What It’s Like To Belong To Two Different Cultures

Time for the Weekend Freewrite! Every Saturday or Sunday–depending on how lazy I am–I’ll write a short essay about whatever I feel like. This week: what being a part of two countries means to me.

I am American. I was born in a small town outside of Milwaukee, grew up near Phoenix, and now live in Tucson. I speak English as a first language. My schooling is largely American, and I’ve worked in the United States as well. Both of my parents and my brother are from the USA; they still reside near Phoenix. I visit them on holidays.

I am also German. I have spent extensive amounts of time in Bonn, Frankfurt, Munich, and Stuttgart. I speak German fluently, almost without an accent. My schooling was partially German, and I’ve worked in Germany as well. My uncle, cousins, and some of my closest friends are from Germany; many still reside in Bonn. I visit them during summers.

To belong to two different countries and cultures can be tiring. Oftentimes, I will look out the window of my apartment in Tucson, and reminisce on the view from my apartment in Frankfurt. There is no logical reason for this, of course. The view from my Tucson apartment is a picturesque scene of the city’s downtown area, tucked neatly behind a row of trees. The view from my Frankfurt apartment was a dingy alleyway where the junkies would congregate. Oftentimes, when visiting friends in Germany, I will begin to miss my friends in the United States and often start to wonder what they are doing. There is no logical reason for this, of course. I see many of my American friends daily for nine months straight, whereas I can only see my German friends once a year at best.

To belong to two different countries and cultures can be exciting. I celebrated the German victory in the 2014 World Cup in the United States, while wearing my old Miroslav Klose jersey. In the restaurant where I watched the final game against Argentina, the majority of the patrons were either German or supporting Germany. We gave Klose a standing ovation when he was subbed off the pitch for what would be the final time in his career with the Nationalmannschaft. We exploded with joy when Mario Götze scored the game winning goal in overtime, and then again when the final whistle blew. Germany’s victory at the World Cup became a symbol of hope, of joy for me during the hardest time in my life so far.

I felt as though my life had fallen apart. Within one month, I lost one of my closest friends to cancer and my girlfriend to differing dreams for the future. I couldn’t keep up with school and eventually had a nervous breakdown. The stress just became too much to bear. Some American friends talked me into visiting a therapist, where I learned that I suffer from bipolar disorder, and this information, combined with all that had recently happened, seemed like it could break me. But, my second home had just won the World Cup, and that mattered. That was something. It was hope, and it was a reminder. It was a reminder that if I could get through all this now, I’d get to go back to Germany.

To belong to two different countries and cultures is valuable. America provided me with support, and Germany gave me hope. At the end of the day, I needed both countries to get back on my feet and to move onwards, and I would never have recovered as well as I did otherwise. Yes, it can be tiring to be constantly homesick and feel like you do not belong in any one place. But sometimes the world reminds me that I don’t belong in any one place; I belong in two, and without both, I haven’t a clue what I would be like today.

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