I realize this is posted after the day, but I just set the site up and wanted to post what I had written, even though it is way past the fourth.
So if you know me really well, you will know I’m not terribly patriotic. I’m not anti-USA, I just don’t generally get so excited about the famous holidays for their intended purpose. I don’t go to an annual Fourth of July party, I don’t barbeque, I rarely participate like the majority of people. This year was an exception though. For some reason, an ocean away, I have found a sliver of my patriotic spirit. I wore red, white, and blue, obviously, and I organized a party. And for a few days when I didn’t think it would happen, I was really upset, and I was wondering why. I never had a party or celebrated before, so why all the upset now? Why, when I am in a country full of non-Americans, for the most part, do I feel so upset about not having a proper party? And then it kind of hit me when we were eating dinner. A friend asked us, potentially slightly jesting (but with good intentions I’m sure) to me and the rest of the group, what we liked about America the best. I was first and it made me think. I said something along the lines of, “I definitely don’t harbor a blind love for America (clearly paraphrasing since I have the memory of goldfish), but it is the only home I’ve got, the place I call home home for most of my life, and for that, I love it for it”. I hope I was more eloquent, although I highly doubt it. But it is true. I wrote about feeling as if I was keenly made to feel, in my own head, to be the outsider, and so it made me aware of what I was.
Despite my qualms and interesting history, I am American. It’s home, and it took me an ocean away to find out why I love it. It was different in Vienna because they made us feel we could attain Thanksgiving with the special dinner and I was with many students all missing our homes and turkeys. But yesterday it was just me, alone, being reminded of what I had left behind, feeling nostalgic. Which lead to me baking an apple crisp, close enough to a pie for me, and we made burgers. It was the best Fourth of July I have ever had, in Germany, and on the Third of July (I should mention this fact since I haven’t before now), because it was the most heartfelt and patriotic I think I’ve ever been. So today, while it is actually the Fourth, happy Fourth of July to everyone!
Thank you to everyone who helped me celebrate!