“Love Club: Independence Day”

On Monday the 4th of July I had the pleasure of performing a short spoken word piece at the Arches for an event called Love Club. This evening of performance events was curated by Drew Taylor and hosted by his American alter ego. It was a treat to share the stage with a diverse range of performers and for an unfamiliar audience. All the new faces in the crowd made the event very exciting and I am so pleased to have taken part. I am very much looking forward to the next one. Other performers included the Arches Choir, Kate E. Deeming, Julie Doogan, RSAMD graduates in a scene originally staged the the NTS Five Minute Theatre, and of course Drew Taylor himself.

For my part I spoke a little bit about being American in Glasgow. I used the show and tell format so familiar to us all from gradeschool to explore the ins and outs of my passport – allowing me to reflect on how the city and this country have surprised me, disappointed me, and inspired new feelings about my own nationality as I’ve accumulated the visas in the passport. Drawing from the antics of Stewart Lee’s standup I presented a similar script twice with a serious variation in the second because of a fictitious event – this time an email from my “mother” telling me to be nice.  The second version of my show and tell of my visas and passport:

Hello. My name is Amanda. I am twenty-nine and a half years old and I live on Victoria Road in Glasgow Scotland. For show and tell I have brought something you may have seen before in an airport or some places like that. You may even have one of your own? But even if you did it’s not like this one. For show and tell I have brought my American passport. Here it is.

This passport is a new one because I lost my first one when I got home from France in 2008 before I even moved to Glasgow. I am glad I did though because the new picture is much better. Here it is. This was taken at Walgreens and cost $4.39. I think I look nice and my hair is very long.

I am an American and this proves it. I’ve signed on this line. It says right here at the front:

She is an American. And a Minnesotan. And a Bemidjian. She’s a Monfrooe. But since moving here things have become more complicated. Next year I am getting married. So I’m a Monfrooe but something else too. I haven’t lived in Bemidji, my hometown, in more than a decade and it is unrecognizable to me now. I grew up there but I don’t belong there anymore. I am not Minnesotan because if I had the choice of where I’d live if I went back to the States Minnesota would be my third choice behind northern California, Chicago, and Wisconsin. Minnesota does not beckon so how Minnesotan can I be. But I am American. I don’t know if I belong there, or recognize it, or if I’m that and something else too. But I am American. It’s says so on this visa.

She’s the kind of optimistic, enthusiastic American who follows her heart by moving to Scotland to be with her lover. She is the kind of American who doesn’t know Britain isn’t Europe. She talks louder than I do, she has a different inflection, she knows all the bus routes in Chicago, and she doesn’t know the meaning of “Jakey,” “Wee Free,” or “the boke.” She hasn’t seen this many people fight in public before moving here. She thought Chicago would have prepared her to live in a racist culture. She has a hunch that British people are more reserved but has no idea how passive aggressive. She has no idea how various and certain are the cultural divides within Britain. She doesn’t feel like she’ll feel like a foreigner.

She knows all this. She’s grumpy. You can see. She doesn’t want to move to the States but she’s tired of being foreign, she’s tired of telling people where she’s from and then explaining where that is relative to Florida. She’s grumpy because she sees how ridiculous American politicians are and how they thrive on a culture that doesn’t care as long as the circus is exciting. Americans love exciting. She’s not very excited. That’s because she doesn’t really have anything to believe in or to fight for. Not every American is plagued with  patriotism, though she feels more American since moving to Scotland than she ever has. But this doesn’t mean she’s any less certain of its problems and possibilities. Only more so. She could critique America better than you ever could. But she could also tell you why it’s wonderful too. Maybe she’s grumpy because she’s uncertain.

In America there’s one sure fire way to inspire patriotism.

Amanda steps back from the microphone and, as if it were a lullaby, sings  to her final picture in the Passport. She falters. The song ends.

I hope you have enjoyed learning about my American passport and some new things about being American in this country.

Here are some images from that evening including my own performance.

This slideshow requires JavaScript.