Disclaimer: This all might sound dramatic. It’s not meant to be. The emotions I felt when I wrote this were not painful, just kind of quiet and introspective.
(Written in Ireland.)
It’s simple really. I don’t belong. Maybe it’s not that I don’t belong. It’s that I don’t know where I belong. Could be all in my head. Probably is. I know where I don’t belong. Know where I will never be completely comfortable. Will I just keep looking? How long? Feel like an outsider in my own hometown, in every place I’ve lived or visited. I don’t fit – no, that’s not true. I fit. Like a square peg through a larger round hole. Technically fits through the hole, but the shape is all wrong.
My state of non-belonging has become increasingly clear to me after this trip. I don’t know what I expected – a journey to an ancestral homeland. Thought I’d be welcomed as a prodigal daughter or something. Maybe the problem lies in American identity. Yeah, it’s home. Yeah, I’m as patriotic as the next person. But America is a nationality. It’s not an ethnicity. It’s not an identity. It’s not a place that’s a foundation for me. It’s a trail mix country. Separate pieces make the whole. Shifting identity. And of course, these aspects could be positives instead of negatives. Perhaps these aspects lead us to create our own identities. But I think that, more often, we follow the masses. Keep up with the Joneses. I think the lack of identity in America leads directly to its materialism.
In visiting such a unified country as Ireland (Don’t balk. Of course there are factions and hatred. But there is an overall identity implied by the adjective “Irish.”), I feel more unsure of who I am than I have been in years. Not my beliefs, not my personal tastes or interests, but my overall identity. Where do I fit? In the trail mix of America, where does anyone truly belong?
(Lexia, you're one of the pieces of fruit.)
12 Comments:
I totally agree with this post. I could get on my soapbox and continue the long tangent I started there, but we both know what was up in Ireland. Enough said.
I sympathize.
Won't post about it here. But I sympathize. And empathize, for that matter.
So you're saying that Americans lack a cultural identity because of minorities?
Whoa. No, that's not what I'm saying. I'm saying that unless we're fresh off the ship, we don't have a cultural identity to adhere to. Goes for any ethnicity.
Does that clarify that?
This is very interesting, Lauren. I live in this country, too, but I feel the exact opposite.
I feel like an American. Sometimes I wish I was another ethnicity because I like other languages and cultures, but I'm proud to be an American. I think the identity here is one of ambition, a fighting and adventurous spirit, a longing for tradition and identity, and a goal to be the best. And I think those are all very good things when they're used for good purposes.
I think a lot of Americans -- especially now -- feel like they're not supposed to identify themselves with America. The U.S. gets a bad rap a lot of the time, so I think we often think that it would be "cooler" to be from someplace else. But for every uncool American quality, there's a cool one, too -- same goes for every other country in the world, I think.
Also, I think I'm probably a nut in the trail mix of life.
Okay, here's another clarification:
I am, in no way, saying that I'm not proud to be an American. I am. I am, in no way, saying America doesn't have many positive aspects. It does.
I AM saying that every country has negatives and positives that are specific to that country alone. Just like people.
While the competitive nature of America might be a positive attribute to some, I don't see it that way. But then, I'm not a fan of Type A personalities.
And another thing:
I don't change my opinions based on what's "cool" or what's "not cool." I base them on experience. And in experiencing and seeing other cultures' view of America recently, I have been forced to reconsider my previously established opinions.
Clarified.
Substantive!
Hmph.
Harraharraharrumph.
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