Okay, I know that there has been an abundance of sappy sentimental posts lately, but I’ve been feeling sentimental. If you don’t like them, by all means skip to the posts about modern art and long walks, but I think travels abroad are always emotionally charged and it’s important to talk about that. Plus, I think that talking about one’s feelings adds more authenticity to any work – be it a blog post or a painting. So here is another sentimental “Mallory shares” post.
Remember how I told you that I have deep roots? And that coming to France was harder than expected? Well, I want to talk about another side to that, and to do that, we need to talk about the States.
I went to Rome for the year when I was 12 – and fell in love. Then, when I was 17 I went to Poland, and also adored that. And then, last winter, I went to Mali and that experience absolutely changed my life. I was infected with wanderlust early and it has dogged my steps ever since. And with this love of travel and discovery I began to dislike the US. I’m not sure when it happened, but at some point I decided that I didn’t like my homeland, and that I didn’t want to be American.
I think the desire to distance myself from my American heritage can be traced back to a lot of different sources. There was, first of all, the fact that I did a lot of my traveling at a time when I felt uncomfortable about our foreign policy and the need to distance myself accordingly from the States – the whole “I’m American, but I swear I don’t approve of what my president is doing!” thing. Not to mention the fact that American students have established a nasty reputation for us girls. I still don’t initially admit I’m American to avoid stereotypes. Then there was the romance of being abroad. My love of immersing myself in something totally different coupled with the fact that I was really struggling to fit in at my small town midwest high school. Not exactly a cultural hub. And then I adored all the history and tradition in these other countries. I envied that history, that single cultural identity, those traditions. Forgetting about our own history and deeming it “less authentic/interesting,” I wished with all of my heart that I could have them.
Regardless of the cause, my national identity crisis has persisted throughout most of my college experience – until this summer when something changed and I realized that I was being a bit unfair. After years of feeling like I wanted to fully distance myself from the US I was suddenly falling back in shape with it. This was helped, of course, by the initially nasty realization that I will always be American – even if I move to another country and live for the rest of my life I will still be American at my core. Furthermore, I finally remembered how cool and rich our history is and subsequently began plowing through Ken Burn’s documentaries.
I think the Mali trip and my brief stay in France afterward, both have contributed to the amelioration of my attitude about the U.S. They helped me realize that I have a deep love of diversity. This love fuels my wanderlust and allows me to really appreciate my experiences abroad. But my experiences abroad and my re-entry into the States have shown me that while I appreciate these differences, there are some good things about the States. I have a lot to be thankful for and am privy to a lot of experiences that are unique to the U.S. Take, for example, that liberal arts education – totally doesn’t exist here in France. And let me tell you, their education system – while good – would not work well with my personality. Moreover, while I find the history/culture/tradition of these countries interesting and romantic, I have also lately discovered some romance in the cultural melting pot we have bubbling back home.
This doesn’t mean I’m totally at ease with the States I think we have tons of problems and there are still plenty of moments when I feel ashamed of my country or want to run away to Paris forever. And yes, I still have a knee-jerk “Why?” reaction when people tell me they can’t wait to visit the U.S. But the point is, I’m finally realizing that every nation – even my own – has its benefits and its issues. We all do things differently and every nation does some things better than others. The U.S. is part of that circle. Therefore, I made it my mission this summer to start rekindling my national sentimentality.
So it felt counterintuitive to go to France. I felt torn between the desire to fuel a newfound, healthy interest in my own country, and the pressure to be interested in the country I am visiting. Luckily, the US and France have some great mutual history, which should make this transition easier. There is (of course) the rich tradition of the American ex-pat in Paris – one which I love. Hemingway’s The Sun Also Rises has always been a favorite and I couldn’t be more intrigued by the idea of so many seminal artists and writers gathered together. So, I have decided to make this trip a bit of a tribute to that history and culture. I intend to make several pilgrimages to their old haunts, and I plan on splurging on a few experiences as well. (Did somebody say jazz café?)
Basically, this trip is my version of Midnight in Paris minus the cars that take me back in time (Wouldn’t that be wonderful though….) I know some people hated that film, but I loved it and you may see some common themes in the places I visit. So stay tuned! And if I ever do catch a cab back to the 1920s I’ll be sure to let you know!
MAY MEANDER 
When I was college age I went through that, too—not wanting to be American. It was right after Bobby Kennedy was shot. What a horrible place, I thought, where people just shoot someone they don’t agree with. I fled to England. A year later, I came back to the states with a new understanding that, as you say, all countries have their plusses and minuses. No place is perfect. Since then I’ve traveled all over the world. I fall in love with so many of the countries I visit—France (toujours Paris) and most recently, Belgium—but I’m always happy to come home to the U.S.
I think you have described your experience brilliantly and it’s one that I completely understand; I felt exactly the same way when I started to travel and live abroad for periods of time (and I’m British). I think if you have a strong desire to travel and experience other cultures you can only really start to appreciate your own country properly once you have done this. Bonne chance!
Merci! Yes, I think it took a bit of maturing for me to finally realized that there’s no running away from one’s culture. Moreover, I know that there is a certain ease that I will always find in the US and that won’t exist anywhere else because I was raised there. But, by the same token, I still love all the adventure and roaming of travel, and I never discount the possibility of living as an expat for several (or more than several) years. Thank you for the comment! Love your blog, by the way!