I once had the honor of spending an afternoon talking to writing guru Len Berkman. He said he’d never met an artist who hadn’t had the experience at some point of being displaced from their own culture, and made to feel an outsider. Thus, the sense of looking on the world without being entirely a part of it is an element of what makes one an artist.
I grew up in Switzerland, and then in Holland as my father worked for an international firm. As part of the expatriate American community I had a strong sense that the country I was living in was not my own, that their ways were not our ways. I remember being woken up in the middle of the night because an American Western was playing on television, and we kids were brought in to watch it because it was part of our culture, not to be missed.
I was nine when we relocated to the U.S., by which time I had a very clear vision of America in my head. It had drinking fountains that dispensed orange juice (my teacher at school in Amsterdam told me this), everyone spoke English, and everyone acted and believed like “us.” My first day at school I parked my bike in the boy’s bike rack, and discovered that I was still a foreigner. The fuss they made!
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