Seeing as this is suppose to be a blog about Identity, I figured I’d write something about my identity.

You don’t really know just how American you are – until you leave the US. It’s been pretty interesting to be in Israel and intentionally process through just how American I am.

I have enjoyed learning about their culture and I’m realizing that I am really interested in learning more about it – especially since I get the chance to teach the Bible. I value different things. I feel compassion to different things. My sense of fairness and “right”ness is very much American.

On this trip, I have been called out and I’ve been the one that gets stopped. When we were leaving our layover in Turkey on our way to Israel, I got called out from my seat. Someone had confirmed that 24A was my seat. They then came back and asked me to deboard the plane – kinda intimidating. I hadn’t done anything wrong. I had to walk down the stairs – there wasn’t a little jetway to the terminal. My luggage was in the middle of the tarmac. I was surrounded by airline representatives and few cops. They needed me to open my bag.

It ended up being nothing.

When I got to Israel, off the jet way on the way to customs – all the guys that I’m with walk right pass the security. I get stopped and hassled a bit.

What does this have to do with being American – well, all I could think was – why are they hassling me? I’m American. Oh, and I kept my thought to myself – but it really surprised me to think of some of these things. I really am so American. It’s much easier to see when I’m somewhere else.