Identity: Choosing to be an American
“Just be yourself.” That’s the advice I got from Dasha, a Russian student studying with me at Gustavus Adolphus College. It was Spring 2011, and I was preparing for my upcoming study abroad experience in St. Petersburg, Russia. I was asking Dasha about Russia, such as what I should know, and stuff like that. I asked her about clothing and what people wear. At the time I was a lover of shorts, no matter the weather (really, I could wear shorts almost year-round, even in Minnesota!). Dasha told me that shorts aren’t worn as much in Russia, but that I shouldn’t worry. Her advice to “be me” didn’t connect well with me at first. I responded with something like “I want to be Russian.” In my preparation for going to Russia, I had thought the right thing to do was blend in and not stand out. It’s interesting to think back to Dasha’s advice over ten years later, and the fact that I still remember that conversation speaks to the meaning behind her words. At the time, I wasn’t too interested in being an American, in fact, I would say I felt that this descriptor didn’t quite fit my identity.
The Setting for Leaving the U.S.
Looking back at 20-year-old me from 31, I understand that I was behaving naturally in those formative years — I was struggling to understand who I was. The conflict inside me at the time was the label given to me at birth: American. This identity had come “from above” without my permission; something I hadn’t chosen for myself. Years of schooling and participation in the Boy Scouts had armed me with patriotic slogans and songs, but by the time I entered college in 2009, the wars in Afghanistan and Iraq had been waging for almost a decade, the War on Terror had claimed lives and the liberties of Americans and others around the world, and all of it seemed so empty.
At 18, I was ready to explore the world and move beyond the borders of the reality that I knew. I had grown up in the Midwest and was still there for college. I listened eagerly to friends and acquaintances and other students who had traveled somewhere outside the United States. Their experiences only fueled my imagination and desire to go somewhere different and experience life there. I had come to college to learn Russian, and as I interacted with students and professors who had studied and lived there, I began to plan that country as my destination. I was also a political science major and took courses focused on international politics and relations. In a good way, my classes inspired me to take a critical look at US history and culture, and I met ideas and people on campus that were foreign and once only imagined by my small-town Illinois mindset. Nothing unique was happening to me, as this is a process probably familiar to many undergraduates, but all these factors are important to consider due to their influence on me as I prepared for my year abroad in Russia.
Contradictions and Embarrassment: Occupy Wall Street and Guns
I came to Russia like a sponge, ready to absorb all things new and strange to me. Long story short, I did that and returned to the US with improved Russian-language skills and a much better (though still incomplete) understanding of Russian culture. Leaving the US gave me the chance to look at US culture from the outside and there was plenty to look at. Two events in particular stick with me to this day as further shaking my identity as an American. The first was the Occupy Wall Street movement that began as I was settling into my studies in Russia. Following the news from afar, I was at first excited and proud that this could happen in my country and interested in seeing where it would lead. Then, later in the fall, I saw how police began arresting the protesters, at times using what I would describe as an unnecessary force. I witnessed similar images in cities across the US. It was a surreal moment for me. I was in Russia, not the most democratic of countries, watching police officers in the US arrest people for exercising their first amendment rights. 20-year-old me found this very difficult to process, especially as I attended a large protest march in St. Petersburg that fall.
As I continued to explore Russia and interact with people, I became a source of information about the US and life there. People asked me about many things, including Occupy Wall Street. It was painful and a bit embarrassing even to talk to them about it. Another idea told to me in childhood was that of the US as a beacon of freedom in the world. At the time, I felt the beacon was extinguished, and here I was acting as a representative. Another theme of discussion was that of guns; that very American topic. In July 2012, there was a mass shooting at a movie theater in Aurora, Colorado. This was the second event that shook me. It was devastating and people asked me how this could happen and I couldn’t answer them. My attempts to explain the importance of the constitution and second amendment were weak and the arguments seemed empty.
The Shift
Yet, 10 years have passed, and I am proud to be an American and proud of my country. How is that? Unfortunately, the Russian political scene was deteriorating in front of my eyes while I living my life in St. Petersburg. I was also maturing, learning, and growing. The combination of these factors helped me gain new perspectives on the US. I looked at the Russian political system with a president who had been there for a decade and was planning on staying for another one or two. I heard how the word “stability” was used as a synonym for Vladimir Putin’s regime. Compared to the US political process, you could be tricked into thinking this was the right way to do it. I witnessed presidential and parliamentary elections across Russia with voter fraud and predictable results. I also began to see how people with big ideas for their communities and country couldn’t get into politics because they didn’t fall into the category of loyalists. The US presidential election in 2016 ignited a new sense of pride in me for the US election system. I woke up early on November 9th (in St. Petersburg) to watch the results come in and the presenters make their speculations. It was incredible to watch because it was truly unpredictable — no one knew what would happen. I now looked around at the reality of Russia without that sense of surrealism, knowing that something wasn’t right here.
Then came the Black Lives Matter protests across the U.S. There’s lots of discussion about the movement and those early days, but the fact remains that Americans began to deal with the difficulties of our country’s past, especially as concerns slavery and the marginalization of minorities. All of this was happening to build a better future for everyone. It’s messy, but it’s so necessary. Sadly, Russian society hasn’t been able to work through the complexities of its past, with those in power preferring simplified and misleading representations of the country’s history, Russifying the non-Slavic peoples, and suppressing objective research and discussion of the past. The war in Ukraine is one example of what this led to.
I could’ve seen the election in 2016 (and in 2020) and the Black Lives Matter movement while living in the US, but it took me leaving and living in a dictatorship to understand the beauty of democracy. Despite the mess and the strong divides in American society right now, I believe that healing will come because the system is in place that allows for this to happen. It was a long journey for me, but I now can say that I choose to be an American. I won’t necessarily return to live in the U.S. (the world is still a big place for me), but I can now wear this identity with confidence.
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