Tanay Adams: The American Effect

There are two side effects of being an American. One is the great pride felt whenever you see the flag waving, whenever you hear of a journalist exercising their right to freedom of speech, and whenever the news announces that America has rushed to the aid of another country. When you know that our Star-Spangled Banner is the best National Anthem this world has got to offer, and that before any genuine sporting event, you’ll hear a celebrity knock that song out of the park.

But the other side effect happens to be one less glamourous than the first: A symptom I hadn't genuinely felt in my twenty years of living until I was sitting in an evening politics class in Winchester, England. To this day, I still don't have a clear grasp on what I felt in that classroom that day, and though I could use words like guilt, shame, confusion, and ignorance, none of those independently sum up the smorgasbord emotions that was coursing through my chest. Within one semester overseas, the great American pill I had been swallowing patriotically every day since birth finally showed a side-effect that wasn't exactly written on the label.

For my first semester of my junior year, I chose to continue my education in England at Winchester University. As a Political Science major I took on two politics classes, a film class, and a conspiracy course to give me a bit of a break from politics, and those who are super invested into it. My first class was Political and Religious Themes in the Middle East, which I was greatly excited about because there aren't many classes that teach about Islam, or the political structures of the Middle East without strong prejudices. I predicted taking this class in England would give me a less "American" view of Muslims, their social order, and their politics so I could be better informed, and surprisingly, I seemed to have had predicted correctly.

I walked to class that day with a fellow Political Science major from Covington, Georgia, Tyler, who was one of the people I would consider super invested in politics. It was all he spoke, cared, and thought about. He could turn the most mundane conversation into something about politics, and had been gaining notoriety fast since we touched down in London, as "that American Guy". You see he, like most Americans, had a thing for wearing the American Flag. Whether it was on his shirt, his shoes, his socks, or even on his underwear, you could always count on him wearing Old Glory. The first day of class wasn't any different because he showed up looking like the poster boy for Old Navy, and it put us in an uncomfortable position.

We opened the door of our classroom and twenty-three pairs of dark amber eyes cut us down at the threshold of the door. I immediately felt self-conscious, but it wasn’t because of what I was wearing; it because of what I was. Everyone in the classroom seemed to either be from the Middle East or North Africa, besides the two Norwegian boys who sat silently in the corner, and all the women wore the hijab. Instantly, I knew that this wasn't one of those classes I would be actively raising my hand to comment on every single topic; I knew that this was one of those classes I would learn more by remaining silent.

For the first two weeks I was very uncomfortable in that class, not only because they were different, but because I was different. The students refused to use our names, and simply called us "The Americans". They never spoke to us during group work, or by choice really, and we had to suffer through the small snide remarks directed at America in every discussion. The class was discussion-based, which meant that it was predominately up to the students to steer the classroom discussion freely, and this had never truly been a problem until the discussion arrived at the Iraq and American conflict. The tension that had been building up throughout the semester became more apparent as the professor refreshed our memories on the events that took place from 2001 until now, and with the mention of US invasion it finally snapped. The teacher refused for Tyler and me to stay silent and gently forced us to speak up about this issue.

At first, Tyler hurled his typical speeches in defense of America that were akin to those heard by the previous president, or Fox News, but as the questions kept coming it became more difficult to answer them. They were asking questions of morals and international law, and we were responding with the fearful rhetoric most were using after watching the Twin Towers fall. The further into the discussion we got, the less sure we felt about what we were saying.

We faced questions that wondered who made America the king of the world, and why do Americans always believe that they're the only country that is free. Why do American women look down on Arabic women as oppressed simply because they wear the hijab, and why they cared if they did or not. They asked us why it was ok for America to bomb cities inside a country without notifying the government, and why Islam is seen as the barbaric religion when Christianity sent crusades to kill people in their personal "jihad". The questions poured out the mouths of these students, and it didn't matter what kind of political patriotic script we were reading from, it didn't make sense to them, and as we said it out loud it didn't make sense to us either.

I was born and raised an Army Brat with a strong bias towards the American military and defense system. At a young age, I understood that my father was going to war for a year, and there was a chance that I may never see him again after watching him walk away in an airport. I have prepared for my father's death countless times, and the sad truth is that I am still prepared to this day. Even at a young age I, and all of my Army Brat friends, understood that it was better to have high casualties on the other side than our dad’s name on a list of casualties. Without being fully conscious, I had generalized an entire region and stripped them of their faces in order for me to deal with war. Early on, I had dehumanized them, and after maturing physically and mentally, somehow I had forgotten to paste back on their faces until the moment I was sitting in that classroom.

I'm embarrassed to say it now, but I cried. I cried and I couldn't explain into actual words why, but I knew I had to in order to feel like I wasn't going to explode. One of the Norwegian boys in the corner, Lucas, handed me a tissue and Tyler just stared at his lap for the last ten minutes of class.

I rethought every misunderstood preconception and ignorant comment I've ever made about Islam, the Middle East, and their people; I looked at my fellow classmates and thought "How?" How could I suddenly forget that a whole region had feelings, families, and morals? I wondered why I thought that different was automatically evil, and why with all my acquired skills, and desire to learn, I had never addressed to fix a line of thinking that had started in my childhood. I felt guilty that it had taken so long for me to finally address it, and I felt ashamed that back home no one takes the time to answer the questions that these students asked me.

I wonder do Americans even care, and if it would take them sitting in a classroom where they are the minority to fully understand the weight of being an American. Every class wasn't as intense as that certain one was, and the students eventually warmed up to us once we all let go of our stereotypes, but I will never forget that day even if I tried.

International Students Meet-and-Greet

I ended up getting an A in that class, which usually is enough of a testament to me that I learned something, but this time, I didn’t need the A to affirm that I had indeed learned. I knew that I had gained something from that experience when I could no longer look at the world the same way. The pessimistic way of thinking I had adopted through studying politics and world order became less, and the hunger to learn about what we fear began to grow.

By stepping outside of my comfort zone mentally and physically, I was able to learn a lesson that couldn’t be taught by a teacher nor a book, but needed to be taught by my peers. It needed to be taught by the people who my ignorance was affecting, and I needed to learn this lesson before entering into any political field.   Because I was granted the opportunity to study abroad, I was able to feel the true weight and the second symptom of being an American. For that, I am truly grateful, and for that, I have truly changed.

                                                                             

Tanay Adams is a Political Science major who studied in Winchester, England during fall 2015. She is expected to graduate in spring 2017 with plans of attending graduate school for education.