Ellen Greer on Faith and Identity as an American Abroad

By: Ellen Greer

April 28, 2010

Dear President Obama,

Freundliche Gruße aus Berlin, Mr. President. My name is Ellen, and I am a fellow U.S. citizen, studying abroad in Berlin, Germany. You may remember Berlin. You tried to speak in front of the Brandenburger Tor in June 2008, but your buddy Angela Merkel told you that only heads of state could pop a photo op squat in front of this most iconic of German monuments.

In any case, that's where I am. My school, Humboldt Universität zu Berlin, is actually just down the street from the Brandenbug Gates, right next to some big museums and a Protestant cathedral (no one really enforced the Catholic bishop requirement for cathedral status, it seems). But enough about landmarks, Mr. President. I'd like to talk to you about faith and identity. President Obama, I am pleased to inform you that this is not my first time abroad. In fact, I spent my junior year of high school in Rennes, France. This was 2005 to 2006, the year France was “burning” due to some labor rights protests and general civil unrest, as well as the home stretch of the George W. Bush administration.

Being an angsty teenager lends itself well to cynicism, but beyond the typical 17-year-old malaise, I felt extraordinarily disillusioned. I was a global ambassador to France, a representative of a nation that had royally screwed up. I was shocked to learn about Guantánamo Bay Detention Camp, embarrassed to hear my elected executive speak publicly, and saddened by our State Department's M.O. of international bullying and disregard. It was unsafe to admit to being an American, especially an American girl. You know what the two responses were from (drunk) strangers whenever they discovered my shameful American-ness? 1. So you want to come home with me tonight? 2. F*** Bush! F*** you! Nice, huh? I can honestly report that I had no pride in my country, because there was seemingly nothing solid in which to root my faith. All I had was a sad sliver of hope.

As you may know, one is most American when one is abroad. Nationality becomes one of the primary facts I state about myself. I grin and get down when they play American hip-hop in the club. I notice that my people and my government are notably present in even the local news. This time around, in Berlin in 2010, this top layer of my identity means something very different. Now I get, “"Oh cool. So you're not Erasmus?”" instead of an automatic lewd invitation for later liaisons. And, Mr. President, I think a lot of that has to do with you, the work you're doing, and what you symbolize to the world. When talking about my national identity, I can tell the story of running from my campus to the White House on election night. I can explain how you signed the Lilly Ledbetter Fair Pay Act the moment you stepped into office. I can point to a foreign service that works with other nations, rather than undercutting them for exclusively our own gains.

President Obama, I am a long-time atheist and a recent patriot. I finally have something to believe in. I have faith in a very large, ethereal thing, one that I am undeniably a part of (haven't lost my passport yet!). This belief in America, in something invisibly resting in my skin, is a faith that I don't plan to give up on any time soon. Perhaps that tinge of optimism for the future was faith too—but all I know is that now, I can act my pride to be an American. I can live this faith.

Sincerest Regards,
Ellen A. Greer

Opens in a new window