God, Fear, and Booze: The American Dream?

Several years ago, when we moved back to Antwerp from Austin, Texas, I was a visiting Fulbright Professor at the Universiteit Antwerpen. How I ended up there is a story in itself, having been a foreign exchange student nearly twenty years prior, with the same professors who were now my colleagues, during which I began my lifelong (from that point at least) love affair with languages and James Joyce. But, that, as the talking tree, the Sprookjesboom says, “dat, lieve kinderen, is een héél ander verhaal...”

One of the courses that I taught was called, “God, Fear, and Booze: The American Dream?” I had been asked to teach a course on American Drama, something I had never done before, so I put on the old thinking cap, and I thunk, and I thunk, and I thunk.

What defines America?

The time period was in and around the two World Wars, and I had chosen Eugene O’Neill’s The Iceman Cometh, Thornton Wilder’s Our Town, Tennessee Williams’ A Streetcar Named Desire and Arthur Miller’s The Crucible.

And, like casting the runes or spreading the Tarot Cards, the answer emerged: God, Fear, and Booze. And, of course, the American Dream, or was it?

Living and traveling abroad I am constantly confronted with stereotypes, both ones about Americans and ones that I have as an American about others, say, for example, Italians, Belgians, and Indians, just to name a few. Stereotypes raise the hackles of many immediately, but, in a sense, they can be useful. An incorrect stereotype is just as helpful in learning about a culture as a correct one, just as a negative experience can teach us as much as a positive one.

So, that was the course. The first day, not wanting to be shy, we dove right in and I asked the students, who were all Belgian, what stereotypes do you have about America and Americans?

Some of the answers which filled the chalkboard:

Obsessed with Religion

Christians

Drink too much when they come to Europe

War (there was another President in the White House at the time)

Xenophobia

Ignorance of geography

Hollywood endings

Problems with Racism

Freedom

Skyscrapers

The American West

Cowboys and Indians

In short, God, Fear, and Booze: The American Dream? I was not too much off the mark. Americans drink a lot of alcohol, both at home and abroad. Americans are quite preoccupied with Religion, specifically Christianity, and we Fear the Unknown as much as anyone, yet, behind it all, there is the promise of the American Dream. I can do anything that I put my mind to.

When people meet me, they will often say, “You’re not a typical American, are you?” To which I usually answer, “Yes and No.”

Personally, I have had my battle with booze, though have come out victorious . Questions of religion and spirituality are on my mind constantly, but not necessarily Christianity. I have had to conquer many fears in life, and have had to overcome prejudices and stereotypes of the Other, and I have learned about three different cultures on a deeper level than even some of the people born and raised in those cultures. I have believed in the American Dream and I have lived it, and I have seen it falter at times.

Much has happened in my life since I taught that course. I have lost much, and perhaps, in some ways, I have gained more. I have wrestled with the demons of my mind, of being American , of being a foreigner, of being a Man, of being a Human, of just Be-ing.

And, now, here I am, back in Antwerp having spent a phenomenal 10 weeks in India , which suddenly, like the thick mist of today’s autumn shroud, floats ghostly before my eyes, flickering. shifting, changing, fading, and eliding my thoughts, taking me back to that first day in the classroom, asking the question, “so, what comes to mind when you think of America?” Because, suddenly, again I am here, back in Antwerp, as an American, coming equipped with a bit more experience in life than when I left it in August.

For logistical reasons, Antwerp, or at least Belgium is my home for the indefinite, foreseeable future. I am a foreigner, and I am an American, living abroad. But, I have returned to Antwerp with perhaps a new pair of glasses, or better, a lack thereof. It is a new city for me. Though it has been part of my history, suddenly it opens before me, new, to be dis-covered, to be experienced from a new perspective.

I am American. I am a typical American, both in my typical and atypical ways. It is who I am, and it is who I will be when I die. For, to be paradox of a stereotype is about as American as it can get, and so, here I am.