Sociology in the Wild: America

Reflections on the 4th from abroad + revisiting a playlist

Previous celebrations from afar

Welcome to a special Sunday edition of the Sociology of… Everything. It’s a holiday week for many subscribers, so I wanted to send something you can reflect on and listen to away from work.

For those of you who have been reading my writing since before I launched this Substack, you know that I’ve been living internationally and reflecting on being an American (and especially an American abroad) for several years. The 4th of July holiday always feels like an occasion to consider what that means.

It’s been an eventful week (year?) for the U.S. on the world stage. You need neither a recap nor an opinion from me on the latest current events. It’s a lot, it’s complicated, and it’s constantly evolving.

So let me instead speak to the more enduring human part.

There is America — its actions, its administrations, its legacy, its global perception based on the media we export — and then there are Americans, the 340 million of us who comprise the country. There are a lot of assumptions made about both. Many Americans would not believe how many times I’ve had to convince well-educated foreigners who have not spent time in the U.S. that, no, we do not all live like the Kardashians. (You think I’m joking. I am not.) I regularly explain that we’re not all rich (quite the opposite), we don’t all carry guns, we don’t agree on a lot of things — but we agree on more than the media would lead you to believe, and yes, even someone who looks like me and has my name can be American. To be honest, I’m not sure they believe me (especially the Kardashian part). But I try.

Loyal readers will note that I’m not a perpetually optimistic person on every topic. I try to be realistic, and when it comes to things like technology, I often think we’re doomed (yes, that is my professional sociological assessment). But on the subtler, more human stuff, I do occasionally reserve hope. And so while I am regularly asked to communicate and explain many things to foreigners on behalf of America, I find it equally important to use the distance and perspective I have to speak to my fellow citizens.

Here’s one big takeaway: As a people, we are generally well-liked. This may surprise you. One of the main reasons for this is that we are seen as more open than the vast majority of the rest of the world. I agree with that assessment. We like to talk, we’re curious, we’re generally very friendly. So even though we’re wildly diverse, frustratingly contradictory, and often a bit ridiculous, this is one quality that the world recognizes and admires in us.

I took our openness for granted before living abroad for an extended period of time. I assumed that while it may look and sound a bit different, many other cultures would match us in this way. How could they not? I was very wrong. (I think comparable openness is a particularly incorrect assumption about Europe, a topic for some other day.) This openness isn’t just a social asset; it also allows us to dominate in innovation and creativity. Acknowledging this attribute does not excuse any of the things that we could rightfully criticize about ourselves and our country, but it’s an exceptional quality and one we lose sight of while focusing on how different we think we are from everyone around us.

It’s also worth noting that you don’t have to be in the country for generations to adopt this mindset. We attract people who possess this openness and being immersed in our culture gives people permission to operate in a way that was often not accepted or celebrated wherever they came from.

Does that mean there aren’t people who defy this? Sure. But it’s a spectrum, and I can tell you that, as a whole, this is one of our defining, most revered qualities.

Openness is just one of many reasons so many people still long to come to the U.S., either to live or to visit. Nearly ever Uber driver I encountered in South Africa said the same thing to me: “Take me to America.” And even in affluent parts of Western Europe, the American mystique is strong, especially amongst younger generations, who regularly tell me they fantasize about taking an American roadtrip. (Top of their list? Montana. Thank you, Yellowstone. “I am Kayce Dutton,” one decidedly un-cowboy-like French man told me.) Everything from our pop culture to the national parks to the promise of economic opportunity still whispers to huge swaths of the global population. Let us not forget that.

Regardless of how complicated your feelings are around the U.S. and what it means to be an American, I hope you will take a moment to appreciate the extraordinary run of the last 250 years and feel a sense of gratitude for how fortunate we are to have this citizenship. And if you are not American, I hope you’ll listen beyond the noise and take a moment to reflect — and possibly even celebrate — with us.

Bonus: I’ve removed the paywall from my post from the last 4th of July, so you can access the 14-hour playlist I created to accompany your BBQ or any other festivities.

Enjoy, and let the words of Walt Whitman direct you this week and beyond:

Come, I will make the continent indissoluble;

I will plant companionship thick as trees along all the rivers of
America, and along the shores of the great lakes, and all over
the prairies;
I will make inseparable cities, with their arms about each other's
necks;
By the love of comrades

Happy 4th.