An American Abroad

Und wie heißt du? 

Ryan.

Ah, und wo kommst du her? 

Aus den USA. 

Oh, should we just talk in English then? 

What does it mean to be an American? Is it loving hamburgers, guns and freedom? Or is it being a radical left-wing socialist? I’m not sure I have an answer to this question. Whatever it means, it’s something I’m often confronted with abroad, as I’m sure many groups of people are when not part of the majority in a given context. 

Due to its sheer political and cultural weight, I get the impression sometimes that simply coming from the U.S. is a statement in itself loaded with connotations, presumptions and questions. Whether in the media, economically, or politically, the presence of the United States is indeed almost unavoidable. As an American abroad I thus become a de facto representative of this presence, and I often wonder if it’s possible to be perceived independent of my nationality at all. This seemingly inescapable identity is, after all, something I’m often ambivalent towards and something I’ll try to keep hidden if possible. Because, once my nationality comes to the fore, I feel myself become Ryan-the-American instead of just Ryan. 

Yet, I don’t necessarily harbor resentment for often being seen as an American first and an individual second. After all, humans constantly use categories to make sense of this world, myself included, and my nationality is just another, rather stark, category. We use these categories when encountering a new situation or a new person, reaching back into our preexisting knowledge of a given subject to help us interpret it. Thus, when my actions or personality are interpreted through the lens of my American-ness, it’s simply an attempt to understand me with the preexisting information available – even if that information is sometimes flawed: did I just eat that hamburger because I’m hungry and it was on the menu? Or did I eat it because I’m an American? 

Importantly, though, the categories I fall into (white, American, male, straight) are very privileged. While my actions being reduced to my nationality is noteworthy to the extent that I’ll write a blog entry about it, other categories reduce people to the point of systemic exclusion, or worse. Sure, I might get a little peeved if Germans immediately switch to English upon learning my nationality, or when it’s assumed that my childhood pastimes included chowing down on Big Macs and shooting rifles. But I’ve never been perceived as a danger or detriment to society due to the categories I was put in. 

It’s critical therefore to always be reflective in your interactions with others, especially with those that don’t share your identity – national or otherwise. Categories help us understand the world, but in reducing others to preconceived notions of who they are or should be, categories also prevent us from understanding the individual. 

Much love, 

Ryan (the American)