This has me imagining a cross-stitch depiction of a cottage with a cosy garden out front, and the text: home is where I can legally remain indefinitely.
Another very interesting piece, James and, being half-German and having spent a number of years in my twenties living there, one with which I can empathise. I’m never quite sure whether the sense of detachment I feel is due to my dual heritage, or whether it’s down to the fact that, growing up in the 60s I, like many others at the time was always wary of nationalism of any kind and therefore more inclined to think of myself as a ‘citizen of the world’ than of one country. We were brought up (and to some extent taught) by people with memories of world war and a determination never to let it happen again. We were also influenced by the ‘spirit of 68’ - protests against US war in Vietnam, the student movement, CND, etc. Sadly that spirit has all but disappeared for most, but not all of us.
That knowledge thing is interesting as well. I’ve often felt that the UK has an anti-intellect/knowledge/education bias, as encapsulated by Gove’s infamous comment that we’ve had enough of experts, whereas German culture has always held those things in much higher esteem.
But these are all things most of us learn to live with, sometimes less than comfortably, and ‘home’ becomes more of a best-fit for our lives than anywhere else.
Thanks for exploring nationality and expatness. I'm just 5 years into French life and feeling that I'm no longer sure of my identity. People ask if I'll ever take French citizenship and I've no idea, even though I expect to live out my life here.
Brilliant piece. It's often only the absence of something (or at least being well aware of the alternatives) that makes you truly aware of its existence in the first place.
I very much agree with what you wrote on polymathic knowledge or foreign language skills being viewed with suspicion. I speak pretty good Spanish, but don't really share this information with others aside from a few close friends. Your article prompted me to think over why this is the case, and I think it's to avoid the question "Why?". It's not really something I have a great answer to - I would probably mumble out something like "let's me converse with hundreds of millions of people, and good for business" but my real thought is essentially to flip the question and ask "Why not?". This isn't to say that the "Why?" question never comes from genuine curiosity, but it does often feel like an interrogation. I'm not quite sure why, but if it were suddenly revealed to a room of people that I speak Spanish, the feeling I would get is embarrassment.
The same very much occurs with other bits of knowledge deemed outside of 'your realm', I've found. History is one of my interests outside of sport and language learning, and I've found that in certain circles, sharing some historical knowledge often gets a "why does he know that?" sort-of-feeling in the air. It's as if many people regard knowledge as something 'other' that should appear on The Chase or as a quirky fact on QI, rather than be shown by those they interact with in real life.
I remember years ago I was in a pub and Werder Bremen were playing and I mentioned to two English guys there that 'Werder' meant 'river peninsula' (I'd looked it up because it seemed a weird word). And the smug little looks they gave each other - 'Who does he think he is?' Whereas I was just sharing some knowledge, not trying to convince them of my smarts.
This has me imagining a cross-stitch depiction of a cottage with a cosy garden out front, and the text: home is where I can legally remain indefinitely.
I didn't even mention my experience with the Home Office, which have no doubt contributed to my sense of unease.
Another very interesting piece, James and, being half-German and having spent a number of years in my twenties living there, one with which I can empathise. I’m never quite sure whether the sense of detachment I feel is due to my dual heritage, or whether it’s down to the fact that, growing up in the 60s I, like many others at the time was always wary of nationalism of any kind and therefore more inclined to think of myself as a ‘citizen of the world’ than of one country. We were brought up (and to some extent taught) by people with memories of world war and a determination never to let it happen again. We were also influenced by the ‘spirit of 68’ - protests against US war in Vietnam, the student movement, CND, etc. Sadly that spirit has all but disappeared for most, but not all of us.
That knowledge thing is interesting as well. I’ve often felt that the UK has an anti-intellect/knowledge/education bias, as encapsulated by Gove’s infamous comment that we’ve had enough of experts, whereas German culture has always held those things in much higher esteem.
But these are all things most of us learn to live with, sometimes less than comfortably, and ‘home’ becomes more of a best-fit for our lives than anywhere else.
Thanks for exploring nationality and expatness. I'm just 5 years into French life and feeling that I'm no longer sure of my identity. People ask if I'll ever take French citizenship and I've no idea, even though I expect to live out my life here.
Brilliant piece. It's often only the absence of something (or at least being well aware of the alternatives) that makes you truly aware of its existence in the first place.
I very much agree with what you wrote on polymathic knowledge or foreign language skills being viewed with suspicion. I speak pretty good Spanish, but don't really share this information with others aside from a few close friends. Your article prompted me to think over why this is the case, and I think it's to avoid the question "Why?". It's not really something I have a great answer to - I would probably mumble out something like "let's me converse with hundreds of millions of people, and good for business" but my real thought is essentially to flip the question and ask "Why not?". This isn't to say that the "Why?" question never comes from genuine curiosity, but it does often feel like an interrogation. I'm not quite sure why, but if it were suddenly revealed to a room of people that I speak Spanish, the feeling I would get is embarrassment.
The same very much occurs with other bits of knowledge deemed outside of 'your realm', I've found. History is one of my interests outside of sport and language learning, and I've found that in certain circles, sharing some historical knowledge often gets a "why does he know that?" sort-of-feeling in the air. It's as if many people regard knowledge as something 'other' that should appear on The Chase or as a quirky fact on QI, rather than be shown by those they interact with in real life.
I remember years ago I was in a pub and Werder Bremen were playing and I mentioned to two English guys there that 'Werder' meant 'river peninsula' (I'd looked it up because it seemed a weird word). And the smug little looks they gave each other - 'Who does he think he is?' Whereas I was just sharing some knowledge, not trying to convince them of my smarts.