God Bless America.

As we cruise toward 2006's celebration of the 4th July I find myself pondering again my accidental love affair with America. As an Australian I never thought I'd find myself so enamoured with a country which was too frequently associated with excess and cheap television and the baseball caps on backwards which my Mum objected (and still objects) to so strenuously. American Cultural Imperialism was among the worst sins in my house.

My arrival in this country was brought about due to my own inadequacies in my study of, of all things, French language. I aspired to study in Poitiers. But when the time came suffice to say my grammar simply sucked. I knew I couldn't cut it studying in French in France. Any study abroad was better than no study abroad and so the next best option (and honestly not one I'd ever actually aspired to) was to follow my second major, Politics, to the College of William and Mary in Williamsburg, VA for an exchange semester in the Fall of 1998.

What do you know? You Americans aren't all a bunch of ignorant, cultural imperialists. Not only that but the group of extraordinary people I met in VA changed the way I look at Americans and Australians. Upon my return to Australia, changed and full of my wonderful love of all things starred and spangled my Australian friends (and some of my family) really thought I'd taken leave of my senses. How could I possibly bear any sort of affection for a country which has perpetuated so much injustice in the world*? Not only that but American's make such godawful beer, how could you love that?? I wasn't really sure how to answer, only that my gut told me that somehow I needed to find my way back. That eventually happened in 2000.

In September of 2001 I was working in Student Affairs for a company sending US college students abroad. Our building stood on the corner of LaSalle and Washington in downtown Chicago. Across the road from City Hall and about two blocks from the Chicago Board of Trade and only a few more blocks from the Mammoth Sears Tower. I was on the El train when the first plane hit the World Trade Center, and word filtered in of the second as I switched on my computer for the day. By 10am we were asked to evacuate our building and we all stepped out into the brisk fall day to the bizarre sight of stock traders in their fancy suits walking crying down the footpath. We stood five deep in front of a TV in a storefront and watched as the first tower crumpled and fell. The train ride home was cramped and eerily silent. For two days I watched the television until it was just too sad. At some point I was moved to write an e-mail to my friends and family back in Australia in which I attempted to describe for them the pain I sensed from the people around me. I may not have done it justice. I received a reply back which stunningly read words to the effect of "They deserved it." I realized then how badly the American people were misunderstood by my countrymen and women. That afternoon I hung my 6x4ft American flag outside my apartment to wave with all the others on my street where it remained until the day I left Chicago. For the first time on that day I felt more American than I did Australian. It was less than 12 months after I arrived.

And so in my 6th year here in the States I find myself officially a legal alien. I hold a Green Card which incidentally cost thousands of dollars (fees, attorney's fees, airfairs etc. etc.) and no small quantity of stress and heartache. Legal immigrants work HARD for the right to live here... but that subject is for another post. In 2007 (to my mother's chagrin) I will petition to become an American Citizen. Then I will be able to vote... most probably for a Democrat or 10. I came to America because it offered me opportunities I felt were missing in Australia. America has given me opportunities in spades. She's also given me a Husband who I love dearly and two little Americans of my very own and many, many friends.

Tomorrow I will walk with my eldest son's preschool in his first 4th of July parade, and in the evening I'll watch the fireworks with friends and probably need to cover my Toddler's ears. America is my home and it's a great, great place.

And as an Aussie to 16million others: Australia needs to get over it's fancy with beating up on America. This bloke has it right.

*This is what we're raised on, you see?