“I Hate Hate Hate Americans”

So I was shocked. But it happened again. And again. And by people that I really liked. I mean people that I would have gone to war for. Yet they had this hatred of Americans, and it really threw me. It didn’t even matter that with my mother being American that I was technically being attacked; it was just the concept of it all. They didn’t like a group of people based on where they had been born. Isn’t that racism at its core? No one gets a choice how and where they come into this world, so why should any judgment be passed?

These events really shaped how I presented myself to others, and I strove to be nationless.  The other people I worked with were from a mix of different countries, and they were all usually identifiable in some way as one nationality or another, but I was the one they couldn’t pin down. My accent mutated, my speech mixed English and Australian expressions with American ones, and my travel and work experience allowed me to talk about other countries relatively easily.

 “I won’t waste it/ I won’t waste it/ I won’t waste my love on a nation,” are great lyrics by Black Rebel Motorcycle Club. Maybe that patriotism was needed back in the day when countries were really separated and wars could occur that really only benefited the victor. Nowadays, with virtually all countries wrapped up in each other financially, and a third global war highly unlikely as a result, is that country loving necessary?

A person once said to me that he thought sporting events were a great concept, and that international ones really served to bring the people within a nation together. I still don’t get that. Why take pride in your country beating another? Are you really that special because of where you were born? Seriously, in this day and age, you believe that? To me that speaks of desperation, of a need to do some looking at yourself, rather than at the place where you live.

If you define yourself based on your nationality, you are not that interesting of a person. You are lumping yourself in with a bunch of other people who just happened to be born in the same place that you were born. You might as well be proud that you are white, or black, or any other shade in between. Pride should come from decisions you’ve made and actions you’ve taken, not chance encounters. Sort yourself out is the advice I have for that girl who introduced me to the level of hatred one can feel for another group of people. If you want to hate someone go right ahead, but have the decency to do so for what this individual has decided to do, not because of where they happened to be born.