I am an American citizen, and I don’t look like someone you would stop if you were on the street trying to harass immigrants, but I wasn’t born here. (I’m not an immigrant, either – I just happen to have been born overseas.) I’ve spent about 15% of my life in other countries. And my least favorite role in those years has been “Interpreter of America.”
U.S. power is such a wide-reaching, many-faceted beast that you never quite know what tendril of it has intersected the people you’re meeting, what feelings they might have about that, and what explanations they might demand. I’ve made a lot of earnest attempts to share context on U.S. history and culture and also done a lot of throwing up my hands and saying, “I don’t know, man, I don’t get it, either.”
When this post goes online I’ll be in the middle of a 14-hour flight to a far-off land full of very polite people who, I’m guessing based on what I’ve seen of their news, will have a lot of feelings about my government’s international trade policies (I don’t know, man, I don’t get it, either). The picture above – taken this week a mile or so from my home in Washington, D.C. – is one of the ones I’ll be taking along to try to share where we are today.
photo: Helen Fields, obviously
I don’t know, man. I don’t get it, either. And now war with Iran. I don’t get it. I’ve never got it. I’m embarrassed to admit I’m from America. I hang my head in shame. How did we get here? Have we always been here? I don’t know, man. I don’t get it…