Token American

I’m not going to comment much on the Faith Fippinger story except to say that if being a human shield isn’t illegal, it ought to be.

Den Beste's take on it pretty much reflects how I feel about the BBC’s latest report on the case. I’ve been following the story for a while, and I thought this FindLaw article from Julie Hilden in August provided a good summary of the arguments.

Of course, now that the BBC has run the story, I’m sure that as the only American in my immediate social group I’m going to be asked what I think about it. I'm usually pleased to be asked my opinion but sometimes it gets tedious.

One of the problems with being an American abroad is that, on occasion, you’re liable to be held personally responsible for the actions of your government and assorted fellow citizens. I often find myself the token American in such situations, although "scapegoat" might more accurately describe it.

My various accusers, who are by their own estimation “reasonable people”, will usually allow me an escape clause: If I’m ready and willing to condemn the Bush administration, all of American foreign and domestic policy (since the year dot) and admit that my country is indeed the source of all evil in the world, then I may escape censure.

Of course, depending on the company I’m in, I might also be required to accept that all Americans are stupid, shallow people, uniquely ignorant of the wider world and a threat to the survival of life as we know it. This is somewhat problematic for me and occasionally for the boys, who sometimes get the same kind of treatment from their peers at school and, once or twice, from their teachers too.

When it’s just me and not my kids, I don’t have to confront it - I could easily walk away. Or I could just ignore it and pretend I’m not American. English educated and coached in voice - believe me, I can do the accent. If you met me for the first time and didn’t know I was American, I'm pretty sure you’d never guess. That goes double for the boys: Mac’s family are English and the boys were all born here, so for all intents and purposes they are English. They don’t have to identify with the States and I guess I don’t have to either. But we do.

British people mostly assume quite naturally that I'm English and are often genuinely surprised when I tell them I’m not and that I wouldn’t necessarily want to be. On hearing this, some have remarked, quite brusquely, that if I’m so fond of America perhaps I should go back there. Over the years, I’ve heard so many variations on “Yankee go home”, I’m surprised I haven’t gone.

I liked England as child and very much looked forward to visiting. But when I finally arrived to go to school here I was made to feel distinctly unwelcome. It seemed, at times, the only choice I had was total exclusion or complete assimilation.

Even now, people who know me well profess that they find it hard to understand why I don’t just become British, with all the supposed benefits it would bring. Strangely, I don’t see any benefits at all. And even if there were some obvious gain to be had from it, abandoning my nationality would mean turning my back on a family heritage and a tradition of service that are a big part of who I am.

Anyway, like I said, I haven't exactly been welcomed with open arms, so perhaps it's not surprising I don't want to join the gang. Yes, I pass freely as an Englishman but it’s really only an act. And I can't keep it for long; after a while, it starts to feel like a straight-jacket.

I guess I could try harder to fit in, and I’m not really trying to stand out, but I’m not English. I‘m an American and I'm proud of it.