Kermit said it wasn't easy being green. I would have to say the same about being from a country with so much influence in the world stage and a powerful as well as pervasive media. Everyone feels as if they know a lot about the United States and most people have pre-formed impressions about U.S. culture (or lack of it, as some might try to claim), people, and politics. Thanks to powerful and wealthy entertainment and media industries, all that is American is all over the globe, for better or worse. The disadvantage, I suppose, is that nearly everyone on the face of the planet has an opinion about where I am from and a loaded perspective or bias about it before they ever visit the States or meet an American. It means that when I greet someone for the first time, especially outside of my own country, he or she already has associations with and expectations of me. The preconceived ideas of Americans are stereotypes mostly, and, admittedly, those impressions are hard to avoid forming when they are reinforced by movies, radio, TV, print media, and sometimes real-life encounters.
This week was a week full of reminders about my roots and nationality. I was chastised by a participant in one of my courses who was put off by my presentation of the American resume (the EU has a particular format they use with rules and an easy form to fill in; apparently, in the perspective of some, the more creative endeavor of crafting a resume to market yourself in the American environment is completely irrelevant). In another conversation at work, I was told of the tendency of Americans to be loud and proud of it. Yesterday, a colleague working next to me was reviewing a student thesis all about the evil nature of Americans and their plot to destroy the globe; the entire document exhibiting an alarming amount of hatred towards my nation. Someone else, in casual conversation and without knowing me well, felt it was acceptable to remark to me this week about Americans bad accents in language learning and inability to learn other languages at all (I guess they never met any of my multi-lingual and well-traveled friends!). Never mind the commonplace fat, unhealthy American references that come up on a frequent basis. Every time I turn on the television, I am assaulted by images of either pop culture being exported from my country or images of politicians and bombs. North Korea. Iraq. Elections. Political scandals. Religious ones. School shootings. It's awfully depressing. It's enough to make me cry. What is this place? Why? Is this really my home nation? Are these
my people?
Just when I am about to either abandon my nationhood entirely or become unpleasantly defensive out it, I encounter real live examples of who Americans are. The stereotypes then begin to crumble a bit...
Hospitable and Generous... One woman in the community here continually throws the doors of her home wide open for meetings, dinners, and visitors. She volunteers her busy life and family home as a safe place to gather. I've been to her house many times already, and I'm continually impressed with her welcoming spirit and willingness to host another event and greet strangers so warmly.
Inquisitive and giving... An exchange student from the Midwest here in Estonia for a semester impresses me with her curiosity about different peoples and places. She not only expresses an interest in knowing what the community is like, she has gone out of her way and comfort zone by getting involved in Tartu by getting to know a local family and volunteering at a local school.
Quirky individuals... The American take on travel sometimes cracks me up. I have an Argentinian friend who likes to transform this expression into an adjective, and I kind of like it so I think I will also use it here. Americans are "crackers" (meaning that they crack me up; no reference other meanings of cracker). An American woman that I barely know and just met told a story about her family's move to Germany a few years ago. They shipped their huge, Ford super cab pickup overseas to use while they were there. Of course, the immense vehicle looked absurd on tiny European streets and was impossible to park. I love the image...
Jazzy, classy, yet unpretentious... I went to a jazz concert last night and saw Freddy Cole's Jazz Quartet (he's Nat King Cole's younger brother!). His soothing voice and way of making commonplace into brilliant musical material as well as his easy smile and open character made me smile throughout the entire event. Something I can't quite put my finger on that made the disposition of Freddy Cole and the entire event very, very American.
Not to get too warm and fuzzy about the U.S. There is good and there is bad. There is enough diversity to make my head spin, and I am probably unaware of most of that diversity that is out there. People are people. However, in a country of 300 million and counting, I wonder if all Americans are what everyone wants to label as "All-American." More than ever, no matter how inconvenient it may be, I think my country defies stereotype. Can you really capture who I am in a song, a hateful thesis, a movie, a news report, a presidential address, a jazz concert, or a blog entry?
I am who I am, and I guess I am American... and all that jazz.
** I know that the use of "America" or "American" offends some who consider them references to the entire continent rather than to a specific nation. I use the terms "America" and "American" to refer to the United States of America and people who live there, not because I seek to offend but merely because I find it too cumbersome to continually use United States and think those terms are commonly used to mean the United States or its inhabitants. I hope that you do not find the usage offensive. Perhaps the mere fact that I feel it necessary to include this caveat speaks to the edgy, defensive nature of people from the U.S. trying to navigate dialogues with those around the globe. Ridiculous, to a point, isn't it?
Today, as I headed to the library to pick up a book I ordered on interlibrary loan, I had the pleasant surprise of running into one of the faculty members in one of my courses. She was the organizer of a semiotics conference, and she and the participants were heading to lunch. They had extra places at the dinner, so she invited me along as a "hungry person" who needed to eat.
