Until Next Time, America

By: MJ

I recall standing in the departure lounge with a few friends and family on the day I left Australia in late 2002. After a year of planning there I was – standing with a one way ticket to the United States (US) in my hand. It was too brief a moment, but it was optimistic and supportive. It was also mostly terrifying for me internally. But I was reaping what I had sown (!) so I turned alone and walked towards, not away from, something. 

That moment and the movement of those first steps set in motion one and a half decades of having a different life and another home.

15 years and 9 months ago I arrived in the US with the things that I thought were important. Things like official papers, personal items, and a bicycle. I was welcomed into the US at LAX by a large intimidating customs officer who checked my passport and enthusiastically declared “Welcome home!”. I share that moment as it was very odd to consider a country you were just arriving in ‘home’. I had only known the US through a few visits when I was young, and through the eyes and stories of family members, particularly those of my mother. Given that my intent was to stay three to five years it seemed improbable that it would be what I would call home. At the time I smiled and nodded, unaware of the potential of the future that lay ahead of me.

Fast forward to the present. One learns a lot living in another country. The big lessons are: a) when to shut your mouth and listen; b) how to diplomatically contrast your experiences when appropriate; and c) how to suppress your foreign colloquialisms. Everything else is like, cake, bro. Except for driving on the other side of the road. Maybe I should mention the imperial measurement system if living in any of the three countries that still use it. But these are superficial things. Had it become home, or not?

I long felt like a guest in this country and, frankly, sometimes like I was on a decade long vacation. A vacation that involved a career, mortgage, marriage and child. The bigger picture is that it has been interesting to be an emigrant, but not an immigrant. “The Foreigner” was a label I was often given – more in affection and jest than anything dismissive or derogatory – and my intact Australian accent was a target for mostly good things. I was a citizen, not on a visa, and I was learning the ways and means of being American. On an early visit back to Australia I visited the school I had worked at and the students asked “What are Americans like?”. My answer at that time was less than they expected, but truthful and succinct. The answer I gave was “Just like us”. Truthful, but completely lacking regard for the nuances and history I had yet to appreciate. The answer did not address what makes an American.

Was I successful in in my endeavors? Did I make it in the United States? This can be a matter of perspective, but by generic and practical measures I would say: yes. I came to the US knowing that it is called ‘The Land of Opportunity’. I leave in 100% agreement by experience. The US provides opportunity, whatever opportunity that may be for you. Taking the opportunity is your decision and of your undertaking. It’s a case of ‘make of it what you will’. I came to the US wanting to travel, meet people, study and learn, and become a therapist. These were all achieved, and the living moments in between those things provided so much more than expected. I had clearly learned the ways and means and lived as an American, but did I feel American?

My most recent experiences have been the most consolidating for my American identity. We have been able to travel the US for three months with the help of family and friends, experiencing new things and seeing new places, and making some tremendous memories. These marginally added to a sense of that identity. In truth it felt more like a farewell tour. But our recent visit to Fort McHenry in Baltimore was different – this is where it all fell into place for me. (‘It all’ being identity and assimilation.) 

While PJ and AJ were visiting Colorado I had a few solo but busy days trying to do nothing costly yet something meaningful. I essentially stumbled upon Antietam and then Harpers Ferry in trying to find campsites close to Baltimore. What I learned there, and then what I saw, read and experienced at Fort McHenry a few days later, brought a lot of abstract pieces of what made the United States the United States into clear focus. Finally, I saw the actual preserved Fort McHenry flag at the Smithsonian in Washington D.C. Combined, these things provided me with the most profound and sustaining experience of being an American. I had grown feverish – not about the flag – but about the story and the events and the people of that flag.

When we drove away from our nine year hometown in Colorado a few months ago my wife and I were blubbering sobbing messes about 20min down the road. AJ was perplexed by our crying. The same thing happened at the Colorado border sign driving into Utah. I fully expect to be a blubbering mess flying out of the US. The source of our blubbering on this exit may be very different due to our individual contexts. She was born, raised and has always lived in the US. I have left a home and a life once before, but am doing it again, but with an additional home and identity. The commonality will be enduring the threshold of trying to believe what you are moving towards, rather than staring at what you are moving away from.

Most things in life are difficult to achieve alone.

I would like to thank my mother, an American citizen. Her adventure in visiting her sister abroad and then marrying a foreigner, to live her life in a foreign country, provided me with the opportunities granted with dual citizenship. She believed in what she was moving towards. Unfortunately her eyes were not able to watch how my life has been played out.

I would like to thank my god-mother and her family (my uncle and cousin) for welcoming me into their home and life in 2002 and for giving me the insight, infrastructure, support and confidence to be successful in the US. They were the cornerstone of my time in the US. They helped me believe I was doing the right thing.

I would like to thank those people I now count as friends and allies and, to be more contemporary, ‘peeps’. Life alone is lonely. It much more exciting and meaningful to share life experiences with different people. The web of help needed to be successful is both vast and entangled, and many people helped me to not fall through.

I would like to thank my best friend and spouse PJ for agreeing to merge life paths. Then beyond that, amongst innumerable other things, to plan forward, live life, love life, see places, try new things, and cuddle. Holding your hand is still both exhilarating and comforting.

Lastly I would like to thank my Australian family and friends who let me entertain myself with a life experiment in America for 4x longer than I said I would.

Experience with travel has shown me that every place each time is a little different. With that in mind I exit the US with a family to share everything with, and to explore other regions of the world with. I leave this home with a few things that I am sure are important.

Hasta la vista America!