Hello all,
My last post mostly focused on my one-year observations and reflections about living in another country and all the components that being in the Peace Corps encompasses. I know it’s been a long time since that post, and I wanted to say I’m doing well! It’s mid-November, and the school year is coming to a close (graduation will be in December). With that, I am wrapping up projects, working on final reports to share with the community, and planning projects for the next school year. I’m also working on writing my thesis for my Master’s so that I can graduate next May! Although things are coming to a close, I’m still managing to keep myself quite busy!
As my first time living away from the United States and living in another country, I wanted to reflect on what that experience has been like as a U.S. citizen. Although I do not want to discuss politics via this blog, I must say, these reflections have grown deeper throughout the process and results of the elections last week. Before I begin, I must note these thoughts and reflections are my own and do not represent the views of the U.S. Peace Corps or other volunteers.
I’ve been in country for nearly a year and a half now. And, it’s the first time I have ever represented something greater than the person I see in my own reflection. Although it can be easy to forget sometimes, it’s important that I understand that I am a U.S. citizen living in a country that is not my own. I’m not just a visitor or a person living by a personalized agenda. I have goals for why I am here. I swore-in as a volunteer and a representative of the United States to attempt to dig deeper in what we know about ourselves and our neighbors: to build upon our understandings and our differences and take a step forward together. That’s a mission that I very much believe in. With that comes a responsibility that I must constantly recognize that every action, every word, every piece of my work and personal life that people see here reflects my character and my country. There is no “off” switch. I’m constantly representing the United States through what I do (or do not do) and what I say (or do not say). For me, this has been a really interesting, and difficult, experience as I have never known myself to be one person to represent so much. I receive a lot of questions about politics, the military, education, wealth and poverty, immigration, etc. Most questions I receive are harmless and stem from a curiosity to gain an understanding to how or why the world works in different ways. But they have also made me realize how much I don’t know, yet should know, about how my own country works. It’s sparked me to pay more attention and to really understand who and what I represent here and the contextual situations behind the stories and questions I receive.
It’s been interesting to be the one who supposedly holds all the answers about who and what I represent. I had never been in that position, nor had the expectation to speak on behalf of others. I had never been asked before how or why the government works the way it does, or what the goals and workings are of the different branches of the military (which is especially tricky to explain for a country that has not had any armed forces since 1948). I also get asked about immigration and how/why some Latinos are sent back to their home country, yet others are not and make a living for decades. I’m asked about my religious views and how I choose to celebrate holidays such as Halloween and Christmas. I’ve even been asked about how a U.S. citizen might choose to spend their salary (materials, movie tickets, traveling, food, etc.).
One day, I was sitting in the kitchen when a repairman came over to take a look at the refrigerator that wasn’t working. He was making small talk, nothing unusual. But then, he made a comment that he bets that my family goes out and buys a new refrigerator every year. At first, I was offended because of course that’s not true. Refrigerators are expensive, and I don’t want to have to buy one unless I absolutely have to! But then I was thinking, what makes him think that? Is it simply because I’m from the United States? Or, because I have blonde hair and blue eyes, his best guess might be that I most likely come from wealth? Or maybe this repairman thinks of the average U.S. citizen as wasteful with the mentality “if it doesn’t work, just replace it.” Although I don’t have the answer, it’s probably a combination of the three. And that’s what makes these questions that I receive interesting and difficult: there is never one black and white answer. I try my best to respond to questions and curiosities to the best of my ability, while also remaining unbiased and always stating that what I say are my thoughts and many people may (and do) think very differently. I don’t have the answers, I just have opinions. I usually say, “it depends,” and now my host family has picked up on that and started responding, “depends on the person,” and recognizing the vast differences that exist.
But, sometimes the questions aren’t so much a single question, rather a loaded question to get me to really think about what’s going on. For example, one evening I was talking to a man with my host family who works in a pineapple field, and he was explaining how they can’t wear any type of jewelry on their body when working on the farm. When questioned why, he responded something along the lines of: “because what would happen if a sliver of metal from my watch spiked the pineapple that Emily will eat or feed to her children in the U.S.?” Woah. Everything about what he said was a direct stab at privilege. And it was true.
His comment says a lot about privilege and a lot about power. As a female, white, able, Christian, U.S. citizen, I have never had to respond to, or think about for that matter, what my fellow “ingroup” people think based on my race, religion, or nationality. I can think of examples of inequity based on my sex and gender, but I still know that can never compare to what my friends who are female and represent minorities face every day. I’ve studied psychology, sociology, family and community development, and social inequalities. Although I’m not an expert, I’ve studied these situations. We’d talk about the “isms,” privilege, equality vs. equity, development from the bottom-up, etc. I was aware of my privilege and tried to be sensitive of it, but nothing has taught me more about my privilege and what I represent than being here and seeing it in my face. Again, I can never in a million years compare my experience to that of what U.S. citizens who represent minority groups face in the United States, or those volunteers who represent minorities while serving in various parts of the world. I can never expect to be able to feel and know what their realities are like. What I can say is that I am experiencing a new side of my identity. Up to this year in my life I have never been in the position of an outgroup trying to make my way to an ingroup. I’ve never known to hold my identities so true to who I am, and to really think about what I believe in (and why), until I’ve been put in a new mixture of people and culture. I’ve never been so personally, socially, and intellectually challenged. I come from a background of privilege, and that’s part of the reason why I joined the Peace Corps. I wanted to know more. I wanted to learn about a different way of life and new perspective. I wanted to see the world from something other than the rose colored lenses that I always have in my back pocket.
Most of my days here go really well. In fact, most days I’m not questioned about the U.S. and what I, or the citizens, or the politics think or do. I’m not perfect, but sometimes I feel like I have to be in order to represent my identities the best I can. Sometimes I feel like any error is seen or heard. Maybe that’s just my inner paranoia, but then again, maybe it’s not as I remind myself about the philosophy of ingroup/outgroup (the groups we naturally do and do not identify with) and the fundamental attribution error (signifying that one tends to think of their own errors as a natural, external phenomenon and the errors of others due to their personal traits and factors). I sit here, trying to think about what and who I want to represent within my time here. Sometimes I feel the weight on my shoulders being asked to represent the United States as a whole, and I think about how that must feel for other minority groups asked to represent and speak for their identities. It’s not easy. And really, I can’t do it. Nobody can.
I also recognize that I put that pressure on myself. I’ve always been known as the “perfectionist,” but part is also a constant reminder (and valid one) that as volunteers we are the ones who will be watched, viewed, and questioned …not because we are doing things wrong but because we are the different ones and we represent something so immensely huge that it can be hard to make sense of all the stories, news reports, and media accounts of the people and country to which we belong. Thinking about this, I take a step back and think about how that watching, viewing, and questioning is the exact same thing that happens back home…except, I’m not the one in the spotlight.
I am a Peace Corps volunteer, and I take that very seriously. I’m not a tourist or just hanging around going on vacation. I have a job, objectives, and a responsibility. I’m only one person, but I think one person can make a positive impact. One person can make connections, learn, and share. I still have another 10 months in my service to go, but it’s amazing to see the trail behind me of the ups and downs and twists and turns. And I think that’s part of the point: to grow in awareness, both globally and personally. One day I’ll take back what I’ve learned and experienced and share it with coworkers, friends, students, and children. I hope to work with people, not against them. I hope to build relationships, not walls. I hope to speak with kindness, not hate. I hope to serve, not demand. And that’s the best I can do to represent my country while overseas, and the best way I know how to build peace.
My last post mostly focused on my one-year observations and reflections about living in another country and all the components that being in the Peace Corps encompasses. I know it’s been a long time since that post, and I wanted to say I’m doing well! It’s mid-November, and the school year is coming to a close (graduation will be in December). With that, I am wrapping up projects, working on final reports to share with the community, and planning projects for the next school year. I’m also working on writing my thesis for my Master’s so that I can graduate next May! Although things are coming to a close, I’m still managing to keep myself quite busy!
As my first time living away from the United States and living in another country, I wanted to reflect on what that experience has been like as a U.S. citizen. Although I do not want to discuss politics via this blog, I must say, these reflections have grown deeper throughout the process and results of the elections last week. Before I begin, I must note these thoughts and reflections are my own and do not represent the views of the U.S. Peace Corps or other volunteers.
I’ve been in country for nearly a year and a half now. And, it’s the first time I have ever represented something greater than the person I see in my own reflection. Although it can be easy to forget sometimes, it’s important that I understand that I am a U.S. citizen living in a country that is not my own. I’m not just a visitor or a person living by a personalized agenda. I have goals for why I am here. I swore-in as a volunteer and a representative of the United States to attempt to dig deeper in what we know about ourselves and our neighbors: to build upon our understandings and our differences and take a step forward together. That’s a mission that I very much believe in. With that comes a responsibility that I must constantly recognize that every action, every word, every piece of my work and personal life that people see here reflects my character and my country. There is no “off” switch. I’m constantly representing the United States through what I do (or do not do) and what I say (or do not say). For me, this has been a really interesting, and difficult, experience as I have never known myself to be one person to represent so much. I receive a lot of questions about politics, the military, education, wealth and poverty, immigration, etc. Most questions I receive are harmless and stem from a curiosity to gain an understanding to how or why the world works in different ways. But they have also made me realize how much I don’t know, yet should know, about how my own country works. It’s sparked me to pay more attention and to really understand who and what I represent here and the contextual situations behind the stories and questions I receive.
It’s been interesting to be the one who supposedly holds all the answers about who and what I represent. I had never been in that position, nor had the expectation to speak on behalf of others. I had never been asked before how or why the government works the way it does, or what the goals and workings are of the different branches of the military (which is especially tricky to explain for a country that has not had any armed forces since 1948). I also get asked about immigration and how/why some Latinos are sent back to their home country, yet others are not and make a living for decades. I’m asked about my religious views and how I choose to celebrate holidays such as Halloween and Christmas. I’ve even been asked about how a U.S. citizen might choose to spend their salary (materials, movie tickets, traveling, food, etc.).
One day, I was sitting in the kitchen when a repairman came over to take a look at the refrigerator that wasn’t working. He was making small talk, nothing unusual. But then, he made a comment that he bets that my family goes out and buys a new refrigerator every year. At first, I was offended because of course that’s not true. Refrigerators are expensive, and I don’t want to have to buy one unless I absolutely have to! But then I was thinking, what makes him think that? Is it simply because I’m from the United States? Or, because I have blonde hair and blue eyes, his best guess might be that I most likely come from wealth? Or maybe this repairman thinks of the average U.S. citizen as wasteful with the mentality “if it doesn’t work, just replace it.” Although I don’t have the answer, it’s probably a combination of the three. And that’s what makes these questions that I receive interesting and difficult: there is never one black and white answer. I try my best to respond to questions and curiosities to the best of my ability, while also remaining unbiased and always stating that what I say are my thoughts and many people may (and do) think very differently. I don’t have the answers, I just have opinions. I usually say, “it depends,” and now my host family has picked up on that and started responding, “depends on the person,” and recognizing the vast differences that exist.
But, sometimes the questions aren’t so much a single question, rather a loaded question to get me to really think about what’s going on. For example, one evening I was talking to a man with my host family who works in a pineapple field, and he was explaining how they can’t wear any type of jewelry on their body when working on the farm. When questioned why, he responded something along the lines of: “because what would happen if a sliver of metal from my watch spiked the pineapple that Emily will eat or feed to her children in the U.S.?” Woah. Everything about what he said was a direct stab at privilege. And it was true.
His comment says a lot about privilege and a lot about power. As a female, white, able, Christian, U.S. citizen, I have never had to respond to, or think about for that matter, what my fellow “ingroup” people think based on my race, religion, or nationality. I can think of examples of inequity based on my sex and gender, but I still know that can never compare to what my friends who are female and represent minorities face every day. I’ve studied psychology, sociology, family and community development, and social inequalities. Although I’m not an expert, I’ve studied these situations. We’d talk about the “isms,” privilege, equality vs. equity, development from the bottom-up, etc. I was aware of my privilege and tried to be sensitive of it, but nothing has taught me more about my privilege and what I represent than being here and seeing it in my face. Again, I can never in a million years compare my experience to that of what U.S. citizens who represent minority groups face in the United States, or those volunteers who represent minorities while serving in various parts of the world. I can never expect to be able to feel and know what their realities are like. What I can say is that I am experiencing a new side of my identity. Up to this year in my life I have never been in the position of an outgroup trying to make my way to an ingroup. I’ve never known to hold my identities so true to who I am, and to really think about what I believe in (and why), until I’ve been put in a new mixture of people and culture. I’ve never been so personally, socially, and intellectually challenged. I come from a background of privilege, and that’s part of the reason why I joined the Peace Corps. I wanted to know more. I wanted to learn about a different way of life and new perspective. I wanted to see the world from something other than the rose colored lenses that I always have in my back pocket.
Most of my days here go really well. In fact, most days I’m not questioned about the U.S. and what I, or the citizens, or the politics think or do. I’m not perfect, but sometimes I feel like I have to be in order to represent my identities the best I can. Sometimes I feel like any error is seen or heard. Maybe that’s just my inner paranoia, but then again, maybe it’s not as I remind myself about the philosophy of ingroup/outgroup (the groups we naturally do and do not identify with) and the fundamental attribution error (signifying that one tends to think of their own errors as a natural, external phenomenon and the errors of others due to their personal traits and factors). I sit here, trying to think about what and who I want to represent within my time here. Sometimes I feel the weight on my shoulders being asked to represent the United States as a whole, and I think about how that must feel for other minority groups asked to represent and speak for their identities. It’s not easy. And really, I can’t do it. Nobody can.
I also recognize that I put that pressure on myself. I’ve always been known as the “perfectionist,” but part is also a constant reminder (and valid one) that as volunteers we are the ones who will be watched, viewed, and questioned …not because we are doing things wrong but because we are the different ones and we represent something so immensely huge that it can be hard to make sense of all the stories, news reports, and media accounts of the people and country to which we belong. Thinking about this, I take a step back and think about how that watching, viewing, and questioning is the exact same thing that happens back home…except, I’m not the one in the spotlight.
I am a Peace Corps volunteer, and I take that very seriously. I’m not a tourist or just hanging around going on vacation. I have a job, objectives, and a responsibility. I’m only one person, but I think one person can make a positive impact. One person can make connections, learn, and share. I still have another 10 months in my service to go, but it’s amazing to see the trail behind me of the ups and downs and twists and turns. And I think that’s part of the point: to grow in awareness, both globally and personally. One day I’ll take back what I’ve learned and experienced and share it with coworkers, friends, students, and children. I hope to work with people, not against them. I hope to build relationships, not walls. I hope to speak with kindness, not hate. I hope to serve, not demand. And that’s the best I can do to represent my country while overseas, and the best way I know how to build peace.