Three More Days

Three days left on American soil.

I can still hardly believe it. I hope I'm not in for the shock of my life when I arrive. You know, I was thinking back to the first time I went, and I counted down to that trip for months. Almost a year, actually. And now, I'm going to be LIVING in France for four months, and I still haven't quite realized it. I have had moments in the past few days during which I cannot believe my fortune, my stomach knots up in excitement, and all I can focus on is traveling and all of the new places I am going to see and wonderful people I will meet and wealth of things I will learn. And then I have those moments where my stomach knots up, but not in a thrilling way - rather, in a terrifying way. I sometimes wish I had never signed up for this, that I was driving up Route 28 next week and not flying across the Atlantic ocean, that I could stay in the comfort zone where my parents, my friends, my family, my BosTones, hell, even my dog, are all there to support me. But the best lessons are not easy ones, and the best experiences are those that try and challenge us. I know I have to do this. And I've dreamed of this for a long, long time.

The student handbook that BU so kindly provided for us suggests that we should think about some questions before embarking on our journey. It asks us to think about what it means to be an American.

Hm.

I have been pondering this question for quite a bit now, and it's interesting me more than I ever thought it would. Or should, for that matter. Is being American more than eating chicken fried steak smothered in Wal-mart brand faux cheese while watching a college football game on a 72 inch flat screen TV? Is being American more than what the stereotypes say?

I have honestly never thought of myself as "American". I am from United States of America, but that's different. From what I understand, the French have a very strong cultural identity of being French, as do many other Europeans with their respective cultures. But I feel very differently about our culture as a whole. I'm not even sure if the USA has a specific culture. Are we old enough to have one? Or are we too much of a melting pot? When you ask most French people the question, "What nationality are you?" they would, of course, respond, "French" (in a haughty tone and with a nasal chortle, no doubt). But here, the words "nationality" and "heritage" are confusing. I know many people who live in the USA who would answer this question with "Portuguese" or "Irish". I, myself, identify more with my Irish roots than I do with the "America" in which I was born and raised. So is the American culture one of personal identity rather than national identity?

I fear the embarrassment of having to tell people I'm an American when I am abroad. How pathetic is that, that I'm ashamed of my country? But if I'm ashamed of my country, does that mean I'm ashamed of myself, and who I am?

Things to think about.