I’ve been thinking a lot lately about national identity. Actually, I started reading Samuel P. Huntington’s Who Are We? America’s Great Debate, and it got me thinking. What is it that gives some nations a stronger sense of national identity than others? Why are Americans so much more passionate about the Stars and Stripes than Brits tend to be about the Union Jack? Why does it take an event like 9/11 to spark patriotism in many people?

Fascinating questions, and I don’t know if I can offer definitive answers; nobody can. But I have some thoughts...

One of the most striking differences that I have encountered between America and Britain is the emphasis placed by the general public upon national identity. Despite our past empire and our long history, there seems to be something about the British mindset that takes nationality for granted. That is, unless opposed by a conflicting viewpoint: a criticism from the French, say, on our cooking or our language. Then we puff up our proud British chests in defiance. And, of course, we mustn’t forget the Last Night of the Proms, when all British pomp and circumstance is displayed in all its Union Jacketed glory.

Now, I don’t think that it is necessarily the case that the British are not proud of their Britishness. I think it’s just that our culture tends not to confront us with our Britishness as often as Americans are reminded of their Americanness. Take the phrase “All-American”, for instance, variously used to refer to anything from ball games to consumables to people. We don’t really have an “All-British.” The “Best of British” is usually limited to discussions of food. Now, we do get patriotic over our food. “British Beef”, for instance, is (rather ironically) a stamp of quality in supermarkets. The crispest English accents are used to advertise bangers and mash, crumpets, scones, and Jersey cream by Marks & Spencer. We (some of us...!) love our food. But is that true patriotism?

On the other hand, Americans tend to be very aware of their national identity. Flags are, of course, a very tangible example. What is it that these two flags mean to us? The Union Jack represents the unity of the Kingdom and dates back to January 1801, after the 1800 Act of Union, which merged the Kingdom of Ireland with the Kingdom of Great Britain. In its very essence, the flag represents the joining together of the countries that make up the Union. Perhaps the tensions that have arisen over the years between these countries -- arising as they do from a desire to be distinguished as a separate entity, to be Scottish, English, Welsh, or Irish rather than British – can partly answer for the lack of awe with which the British view their flag. Certainly, when the World Cup rolls around, each country displays its own flag much more proudly than they wave the Union Jack. But then this sentiment is much more about football than nationality.

But I think there’s more to the transatlantic difference in our attitude to our flags than the fact that the Union Jack represents more than one country. After all, the Stars and Stripes, by its very nature, represents more than one State. In a sense, just as the Union Jack merges the flags of the separate nations of the Union, the American flag allows one star to each state that makes up its Union. For Americans, the flag represents a much more recent history; it is a much more definable symbol. It is inseparably intertwined with other prominent symbols of what Huntington in his book terms “The American Creed”: the Declaration of Independence, the Constitution, the Bill of Rights, each of which tangibly represents the values of democracy, freedom, equality, liberty, words that are used as catchphrases nowadays but which still have a much more concrete meaning to millions of Americans than they tend to do to Europeans. In schools, American students salute their flag, pledging allegiance not to a piece of cloth but to a set of values which they are taught from a historical and cultural perspective. Some say this is indoctrination. I think it is a way the American education system attempts to link the symbols, catchphrases, and emblems that surround students with the very real history they represent. In this way the flag comes to embody lessons learned, wars fought, and the overcoming of mistakes like slavery that halted the progress of democracy in the New World. The same sense of possibility, of freedom and adventure, that inspired the Founding Fathers of the United States to create what they defined as a “more perfect union” still lives on, albeit in an extremely diluted fashion, in the way in which Americans identify themselves as Americans. In the way that, no matter which State they are from, and no matter the rivalries that exist between States or between North and South, Americans will stand side by side proudly to declare, hand on heart, their allegiance to an ideal that forms their identity.

At a party last week an American asked me why I had any desire to live in the US. He asked me to give reasons. Then on Sunday I spoke to Chris on the phone and he asked me the same thing. Perhaps it is in part this sense of national identity – of unity based upon an ideal, a value, a history. There is more to it than this, but I know it is a part of what I love about America. Patriotism is intoxicating.

Of course, that isn’t always a good thing. Patriotism can be blind. But for the most part I tend to believe that Americans can be extremely critical of their government and their social systems without altering the importance they place on being American. This does have its exceptions. In France I was with a number of Americans who declared themselves Canadians to any French people they thought disagreed with the War in Iraq. I was almost ashamed of them. I think it’s so incredibly important to separate politics from nationality. It is the notion that the two are inseparable that leads to innocent Americans being targeted just because they are American.

Finally, one more thought. It has always struck me as ironic that an event like September 11, designed to cause so much damage and disarray to a nation (and in loss of life it certainly did), would end up in many ways having the opposite effect. For those Americans on September 10, 2001 who considered their nationality of lesser importance to their identity, the events that were to follow the next day made their Americanness paramount. Even international critics of America waved the Stars and Stripes that week, partly in pity, partly in an expression of unity. Look, they said, we support the same values. The tragic irony, of course, is that 9/11 pushed American patriotism, American love-for-country, into high gear.

But another element of that irony is that it would take something so tragic to ignite that patriotism in some people. Now that five years have past and the War in Iraq is still drawing on, is that patriotism waning? Huntington suggests that identity is an “us-versus-them” phenomenon. A female doctor in a room full of male doctors will identify herself as a woman. The same female doctor in a room full of non-medical women will identify herself as a doctor. We define ourselves in opposition to others. National identity becomes strongest in comparison to other, differing identities. When we go abroad we tend to identify more strongly with our own country in comparison to others (erm... I may be an exception here...!). So the Brits defend their cooking in the face of French criticism, even if they prefer French cuisine themselves. Patriotism during wars is often stronger than it has ever been; that is, if we have an enemy against whom we compare ourselves and find strongly in our favour. Take the World Wars. Take 9/11. But when we start to question the actions of our own country, or those who represent our own country – as in Vietnam and as in the War in Iraq – we are less able to find a locus for that identity.

Okay, I rambled tonight. Big time!

So, in a moment of pure boredom, I took the Politics Test. Someone on MySpace had posted their results, so I took the test, and here’s what happened:

You are a
Social Moderate (55% permissive)
and an...
Economic Liberal (20% permissive)
You are best described as a:
Democrat
Link: The Politics Test

Okay, then.

Today is a strange day. The house smells of cleaning, the way a room smells after the carpet is vacuumed. The light coming through the row of windows in the living room makes my eyes ache. I went on the treadmill again this morning for 20 minutes, followed by a session on the rowing machine. I should be feeling fit and healthy, but really I'm just starving and lathargic. And I'm a social moderate and an economic liberal. Probably shouldn't put too much faith in these online tests, but at least I'm not a totalitarian or an anarchist, eh?

I’m alive! This may come as a shock to many of you. Especially to Brian, who awoke me from my blogging slumber this week with a comment that landed in my inbox with a giant thud, as if to say, “Wake up!” Despite my assurances that I would write more regularly when my dissertation was finally bound and submitted, I have been hopelessly lacklustre.

What has happened since I last graced this page with my presence? Well, Lori went back to Mississippi, and I moved out of my apartment in Exeter and back in with my parents in Hampshire. Gulp. It’s never a very promising step, moving-back-in-with-parents. I have wonderful parents, but one’s life never seems to be moving in a forward and promising direction as you arrange your three bookcases-worth of books on the one old Ikea bookshelf that is filled with Winnie-the-Pooh and Narnia books you remember from childhood. (Not, of course, that there is anything wrong with Winnie-the-Pooh or The Chronicles of Narnia. I stand firmly by their brilliance.) I even found The Very Hungry Caterpillar, and when I opened its tiny scuffed cover a piece of paper fell out. Written in almost illegible script were the dates of my DTP and Measles shots almost 20 years ago. I suppose it seemed a natural place to keep important records. I slotted then back inside, somewhere near the part where the hungry caterpillar starts to feel a little too full.

So my life fit snugly inside a white Mercedes van, and then again in the cleared-out garage beside Dad’s 1961 Mini Cooper (and assorted boxes full of mini parts gleaned from ebay, awaiting the grand refurbishment). I gave my old room a huge cleanout, filling five black trash bags with garbage and three white trash bags with miscellaneous items destined for Oxfam or the British Heart Foundation.

I was brutal, throwing away school books and notes, working my way down to just one box full of special things I couldn’t bear to part with. There were times I had to ground myself in a reality that was far removed from sentimentality. I had to question myself again and again: Am I ever really going to need the folder that got me through my Science GSCEs? Or the psychology notes I memorized while pacing the back garden, regurgitating in a hot exam hall for an A-Level? All but three boxes of books are double-stacked on my one shelf, and I have a pile of videos and DVDs that reach almost to the doorframe stacked on the floor beside my wardrobe. The wardrobe was, of course, the most drastic clean-out job. As attached as I may have been to the black sweater I got for my fifteenth birthday, the huge hole under the arm never was going to get fixed; even if it had, I wouldn’t have worn it. I was brutal. And I still can’t fit everything in my room.

My project upon returning home was Destination Elsewhere. I needed a project. Leaving Exeter was heart-wrenching, especially with the giant void produced by not knowing what happens next. So Lori and I set ourselves a task, and I was determined to complete it before I submitted my application for an internship with Southern Progress Corporation this week. Success. (http://www.destinationelsewhere.com/). We have a sleek, professional, redesigned magazine (at least I like to boastfully think so). It was fun, up to a point. I become rather obsessed with projects like this, spending hours sitting in one position, painstakingly cutting out images from backgrounds and creating logos or banners. There are probably a whole host of broken links in the midst of all that brilliance, but I have taken a break and am hopeful that my family and friends will alert me of any mistakes. I still haven’t quite figured out the blog (yes, Destination Elsewhere now has a blog). I’ve never used CSS scripting before, so creating the blog was a huge challenge (lots of trial and error and not a little bit of muttering under my breath and glaring angrily at the screen). I still can’t get the banner at the top to line up correctly. Any advice from a CSS expert would be most appreciated.

Nevertheless, I am rather pleased with myself. Having never read a book or taken a class on web design, everything has been a discovery. It’s a fascinating process, and something I have learnt so much more about over the last couple of years. Creating a web site can be all-consuming: there is that elusive perfect look you are just desperate to achieve, and yet the mental picture is always slightly removed from the pixels on the screen. But every now and then, sometimes when you least expect it, something will work, and there is a moment of shear giddy glee at having figured it out, at creating something on this vast flat landscape that looks good.

And yes, I have applied for an internship. Southern Progress Corporation, a division of Time Inc., is a publishing house based in Birmingham, Alabama, featuring both book and magazine publishing divisions. They are well known for their magazines, including Southern Living, Health, Sunset, Cooking Light, Coastal Living, and Southern Accents. The company offers an internship program in a variety of capacities, although my interest is editorial. I wish I sounded more confident about my interest. I really would like to get this, but part of me has no clue what I really want. I bought a book today called What Should I Do With My Life? I suppose the title hit home a little too hard for me to pass up.

My parents suggested that I apply to Yale. It sounds like a ridiculous idea to me, but then part of me says, Why not? The GRE may kill me, and I’m really not keen on the idea of taking it, but I could give it a shot. I’d have to apply in January for admission to a PhD programme next Fall. That gives me time to keep thinking. Is that what I really want to do, though? Should I commit myself to another five years – at least – of intense study, only to live my life through the pages and words of dead writers? It sounds cynical, I know, but I tend to behave quite cynically when looking forward like this. The world is seeming so vast and untameable right now. Dad asked me what I really want to do. A little voice in my head was screaming, “Write, Write.” A deeper voice told me to be sensible.

Reading an excerpt of What Should I Do With My Life?, I began to feel a little comforted. Most people go through this dilemma. And then I read on. Most stories seem to go like this: “I graduated from college. I went straight into this boring job or that dead-end job. I hated it. I worked there for three years. I got a promotion. I still hated it. I worked there for another three years. Then I decided to do what I really wanted to do.”

And there lies the problem. I don’t want to have to go through those six years. Despite the hardships and the hideousness these people experience in their six years of dullness and lifelessness, they do walk away with experience. They have something to work with. I have an MA in English. I can write a kick-butt essay. I can deconstruct a novel. Yay for me.

So you see why I haven’t been blogging? I’m on a bit of a downer right now. Every now and then I try to perk up a bit. I think how lucky I am to have this time with my family, and how extraordinarily blessed I am not to have a huge pile of student debt. I remind myself that this is a perfect time to be job hunting while working on Destination Elsewhere, really getting it up to scratch. I think I could even be writing, submitting articles to various places, making use of my time. I have a couple of possibilities lined up for web design work, my mother for starters. I have this time to think, to plan, to muse over the future. In a month I will receive my MA result and hopefully hear back from Southern Progress. In the meantime I should stay positive. I should apply for as many jobs in the States as I can find. I should look into journalism as well as publishing; it could be more creative, more up my alley. I could explore my options.

So I shall attempt to stay positive and to find things to blog about that don’t sound quite so full of whining and whingyness. I will try, at least.