I Tried to Leave Home and Home Followed Me

By: Taylor Davis

February 8, 2019

As a black American student on the continent of Africa, so much of my thought process in choosing a study abroad program was heavily focused on the concept of race. Attending a predominantly white institution like Georgetown—with its ever-present roots of black exploitation (that are still yet to be fully addressed)—can be emotionally, academically, and spiritually taxing. Therefore, the thought of studying in South Africa at the University of the Western Cape (an institution somewhat equivalent to a historically black college or university in the United States) sparked excitement inside of me.

I wasn’t under the illusion that I’d be making some triumphant “return to home” or feel a deep relation to South Africa, as my family’s roots are in Western Africa. However, it has still been a shock to realize that the feelings of ostracization and otherness didn’t simply melt away. On the one hand, I finally have the amazing and affirming opportunity to occupy an academic space where the majority of folks look like me; I’ve been able to blend in reasonably well. On the other hand, I’ve also been forced to take a much harder and longer look at the facets of my identity that I’d previously taken for granted or deemed insignificant.

At every other turn, I feel like I’m “outing” myself as an American, whether it be my tendency to walk to the right on the sidewalk, my frivolity with running water, or my flustered English responses when someone attempts to speak to me in a local language like isiXhosa. After my status as an American exchange student emerges, the subsequent conversations usually involve Trump or how I’m acclimating to the culture shift. The discussions about Trump feel like the exact opposite of what I came abroad to do; I was hoping that five months outside of the United States would be some sort of respite from the political happenings at home. However, I’m trying to restructure this point of view and understand that the option of ignoring or stepping away from American politics is rather privileged, especially in the context of using a study abroad experience to seek out political respite. I’ve decided to remain reasonably engaged with the current affairs back home, but also to prioritize learning about South African politics and social change as they undergo an important election year. I’ve made this decision both on the basis of my interest in fully immersing myself in South African culture and also in the interest of deflecting conversations that force me to talk about 45.

One of the most important pieces of information I received during my program’s orientation was a simple daily mantra: “It doesn’t suck; it’s just different.” I’ll carry this mantra with me whenever I travel outside of the United States. Although I don’t think of the United States and our culture as superior to any other culture, I have noticed that tension emerges in my body and mind when things don’t go the way I think they should or I miss a comfort of home. I’m viewing study abroad as an opportunity to refine my abilities in the realm of adaptation. Whether in reference to my status as an American or any other aspect of my identity that has the potential to bring up moments of discomfort and self-appraisal, I hope that I can continue to transmute the energy of frustration or awkwardness from these cross-cultural exchanges into much more useful energy forms. This includes keeping a commitment to learning inside and outside of the classroom, maintaining a high appreciation for the amazing opportunity before me, and actively embracing the beauty and possibility of difference.

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