmental crimes we are yet to name—it would represent all the colours of the rainbow. From Syria to Lebanon, from Iraq and Afghanistan to Sri Lanka and North Korea; from Burundi to Burma and Mexico. For the children shot dead in American classrooms, and the women killed by their partners in Australia. And for the asylum seekers drowning in droves as they try to reach safer shores.

And, of course, for France. Douce France.

So, Facebook, give me a symbol that represents the scope of global suffering and I will wear it. Write me the song, and I will sing it.

Clair Duffy Currumbin Valley (Qld)