Abenteuer 2015
Honors Berlin/Jena
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Journal Reflection #4

7/20/2015

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In this last reflection piece, I will attempt to put together some of the many parts of the program “Reenacting German and American Identities,” specifically touching upon historical narratives, identity labels, historical appropriation, and my own reflections on identity. This post will by no means synthesize every discussion that took place over the course of the program, or even the four day section in Jena: there is simply too much to discuss all at once. That said, I would like to start this post by examining the differing historical narratives between the United States and Germany.

I was fortunate to be able to participate in a discussion with students and professors from Friedrich-Schiller University and U.S. General Consul Scott Reidmann about German perceptions of America. Naturally, the NSA came up, as well as American’s openness when it comes to posting on the internet. Consul Reidmann suggested that Americans are much more individualistic when it comes to choosing what is appropriate to post online because we have a very individualistic history, having “thrown off the yoke of British rule.” Germany’s history, on the other hand, is a story of unification, a binding of different city-states and kingdoms into one nation. I wondered if this historical difference between the two nations could explain why Germans as a whole are much more supportive of a nationalized health system and heavily subsidized higher education. It appears that the strong “states’ right” movement in the US hinders such national consensus from forming, as it has in Germany.

Simplifying German and American identity into one idea is overly simplistic, of course. The definition of what being “German” or “American” means can vary greatly between individuals. Looking closer at the history of both nations, it is also clear that one historical narrative cannot accurately describe the formation of such identities. Germany’s East/West divide created a part of Germany that, to this day, tends to believe more firmly in socialist, community-oriented ideals. One only needs to look at the varying portrayals of Native Americans in the former GDR and West Germany: in the GDR, Native Americans were portrayed as the protagonists against an oppressive colonizer. This portrayal attempted to validate the idea that the GDR was being oppressed by the West. Similarly, varying interpretations of the Confederate flag in the US attest to the power of regional forces in determining identity. Many Southerners are still inclined to believe that the Confederate flag represents states’ rights and southern culture, as opposed to racism (the dominant narrative in non-Southern states).

How German and American identity is defined also has its roots in the appropriation of history through what is taught in the educational systems. In Jena, many of my fellow American students confessed that they did not learn much about Native Americans. Unlike Germany’s strong focus on the Holocaust (concentration camp visits are mandatory at many schools), few states in the US focus on the history of Native Americans. And few people have been on an Indian Reservation. Similarly, Japanese internment is something that is also shied away from. “Winners write history”—this appears to be true in some countries, like the US, but not in others (Germany—although in the case of WWII, arguably nobody won). The depiction of historical events, or other cultures, in textbooks and in classrooms, shapes an entire generation’s outlook on a particular event: where loyalties and sympathies lie, how the past is interpreted, and how this interpretation is incorporated into the future. For instance, it is generally taught that Union winning the Civil War was “good,” and that this “goodness” necessarily implies that the Confederate’s way of life (slavery) was “bad.” What is the dominant interpretation of the Union winning was that it was “bad’—would slavery have been re-instituted as the norm?

Identity is a term that is highly subjective, always shifting, and very elusive. Identity takes on many forms an can be influenced by many different factors—race, ethnicity, gender, sexuality, language, religion, geographic location, socioeconomic status, immigrant status, education level, occupation, etc…This program allowed me to explore identity both through academic and non-academic lenses; I explored other people’s identities, as well as my own. Some of the strongest memories I have from this study abroad program involve my identity as an Arab-American. It seemed that everywhere I went in Berlin (and even Jena), I ran into Arabs who had their own falafel or doner stands. I even helped two women on vacation from Palestine navigate the U-Bahn once. A lot of the people I talked to (in Arabic) were surprised at how well I spoke Arabic, given that I have lived in the United States my entire life. I realized, through these discussions, that I had something in common with all of these Arabs: we were all products of diaspora. We were what happens when war ravages your country and the economy is in shambles: people relocate to faraway lands and build new lives. Germany, the United States, Canada, Argentina, Brazil, Denmark, Sweden, Iceland, Zambia, Nigeria…these are just a few places where I personally know Arabs have relocated to in order to build better lives. I had never really considered my identity as being a part of this great migration trend, as being a product of a diaspora, but I realized in Germany that just because I wasn’t the one who immigrated didn’t mean that I wasn’t a part of this whole movement. I am connected to these strangers by language and by distance from our ancestral roots.

I would like to conclude by saying that I don’t know what kind of impact this study abroad program will have on me quite yet, considering it ended just two days ago. What I do know is that I already feel more globally connected, especially given my newfound realizations about my own identity. The question truly becomes “now what?”—how will I apply what I have learned in Berlin and Jena to my life in the Seattle? Only time will answer these questions. 

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Journal Reflection #3

7/3/2015

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This week I have had a lot of interesting conversations. Part of this is due to the subpar Wi-Fi available at the hostel, which means that I am forced to interact with the world rather than scroll through Facebook. *Sigh* But I guess talking to people is good—I mean, aren’t we inherently social beings? Our program theme is “identity,” and conversations are prime place where identification occurs. In a conversation, we position ourselves in relationships according to who has knowledge, who has information, who has the more interesting story to tell. Conversations can reveal which kinds of identities we identify with.

I finally managed to visit Ruby on Tuesday, a small boutique two doors down from the hostel. The owner, Martyna, is an artist who makes jewelry using silk screening. It is stunning. Some of her pieces are on acrylic, others are on gold and teal metals. I wandered in and started asking her the usual questions--how much does this cost? What is this made out of?—but I soon found myself engrossed in a conversation about her work. How did she make such amazing designs? What materials did she use? She only hinted at the answers, reluctant to give up her secrets of the trade. We talked about her long commute to Kreuzberg from Wedding. About the Mauerpark flea market. Her voice was very soothing. She had a big dog. I wished I could be as artistic as she was. I wished I had a dog. I left this conversation determined to buy a piece of jewelry from her later on, and with a newfound appreciation for people who have the patience to sit in front of tiny little pieces of metal and turn them into shiny, lustrous objects.

On Wednesday, I interviewed a lecturer at Humboldt. The majority of the conversation was strictly about my research project. Towards the end, however, when the topic of the research project had waned, we began to contrast Americans’ and Germans’ attitudes towards universal healthcare. He told me that most other Germans he had talked to, including himself, cannot fathom the divisive debates raging over ‘Obamacare.’ In his words, even the current conservative government “wouldn’t dare get rid of our healthcare system because it’s fucking great.” There was a similar attitude towards education: the rest of the world apparently finds it fascinating that American students pay so much for a degree. Professor Isensee put it nicely during his lecture: in Germany, “education is a basic human right, and you don’t charge for that. But this is something that our society has decided that others have not yet.” The idea of solidarity and consensus were prevalent in both Professor Isensee’s lecture and in this tangential conversation with the lecturer. In the United States, we are fixated on individualism, which hinders us from empathizing with each other.

The strangest conversation of the week occurred at Good Pie in Kreuzberg. Good Pie is owned by a gang of British dudes. I asked them what was up with the pies, and they told me that their pies were “like the kind in England, but better.” I asked them why they decided to come to Berlin, and they replied: “well, it’s a pretty funky city, so we thought, why not? And besides, this city was crying out for some good pies.”

Disconnected from Netflix, Facebook, and the other wonders of the internet, conversation has become a greater part of my life, and something that I hope to continue more in Seattle. Sitting down, standing up—talking. Speaking with our voices instead of our thumbs. Going back to the good old days. 

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