wow – American immediately makes me think of freedom, the people in the world angry at Americans, of the slavery of the past, of struggles in daily life, of prosperity, the poor, challenges, beauty of the land.
Annette
American — what does it mean to be American? How can it mean one thing when we hyphenate ourselves — Mexican-American, African-American, etc.?
the american dream is ridiculous. follow YOUR dream. be more. HOW CAN YOU BE MORE? try harder. move out of your comfort zone, believe in yourself, believe in something bigger. be more than an american. be a citizen of the world! CAUSE MORE SOLUTIONS
taylor
american people are very privelged people we have more than most people in the world have today we have more food than most people and we have more businesses and jobs for people to full up..
aeryal neurohr
“Me?!” Clara paused. “I suppose I could teach it, but only at a very low level; to kids, maybe. I’m just a big boned, too-tall American. It should be a French woman, really. But it’s not just ballet!. There are hundreds of arts and sports we have lost, or will lose, because we didn’t bring the practitioners with us.” Morris leaned toward her. “There are forty thousand of us here, and we’re not all engineers and scientists. The Committee planned this very well. They wanted to save Humanity, not just humans!”
tonykeyesjapan
The fellow passenger seemed dull and boring. So I struck up a conversation asking him where he’s coming from. He replied, Cambodia. Well, that wasn’t the boring-est reply. Then he said, but I’m American. and I thought, well that explains it.
Kasturi Roy
I think of July 4th and parties in the summer red, white, and blue the american flag.
I’m just an American. What do I know about anything? We’re selfish, rude busy bodies. We don’t care about our brothers, the poor or the weak. We are villains with smiling masks on our faces. How sad.
I am glad that I’m not an american. The guns scare me. There is no way back from allowing guns to be used for protection. They have the highest rate of gun deaths in the world.
American’s think they are better and smarter than the rest of the world.
Leeza
The american was happy because he was free. He roamed the plains, drinking int eh deep, effervescent blue sky, the yellow sand, gritty with brown pebbles. He’d found his horse and called her Freda, for the first wife he’d never married. She died some months ago, and since then he had found himself here more often, in this cactus landscape of no boundaries and few barriers.
Natasha
He is from american.
I’m is american.
All american are working.
Altair
She was American and she liked corn.
laughalittle
Ok friends. circle up. the american says it’s time to make a movie. so pull out your spyglass and get your neighbor in your sights. make it run, make it spool, make it right or don’t make it at all. at attention, intervention. now, cut.
The American is fat, lazy, rude, racist and a pig. The Canadian is fat, lazy, rude, racist and a pig. The American is kind, helpful, and has a funny accent. So do the Canadians. Maybe everyone should stop generalizing. Maybe we should stop throwing an individual in with their country and look beyond their place of origin, their history, their politics, and see them for who they are. Judge on their own character rather than the character of their country.
Stephanie Buosi
I am american. Interesting, I see myself as an american first and a Jew as my religion and not my race. I will always remember the frustration on Limor’s face when she found out that in our country the color of our skin determine’s our race, not our religion.
American, the people who belong to the lands of America. They have a good system running. America is one of the most important and successful country in the world.Every year millions emigrate to America for better education,better job opportunities an more safety.
Amber Fuwad
I have been an expat since I was 22. This life is strange and makes associate with a nationality in a skewed way. I am American. How many times have I said that over the years? And, because of it, people think of me a certain way. And yet, how many times has someone said to me, “But, you don’t really seem American.” I used to wonder why that was. Then, I went back to the States to live for a year and realized that I am just as much an expat there as I am anywhere else. I don’t fit there, either. I don’t fit anywhere. I am american rather than American. I am patriotic and do not want a different nationality. Yet, I am fundamentally changed and am no longer blindly an American. When we move back to live there permanently, will that change or have I been changed fundamentally?
I am American, although that’s not something that I think means anything anymore. Ha! Remember when it used to? But I was always the kid in the back of the room that didn’t quite say the words to the Pledge of Allegiance out loud, just sort of mumbling them under my breath, if any sound came out at all. I always felt, even from a young age, that compulsory recitation was unfair, especially in terms of requiring me to pledge my allegiance to an unknown god. Whose god, anyway? Mine? Theirs? It never seemed particularly right or fair to require that from children. And so I stopped.
liz
to be an american is to be really fat and eat food and ride around in fancy cars that we paid for with plastic cards. Nothing we have is our own. It can be taken away at any point. Born and raised in america i understand but I was not born here. Ive seen bigger things in life in the world and to be an american is not a great accomplishment.
To be an american is to eat fried food and get really fat. I don’t want to be an american but I am. I don’t like that I am used to what happens in this society but not others. I want to be in Europe and I want to see different things and meet new people. I want to see beautiful things and eat foods that i never knew existed. I want to feel alive and know that there is something bigger out there than being an american. i dont want that to be my label. I don’t want to be known as the american. thats harsh for me to come to terms with
Kali Allen
I am neither Iranian nor American. I am a third culture child. kid. TCK. Sometimes I feel as though this liminal space is powerful, other times I feel as though it’s a struggle of privilege of being able to live in between two spaces and never fully belong anywhere. Is it a privilege to be able to free float or is it a hardship? I’m not sure. I’v ealways wanted my own children to be raised between two worlds so they could experience the in-betweenness and benefit from it, in ways similar to how I have benefitted.
taiah
originally the idea of patriotism; stepford wives with cute little aprons and the best martini makers in town. american husbands with striped shirts and khakis and addiction to golf. now twisted, churned, stuck into a blender and left to rot. power and control pave the way to success, hearts are wicked and lips cannot help but spout lie after lie. who said money couldn’t buy happiness?
It’s all the people who live whole trought America Continent and they have different cultures, religions and ethiacs.
Víctor
It was the All-American Diner, and it was a shithole. Everything, from the decor to the smell to the food, was abysmal. And still people couldn’t stop going. They couldn’t stop buying the runny milkshakes and the burned burgers and the soggy, too salty French fries.
Shana tried to get to the bottom of why the diner was so enticing when it was so bad, and afterward, she wished she hadn’t.
Belinda Roddie
american
美国人
白人
自由
wenyipianzi
There are no dreams only echoes for a time that never was.
“Did you even know the guy?” Ushio’s deep voice finally rumbled.
“Just some American, probably gone already,” Yusei answered without looking away from his glass. He knew he had another opportunity to escape if he wanted to, just throw the water at the officer and run, but he was still curious.
She was wild and she was fierce and she was American. She wanted to be in America. So we wrote love songs to each other on opposing sides of the Atlantic in the hope that they could somehow take us with them.
The definition of patriotism,
both required and expected
a life filled with sacrifice
and twisted beauty
that both enchants me
and terrifies me.
Sage
once true and real… goals of freedom, light, laughter, worth. now circled with faux dreams, too much money, too little time. where did the real morals go? family? happiness? sustainability?
Neala
The burly dude lounged on his front lawn, popping a can of beer as he watched the Fourth of July fireworks explode joyously in the bright blue sky.
Something strange appeared next to the fireworks in the sky and he squinted.
“Whyyyy are there always aliens in these sixty-second stories??” he groaned.
I’m a red hot true blooded American. I read the constitution for breakfast. I eat the constitution for breakfast. Later, I shit out the constitution. Then I eat it again – not for breakfast. It’s gross, but it’s what I do and I’m an American, so deal with it!
paul_tilley
I was born in america and I live in America but I am not proud to be an American. When I was little, I thought I was privileged and lucky to be born in this country. In some aspects, that is true. I am a woman who has rights and I get a good education. But this country and the society I live in is toxic. There is racism and violence. Sexism and homophobia. And plenty more that discriminate to any certain group.
Emily
I am an American woman. I live in my beloved country, America. Others may not love my country but they can go away and leave the rest of us who do love America to live I peace. My father and grandfather fought bravely for my country. It is a great and plwerful nation and will always seem so to me
Lois E
this means a lot to some and a little to others? police brutality and lack of rights. i don’t say the pledge in school anymore. are we advanced.. maybe? but 78 cents don’t make a dollar… land of the free but not the home of the brave.
ee
I didn’t think much about being an American till I went to Europe. When I went to France, England and Germany I suddenly realized that I was different. My culture, history, language, everything was different. It had never occurred to me before.
American food isn’t like British food. There’s more of it. It’s inherently bigger. Bigger plates, vegetables, cuts, tables. There’s more of everything. More flavour. More waste. More indulgence. Depending where you are, more cost – at least, if you want it to be good.
Simon K Jones
America is everywhere, the culture, the tech, the food, the ads, the products. Everybody wants to be American. Not for much longer.
I am american. Not something i am incredibly proud of these days. but knowing that i am not the one causing all of the issues, or mistrusting people because of where they come from, makes it a little easier to be a little proud of where i am from.
Bryan
The American ballet of expectations. Futures we believed in and have been denied. The sitcom smiles and perfect, easy lives where the biggest issue was no rolls for dinner or a dog with muddy feet walking across the carpet. No actual struggles, no tears, no heartache, no empty crying at night because the loneliness hurts and stepping out to seek a cure is more frightening than staying. The nibbles of happiness that end with the click of a phone to plunge you into silence with reality suckling at your brain, nourishing the fears that creep in your mind while the moon slips by with a sneer of indifference. It’s script of make believe. But, I still want to believe it can all be true. Don’t you?
wow – American immediately makes me think of freedom, the people in the world angry at Americans, of the slavery of the past, of struggles in daily life, of prosperity, the poor, challenges, beauty of the land.
American — what does it mean to be American? How can it mean one thing when we hyphenate ourselves — Mexican-American, African-American, etc.?
the american dream is ridiculous. follow YOUR dream. be more. HOW CAN YOU BE MORE? try harder. move out of your comfort zone, believe in yourself, believe in something bigger. be more than an american. be a citizen of the world! CAUSE MORE SOLUTIONS
american people are very privelged people we have more than most people in the world have today we have more food than most people and we have more businesses and jobs for people to full up..
“Me?!” Clara paused. “I suppose I could teach it, but only at a very low level; to kids, maybe. I’m just a big boned, too-tall American. It should be a French woman, really. But it’s not just ballet!. There are hundreds of arts and sports we have lost, or will lose, because we didn’t bring the practitioners with us.” Morris leaned toward her. “There are forty thousand of us here, and we’re not all engineers and scientists. The Committee planned this very well. They wanted to save Humanity, not just humans!”
The fellow passenger seemed dull and boring. So I struck up a conversation asking him where he’s coming from. He replied, Cambodia. Well, that wasn’t the boring-est reply. Then he said, but I’m American. and I thought, well that explains it.
I think of July 4th and parties in the summer red, white, and blue the american flag.
I’m just an American. What do I know about anything? We’re selfish, rude busy bodies. We don’t care about our brothers, the poor or the weak. We are villains with smiling masks on our faces. How sad.
I am glad that I’m not an american. The guns scare me. There is no way back from allowing guns to be used for protection. They have the highest rate of gun deaths in the world.
American’s think they are better and smarter than the rest of the world.
The american was happy because he was free. He roamed the plains, drinking int eh deep, effervescent blue sky, the yellow sand, gritty with brown pebbles. He’d found his horse and called her Freda, for the first wife he’d never married. She died some months ago, and since then he had found himself here more often, in this cactus landscape of no boundaries and few barriers.
He is from american.
I’m is american.
All american are working.
She was American and she liked corn.
Ok friends. circle up. the american says it’s time to make a movie. so pull out your spyglass and get your neighbor in your sights. make it run, make it spool, make it right or don’t make it at all. at attention, intervention. now, cut.
The American is fat, lazy, rude, racist and a pig. The Canadian is fat, lazy, rude, racist and a pig. The American is kind, helpful, and has a funny accent. So do the Canadians. Maybe everyone should stop generalizing. Maybe we should stop throwing an individual in with their country and look beyond their place of origin, their history, their politics, and see them for who they are. Judge on their own character rather than the character of their country.
I am american. Interesting, I see myself as an american first and a Jew as my religion and not my race. I will always remember the frustration on Limor’s face when she found out that in our country the color of our skin determine’s our race, not our religion.
American, the people who belong to the lands of America. They have a good system running. America is one of the most important and successful country in the world.Every year millions emigrate to America for better education,better job opportunities an more safety.
I have been an expat since I was 22. This life is strange and makes associate with a nationality in a skewed way. I am American. How many times have I said that over the years? And, because of it, people think of me a certain way. And yet, how many times has someone said to me, “But, you don’t really seem American.” I used to wonder why that was. Then, I went back to the States to live for a year and realized that I am just as much an expat there as I am anywhere else. I don’t fit there, either. I don’t fit anywhere. I am american rather than American. I am patriotic and do not want a different nationality. Yet, I am fundamentally changed and am no longer blindly an American. When we move back to live there permanently, will that change or have I been changed fundamentally?
I am American, although that’s not something that I think means anything anymore. Ha! Remember when it used to? But I was always the kid in the back of the room that didn’t quite say the words to the Pledge of Allegiance out loud, just sort of mumbling them under my breath, if any sound came out at all. I always felt, even from a young age, that compulsory recitation was unfair, especially in terms of requiring me to pledge my allegiance to an unknown god. Whose god, anyway? Mine? Theirs? It never seemed particularly right or fair to require that from children. And so I stopped.
to be an american is to be really fat and eat food and ride around in fancy cars that we paid for with plastic cards. Nothing we have is our own. It can be taken away at any point. Born and raised in america i understand but I was not born here. Ive seen bigger things in life in the world and to be an american is not a great accomplishment.
To be an american is to eat fried food and get really fat. I don’t want to be an american but I am. I don’t like that I am used to what happens in this society but not others. I want to be in Europe and I want to see different things and meet new people. I want to see beautiful things and eat foods that i never knew existed. I want to feel alive and know that there is something bigger out there than being an american. i dont want that to be my label. I don’t want to be known as the american. thats harsh for me to come to terms with
I am neither Iranian nor American. I am a third culture child. kid. TCK. Sometimes I feel as though this liminal space is powerful, other times I feel as though it’s a struggle of privilege of being able to live in between two spaces and never fully belong anywhere. Is it a privilege to be able to free float or is it a hardship? I’m not sure. I’v ealways wanted my own children to be raised between two worlds so they could experience the in-betweenness and benefit from it, in ways similar to how I have benefitted.
originally the idea of patriotism; stepford wives with cute little aprons and the best martini makers in town. american husbands with striped shirts and khakis and addiction to golf. now twisted, churned, stuck into a blender and left to rot. power and control pave the way to success, hearts are wicked and lips cannot help but spout lie after lie. who said money couldn’t buy happiness?
It’s all the people who live whole trought America Continent and they have different cultures, religions and ethiacs.
It was the All-American Diner, and it was a shithole. Everything, from the decor to the smell to the food, was abysmal. And still people couldn’t stop going. They couldn’t stop buying the runny milkshakes and the burned burgers and the soggy, too salty French fries.
Shana tried to get to the bottom of why the diner was so enticing when it was so bad, and afterward, she wished she hadn’t.
american
美国人
白人
自由
There are no dreams only echoes for a time that never was.
“Did you even know the guy?” Ushio’s deep voice finally rumbled.
“Just some American, probably gone already,” Yusei answered without looking away from his glass. He knew he had another opportunity to escape if he wanted to, just throw the water at the officer and run, but he was still curious.
Ushio took in a slow, deep breath. “Why?”
She was wild and she was fierce and she was American. She wanted to be in America. So we wrote love songs to each other on opposing sides of the Atlantic in the hope that they could somehow take us with them.
The definition of patriotism,
both required and expected
a life filled with sacrifice
and twisted beauty
that both enchants me
and terrifies me.
once true and real… goals of freedom, light, laughter, worth. now circled with faux dreams, too much money, too little time. where did the real morals go? family? happiness? sustainability?
The burly dude lounged on his front lawn, popping a can of beer as he watched the Fourth of July fireworks explode joyously in the bright blue sky.
Something strange appeared next to the fireworks in the sky and he squinted.
“Whyyyy are there always aliens in these sixty-second stories??” he groaned.
I’m a red hot true blooded American. I read the constitution for breakfast. I eat the constitution for breakfast. Later, I shit out the constitution. Then I eat it again – not for breakfast. It’s gross, but it’s what I do and I’m an American, so deal with it!
I was born in america and I live in America but I am not proud to be an American. When I was little, I thought I was privileged and lucky to be born in this country. In some aspects, that is true. I am a woman who has rights and I get a good education. But this country and the society I live in is toxic. There is racism and violence. Sexism and homophobia. And plenty more that discriminate to any certain group.
I am an American woman. I live in my beloved country, America. Others may not love my country but they can go away and leave the rest of us who do love America to live I peace. My father and grandfather fought bravely for my country. It is a great and plwerful nation and will always seem so to me
this means a lot to some and a little to others? police brutality and lack of rights. i don’t say the pledge in school anymore. are we advanced.. maybe? but 78 cents don’t make a dollar… land of the free but not the home of the brave.
I didn’t think much about being an American till I went to Europe. When I went to France, England and Germany I suddenly realized that I was different. My culture, history, language, everything was different. It had never occurred to me before.
American food isn’t like British food. There’s more of it. It’s inherently bigger. Bigger plates, vegetables, cuts, tables. There’s more of everything. More flavour. More waste. More indulgence. Depending where you are, more cost – at least, if you want it to be good.
America is everywhere, the culture, the tech, the food, the ads, the products. Everybody wants to be American. Not for much longer.
I am american. Not something i am incredibly proud of these days. but knowing that i am not the one causing all of the issues, or mistrusting people because of where they come from, makes it a little easier to be a little proud of where i am from.
The American ballet of expectations. Futures we believed in and have been denied. The sitcom smiles and perfect, easy lives where the biggest issue was no rolls for dinner or a dog with muddy feet walking across the carpet. No actual struggles, no tears, no heartache, no empty crying at night because the loneliness hurts and stepping out to seek a cure is more frightening than staying. The nibbles of happiness that end with the click of a phone to plunge you into silence with reality suckling at your brain, nourishing the fears that creep in your mind while the moon slips by with a sneer of indifference. It’s script of make believe. But, I still want to believe it can all be true. Don’t you?